Thank you to those to who read, enjoyed, and left a review/favorite/follow! A very special thanks to Arison Nakaru, who kindly bugged me to hasten with this next chapter.
Ith How the World Crumbles
Chapter 2: Friends, Family & a Fight
"Tell me about the golden wolf again!" commanded the blonde six-year old as she perched at the top of the gate to the cucco pen. She took bites out of a cookie held in mittened hand and let the crumbs fall to the birds below her.
"Again?" her companion repeated, having nearly inhaled his snack already.
He was leaning over the fence near his friend; he stared at the animals, wondering what it would be like to be a cucco for a little while, pecking at the ground for bugs and seeds, fighting with the others and being shut up at night from predatory animals.
"Of course I want to hear it again!" Ilia exclaimed. "It's so exciting and it's real! It really happened to you!" She clasped her hands and sighed. "I wish I could see the golden wolf… Do you think I could see him, Link?"
He raised his eyes and turned his mind away from his imaginings. "You might. Granny said that he wasn't an ordinary wolf. He wouldn't show himself to many people and it would have to be for a good reason if he did." The boy was quick to realize how that might be interpreted by his friend and already her eyes were narrowly fixed upon him. "B-But he would only appear for people with kind hearts… and… and of courthe you'd be able to thee him!"
That seemed to assuage the girl, and her baleful look softened and she resorted to questions, the answers to which she had nearly memorized. "What did he look like? Was he ferocious? What about his one eye? What did he say when you looked at him? C'mon, Link, tell me again!"
He understood her partiality for repeatedly hearing the story, as he was sure he would have reciprocated her desire had he been in her shoes, but somehow he found it much nicer to ponder it quietly to himself rather than recounting the tale so many times to everyone, especially Ilia. He pulled himself up a bit higher on the fence, straddled the top board, and let his somber eyes rest on the excited green ones of his friend.
The younger of the two children leaned forward. "Are you going to tell me?" she demanded, all the while licking the last of the crumbs from about her lips.
"Okay," the boy acquiesced at last. "Which part do you want to hear?"
"All of it. Start with when he appeared and don't leave anything out! I'll know if you do."
The boy wiggled and tried to find a more comfortable position, which was nigh unto impossible as a result of his position. "Well, you know that the wolf saved me from that nasty purple monster. At first he just stood and looked at me with his red eye."
"Don't forget about the one that was closed!"
"Yeah. His right eye was closed and there was a jaggly line through it like he'd been hurt there."
"He must be a brave wolf," said Ilia dreamily. "I bet he was saving someone when he got that."
Link nodded, for a similar thing had occurred to him as well.
"Now, tell me exactly what he looked like," she commanded, rather imperiously for the daughter of the mayor of such a humble village.
"He shone all over like the sun, except he wasn't so bright. He was more like the moon, but he was mostly gold. He had white hair over his chest that looked kinda like Uncle Kern's beard, some white hair between his ears, and a white stripe on each side."
"His paws were white, too. Don't forget that!"
"That's what I was about to say. His paws and the tip of his tail were white and shining like the moon."
"Hey, you didn't tell me about his tail! Why didn't you tell me about his tail before?" the girl cried, glaring at him and somehow looking very cute as she sat on the gate with both hands on hips.
"I guess I forgot about it. It's just a small thing, Ilie. Don't get so upset."
"But I want to hear everything! You can't forget anything else, okay?"
Link nodded and threw one leg over the crest of the fence so that he was facing away from the cuccos, opposite of her position. "Okay, okay. So do you want me to tell the rest?"
"Tell me about what he said to you and how he licked you."
The children went on like that for a while, until every last morsel of detail was extracted from that most fascinating of stories. After the boy told her yet again how silently the golden beast had simply vanished from a dark forest where his glow was impossible to miss, Ilia slid down from the fence, landing on the frosty ground with both cozily booted feet. She raised her slightly snubbed little nose and eyes brimming with fun, all the while trying to keep a mischievous grin from betraying her thoughts before she could put them into words.
"I'm bored," she declared. "I'm tired of waiting. Let's do something, Link. Oh, I know!"
"What?" He, too, hopped off the boards and faced his friend.
She lowered her voice to a conspirational whisper. "Let's go try to find the golden wolf in the woods again. I really, really want to see him!"
"But…but we're not supposed to go in the woods by ourselves. Uncle Bo told us to go out and play. Everyone'll be mad if we leave…"
"No one will know," she insisted, tugging at his hand. "We'll just go in, see the wolf and come right back. C'mon, Link, don't be spoilsport! I want to see him!"
"I don't think it'll be so easy…" mumbled the boy.
The girl had a hint of tears in her eyes and her voice was softly imploring. "But I really, really want to... Please, Link? Come with me?"
He sensed some desperation in her voice and realized that she had a double purpose in her desire. Not only did she fervently wish to see the almost mythical beast with her own eyes, she also wanted to put more distance between them and the two simple huts from which came somewhat muffled cries.
"Well… Okay. I guess we could look for him a little…but we'd better not stay long."
Ilia's mischievous smile returned and she again drew at the boy's hand. With a surreptitious glance at the homes with light coming between the tiniest cracks in the closed shutters, the children darted along the path that led from the village to the forest. Before they knew it they had crossed over the bridge that swayed in the wind sweeping through the gorge, and the trees of the unfamiliar woods were swallowing their two small forms. They did not notice the first few flakes of winter snow that silently assailed their capped heads.
"This is exciting, isn't it?" she whispered, completely awed by the great, crisscrossing canopy of mostly bare tree branches high overhead.
The wintry stillness of the forest seemed to be crackling with cool energy that entered through her nose and mouth and made her feel quite invigorated. She was positive that they would spot the wonderfully shining wolf around every massive trunk, every heap of rock or earth, every significant or thick shrub. She glanced over to her friend, expecting to see him in a state much like hers.
"Why aren't you excited?" she questioned, a bit louder this time.
"I'm trying to remember the path we take so we don't get lost."
"Don't you know? You came here before."
He looked to his crudely made boots and the leaves and other debris that they trampled. "I was running and I lost myself."
"Oh."
Ilia hadn't been so keen on that part of the story, but she realized now that it made sense. Had she thought on it longer, she might have also realized that being lost was the reason he was reluctant to come back with her, and had only agreed to it to accommodate her.
"Don't worry, Link. If we get lost I'm sure the wolf will lead us out, like he did for you," she said, in an attempt to sound reassuring, but had anyone else been listening he would have heard the very childish, innocent faith in her tone.
They wandered on for a little while, Link growing more anxious. They spotted one spooked deer and a few frisky squirrels, but the forest seemed nearly asleep and peaceful under winter's cold mantle. This calm cloak was ruffled and blown aside at times by unpredictable currents of wind. When it smacked the little explorers in the face, they gasped, were forced to turn their heads aside and catch their breath.
Ilia thought it was a good sign that they had so much space to themselves, but the boy continued to be on edge. The most alarming thing was the darkness that seemed to be closing in on them, as if night was enveloping everything hours sooner than expected.
"Why haven't we seen him yet?" she asked, nearly whining in nervousness caused by the lowering skies.
The words were hardly out of her mouth than they heard a frightful moaning and creaking. Throwing their heads up, their eyes met with lacy snowflakes, which fell and added to the frost that still remained upon the ground. Usually the first snow of the season, however late it was, brought them unbounded joy, but they could not help being afraid of it when they were as good as lost in a forest they knew not how big, a forest filled with many grasping shadows and alien sounds.
"I… I think we thould go back, Ilie," Link murmured, his voice startlingly near her ear.
She jumped again and her teeth clicked together as she whispered back, "What…was th-that noise?"
"I don't know."
They huddled in their furry outer garments and Ilia grasped her friend's hand almost instinctively. She was beginning to find out just what a foolish, fruitless idea it was to enter Faron Woods by themselves, and too late she wished with all of her six year old heart that they hadn't ventured so far from their home.
"I want t-to go back n-now," she said, in an undertone punctuated with the chattering of teeth. "You k-know the way, right, Link?"
He returned wordlessly with an affirmative gesture; he was silent because he wished so desperately to assuage her worries and his heart beat so loudly that he was sure that opening his mouth would let the sound escape. With the girl still clinging to his hand he began shuffling through the snow-topped loam of the forest floor, hoping desperately and almost holding his breath that he could adequately remember the way they'd taken.
Another creaking moan split the air already filled with snowflakes, and the sound nearly made the children jump out of their garments in fright. It seemed to be coming far over their heads, but quick, anxious glances upward did not aid them in determining the source thereof. If they hadn't been riding so hard on their fears they might have realized that the wind that was kicking up the white powder on the ground was also contorting the branches of the great trees into positions and ways the latter did not appreciate, which was the cause of those noises.
Some of the wayward gusts of wind blew more snow toward the children, causing them to gasp, blink furiously, and try their best to shield their faces. Their hands, ensconced in warm woolen mittens, still clutched at each other; as he led the way, Link managed to shield her from a small portion of the storm. They traveled as rapidly as they could but at one point Ilia tripped or slipped, almost bringing her friend down with her.
He leaned down to help her and saw that tears were pooling at the corners of eyes that seemed so darkly green with fear. So worried was he over finding the right path, Link felt like he was about to burst out bawling too, but seeing her in such a way distracted him as likely nothing else could. He gave her an empathetic hug and patted her shoulder.
"Don't cry, Ilie!" he begged.
Half whimpering, half sobbing, she gasped, "I-I'm so sc-scared!" Her one desire was to be safely surrounded in the warming bliss of her home with her family.
His mouth curved into a slight, reassuring sort of smile that always made the little girl's heart melt. "We'll…" He swallowed and tried again, making an extreme effort not to lisp, as it would only betray him. "We'll be home soon, Ilie. I know we will. So don't cry, okay?"
Pulling her to her wearied feet, he brushed the snow from the lovely blonde locks that stuck out from underneath her knitted cap and grasped her hand tightly again. He was terribly apprehensive about how much she was depending on him and he wasn't entirely sure that they were even traveling in the right direction. He'd endeavored to notice little landmarks that they'd passed earlier, as Rusl and Kern had told him certain strategies to keep one's way in the forest. The gusting snow hindered his sight and their footsteps to some degree; he felt they should have been coming out of the thickest part of the woods, but there was not yet any such cessation of the seemingly never-ending trees.
Ilia followed behind, snuffling occasionally and trying to stifle her wails of fright in an attempt to be as brave as her friend. Perhaps it was better for her that she didn't know how close to tears he actually was. When he helped her jump across a rocky creek bed, she lost his hand after the leap and went down on her hands and knees. Frantic over the loss of a human touch, she scrabbled again for his mittened fingers and clung with a grip like death.
Meanwhile, the boy trudged along, unable to keep his mind from wandering and imagining what dire thing might befall them. He hardly remembered the other piece of advice relayed to him by his uncles; if he was ever lost in a forest, they told him, he was to stay in place and yell. The combination of Ilia's accompanying fright and the cold bite in the air dictated that they should keep moving, an instinct which he followed.
He wished that someone would come and take from his shoulders the very serious burden of finding the way out of the woods, or even that the golden wolf would show himself and deliver them. With every second that passed, he was more and more convinced that he had taken a wrong turn somewhere and was only succeeding in losing himself and Ilia further. With each of those heart-pounding moments also came the hope that he would glimpse a break in the trees, an expectation which was dashed almost as soon as it had formed. Finally he could bear it no longer and he ceased movement, peering through the whitened gloom for something that would evince to him that they hadn't gone astray.
The younger child looked up at him with very wide eyes and whispered, "W-What's w-wrong, Link?"
We're lost! I don't…know…which way to go! It's my fault, Ilie… We're lost and no one knows we're here! I don't know what to do!
The fear that had alternatively lined his stomach with rocks and flew about knocking butterflies loose, now seemed to propel itself sourly up his throat; he had to clamp his mouth shut to keep the cry from escaping his lips. Even so, he made a slight little gasping sound and he abruptly turned his head so that she could not glimpse the tears that stung and blurred his vision.
The unmistakable sound of an animal's growl sounded ahead and to the right of the children. They both started, cast their eyes in the direction of the noise and the girl put her other hand on Link's arm. For perhaps a second or two they remained fastened to the spot which held them, as if they had grown roots like the very trees which surrounded them, but then they found their feet again and pelted in the opposite direction. They traveled in this fashion for several odd yards, when they ran into something rather large, furry, and somewhat rotund. So extreme was their terror that they didn't even attempt to identify the obstacle but were only trying to scramble away when two thick hands reached down and grabbed them by the scruff of the neck.
"What do you two troublemakers think you're doin'?!"
The familiar voice brought sense and reason back to the two terrified youngsters, who raised their eyes to the irate face. Instead of trying to escape, they made an about face and suddenly clutched at the fur-covered arms of the adult who had found them.
"D-D-Dad-dy! You're here! D-Daddy! There w-was something after us!" Ilia bawled, attaching herself to her father as if he was saving her from falling off a cliff.
Link reached up and put his arms as far as they could go around the substantial waist. "Uncle Bo! O-oh, we found you! I'm sorry! I'm…sorry!"
"You two," the mayor sighed.
He awkwardly patted their heads and then pulled them back a bit, putting one large hand behind each small back. The little ones tilted their red-cheeked, teary faces up to meet his and looked down again, guilt written across their faces.
"Would you two mind explainin' to me what you're doin' wanderin' in the forest? Didn't you realize it's snowin'?! People get lost in these here woods and can just as easily get froze to death at this time of year!"
Neither Link nor Ilia could lift their eyes from the ground. The girl ventured very quietly, "We just wanted to see the golden wolf…"
The green eyes of the usually laid back man fixed themselves very sternly on the young miscreants. "You were both supposed to play outside and not go wanderin' off. It's dangerous! And Link, you should know better. You're the older one and you should be settin' a good example."
The boy gulped and hung his head even further. His words were hardly distinguishable. "I'm… I'm thorry…"
"It's not Link's fault," Ilia insisted. "I begged him to!"
"It doesn't matter. You should know better. There'll be some extra chores for the two of you, to teach you not to go runnin' off to places you ain't supposed to go," said Mayor Bo, lifting their chins and looking straight into their guilt-ridden eyes.
"Yes, Daddy."
"Y-Yes, sir."
"Okay then, young'uns. We'd best be gettin' back to the village before we all turn into snowmen! There's a surprise waitin' for you at the house. And there's another at your uncle's house."
The big man scooped up his little girl and she hugged him around the neck. He could have also picked up the boy, but that would have made quite an armful, plus he knew Link would not appreciate it.
"What's the surprise, Daddy?"
"If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise, would it dumplin'?"
His strong legs took them in quick strides from the vast dimness of Faron Woods to the friendlier collection of trees that nestled against the village. As they approached the path that led from the spirit's spring, Sera bustled into them from its beautifully frigid waters where she had been praying for the safe return of the young ones.
"Oh! You found them, Bo! Thank the heavens above!"
"They're safe and sound and I'm sure they won't be goin' off by themselves anytime soon."
Tiny little Beth, not even two years old yet, wriggled within her mother's arms and reached her own chubby ones out toward the boy. "Li! Li!" she cried.
"There, there, my little one, you can play later and in warmer surroundings than this. Brrr! It is cold!"
They hastened back to the dwellings which would welcome them with comforting fires, both parents bearing their little girls. Bringing up the rear was Link, who dragged his feet in the dust where his pride had already fallen. He had witnessed the distinctly disappointed look upon the features of a man in whom he held such respect, and he knew to his very soul that he had done a very naughty thing. Even now he certainly could not comprehend the myriad dangers that could have prevented both him and his best friend from ever leaving, but he did realize how truly foolish they had been. While he wished with most of his being that he had not given in to Ilia's pleas, a small part of him thought that he wasn't sorry for trying to make her happy. She was surely dissatisfied that they'd hadn't found the golden wolf and despite the trouble into which they'd immersed themselves, he still wished there was some way he could make that one desire of hers come to fruition.
Through the trees, the seven-year-old barely glimpsed the sacred spring and thought he saw something of a distinctly golden hue shining and standing in the center of the shallow waters, but when he jerked his head back for another look, he saw only falling snow and pale, silvery gray liquid. He stopped on the spot and stared, wishing he knew quite what it was he'd seen in that half-second glance.
"Link, lad, yer fallin' behind," came Bo's deep voice.
The boy hurried after them. Not ten minutes later they were removing their goatskin boots just inside the doors of that man's house. The mayor was usually so stern of mouth and tone, but upon nearing the building he had taken on an attitude that was very nearly gleeful. He was actually beaming and his eyes shone with unmistakable pride.
Ilia had not forgotten the promised surprise and hardly had the door shut behind them than she queried impatiently, "What's the surprise, Daddy? Can I see it now?"
"If you two are very quiet I'll show you. Come to the bedroom."
At that moment one of Link's boots slipped from his half frozen fingers and hit the floor with a thunk. Immediately, he grabbed it again and set it aside with the other one, hoping that he hadn't made the kind of noise against which Bo had cautioned them. He glanced up guiltily but was relieved that no one gave him any undue notice. As he followed his uncle and best friend into the darkened bedroom, he noticed briefly that Omelie was bustling about here instead of in her own home.
"Mama!" Ilia exclaimed, running to the high bed with wooden frame in which lay a blissfully happy, though exhausted woman.
"There you are, my little girl. I am glad your father brought you. Would you like to see your little brother?"
The six-year-old stopped short as she glimpsed the bundle containing a pink-faced, miniscule human with eyes that were firmly buttoned up and ears that seemed to just poke themselves out of the blanket in a very comical way. Her intention had been to clamber up to her mother and give her a big hug and wet kiss, but the sudden appearance of the tiny fellow perplexed her to such a degree she was reduced to goggling at him.
"Come, Link. You must take a look too. Isn't he beautiful?"
The mayor came around the other side of the bed and stood by his wife's side. She slipped her hand to him and he hid it in both of his thick ones. Link also approached and joined his friend in gawking at the softly slumbering infant.
"We've decided to call him Gilles," said the lady who had become a mother all over again.
"Well you two, don't just stand there," Bo muttered. "What do you think of the new addition to the family?"
"Where did he come from?" asked the boy, for his curiosity had grown with the younger generation of villagers.
"Hem…" Bo half-drawled, half-chuckled. "That's another tale for another time. What do you think of him? Isn't he a fine looking lad? He'll grow up to look just his mother and sister—look at that yeller hair!—and we'll teach him how to throw a ball and plant pumpkins and wrestle, won't we, Link? He's already twice as strong as me, anyway. If you put your finger in his hand, he'll hold onto it just as tight as he can, you see if he won't!"
The very obviously delighted man would likely have demonstrated his point if the baby hadn't been asleep. Link grinned and leaned nearer the child, wondering what he would be like when he was about Ruben's age.
"Ilia, you're awfully quiet. What's wrong?" Emeline asked.
The head of the small girl was bent, her mouth was pulled into a disagreeable little frown, and frustrated tears prickled at her eyes. She wouldn't look up at her parents, the baby, or her best friend.
"Come on, sweetie, you can tell us. Don't you like your brother?"
"…No," she whispered, and threw her face into the coverings at the side of the bed.
"Oh, sweetie…!" Emeline's voice wavered a bit and she could just barely reach to put her hand on her daughter's head. "Climb up here next to mama."
She mounted the bed with a little difficulty and there she leaned against her mother while squeezing big tears from her eyes.
"Dearie, why do you say that? He's not ugly, do you think, is he? What's the matter then?"
Ilia gulped and sobbed, wiped her nose on her sleeve and finally managed to give voice to her grief. "What do you want him f-for? D-Don't you love m-me still?"
She burst forth in fresh tears and tried not to look at the infant. From his point against the side of the bed, Link stroked at her hand but she pushed him away irately.
"My sweet little Ilia… My little girl who brings me my favorite wildflowers, my dear child whose cuts and bruises I have kissed, your father and I could never stop loving you. We love you so much, in fact, that we wanted to give you a little brother of your very own. We love both you and Gilles so very, very much."
"You…you do?"
"Of course we do. We are family and families love each other."
"Come here, my little girl," said Bo, holding his arms out to her, his voice just slightly husky. She went around her mother and he held her quite firmly in his broad arms.
Emeline moved her hand to the boy, who still stood watching with a keen eye. "And you too are a part of our family, aren't you Link?"
The boy nodded and looked worriedly at his friend.
"Do you think we love either of you better than the other?" the mayor inquired, fixing his daughter so that green eye met green eye.
"No," she mumbled, putting her nose to his stubbly neck.
"We could have a dozen children and we would still love you. It doesn't stop there, though. This village is like a big family and everyone looks out for everyone else. It's the way we work here. Do you understand, Ilia?"
She gave a halfway intelligible reply and sniffled; her father caressed her back. Emeline patted the boy's hands again and smiled very tiredly. They remained like that for some moments more, and then Omelie whisked into the room and suggested that the little ones come get something to eat.
A bit later, Link also saw the other "surprise" at Rusl and Uli's house. Their baby was just a little bit smaller and didn't have any hair, but the seven-year-old had a feeling he was going to like the infant that looked at him with the most adorable blue eyes and grabbed the boy's finger as if it belonged on his own hand rather than Link's.
And that was how two more children were welcomed into the village at the beginning of what turned out to be the heaviest snowstorm that province had seen in over two decades. Ordon received more precipitation by way of rain during the winter months, but they did occasionally receive snowfalls that delighted the children to no end. Two months later there were still small patches of the muddy snow mellowing in shady corners, and another newborn baby's cry could be heard from Jaggle and Pergie's millhouse.
~O~
One evening in late summer, with the heat of the day bringing a flush to sky and children alike, Link, Ilia, and several of the others were once again playing by the spirit's spring. Uli had asked eight-year-old Link to care for little Colin, who was almost eight months old and finding new freedom with his new mobility. Because Ilia was also tasked with keeping her small brother out of harm's way, she and her best friend decided to have a race with the two babies, to see which one could crawl to them first. They kept trying, but the blonde infants were much more interesting in splashing in the delightfully cool waters than they were in heeding the cries of "Come on, Gilles!" and "Colin, come on! Come to me!" Eventually they surrendered to the utter futility of their plan and sat at the bank with their feet tickling the edges of the spring.
"What are you thinking of, Link?" queried the girl, noting the faraway look in his eyes that meant his mind was elsewhere.
With a blink he found himself still sitting on the sand. "Oh, I was just thinking…about my parents."
"What about them? You don't know who they are, do you?"
"N-o-o…but I like to think about them and imagine who they are. I bet my mother is pretty and nice, and my father is brave and maybe he's a soldier like in some of Granny's stories."
"Link… Uhm… Why…why were you all alone in the woods when you were just a baby? Doesn't anyone know where you came from…or anything?"
"You remember Granny told us the whole story, right? How Uncle Rusl, Uncle Bo, and Uncle Juble were hunting in the woods and suddenly they saw the golden wolf. They knew they wouldn't be able to kill him even if they tried, but they followed him all the same. They moved quickly because they wanted to catch up to him, but they couldn't. He always kept a marked distance between them; he seemed to move between the trees like he was a ghost and left no evidence of his passing. Then the golden wolf disappeared altogether and the last place they saw him was at the base of an old, gnarly tree. When they examined the tiny cavern made below a couple of the trunk's massive roots, they found me all wrapped up in blankets. Granny says that I was sleeping until Uncle Bo picked me up," said Link, repeating the elderly lady's tale and borrowing many of her words because he'd heard it many a time since his own adventure with the golden beast.
"You started crying and didn't stop until they brought you to the village and Fado's mom nursed you," Ilia giggled.
"Yeah… I guess I was hungry all right," the boy said, with a bit of an embarrassed flush coming to his face. He had the distinct feeling that she had egged him on to get him to tell the story.
"Don't stop now. You haven't forgotten about the blanket you were wrapped in, have you?"
"Of course I didn't forget. The blanket was green, which Uncle Rusl says didn't really blend with the leaves in the rooty space where they found me. In the corner someone had embroidered my name and a little triangle in gold thread."
"That's how everyone knew what to call you! What would they have done if your name wasn't there?"
"I don't know. I suppose they would've picked one out. Maybe something great like the heroes and kings in some of Granny's books!"
"I couldn't imagine calling you anything else, Link. It would be so strange— Ah!" Suddenly, she noticed that her little brother was trying to sample some sand and she rushed forward to intercept his hand. "Gilles! Drop that! Don't put it in your mouth! Bad baby!"
"I know just what I'd like to call you, and it wouldn't seem strange at all. Heh heh," snickered a new voice.
He knew who it was before he turned around; Hyram stood behind him, one hand on hip and the other playing with a bit of grass in his mouth. The older boy drew closer in what he thought was a smooth stride until he stepped in a hollow of sand.
"Were you listening to us the whole time?" the eight-year-old sighed.
"'Course I was. This spring isn't your personal property, little boy."
Link had found it more advantageous to ignore those slights and he turned his eyes from Hyram to the little one he was supposed to be watching. Fortunately, Colin was a remarkably well-behaved infant and needed less supervision than Gilles. The older child came around and made a nuisance of himself by splashing the babies.
"I heard what you said about your parents. Want me to tell you something?"
Whether Link did or not was beside the point, and well he knew it; a small bit of him was curious about what Hyram would say, but he had a slight sinking feeling that it wouldn't have been anything he would like. He kept silent and didn't deign to give any eye contact.
"I heard my dad and the other adults talking about it one time. They were talking about you and why someone just left you in the woods like that. They said it was probably because your parents didn't care about you."
The face of the younger boy grew very red, his mouth assumed a very dark scowl, and his fearsomely aroused blue eyes seemed very wild and put a tremor in even Hyram's bravado. Before he could form any sort of scathing reply, someone else intervened most angrily, giving the eldest child a good shove.
"How dare you say such a thing!" cried Ilia, having rescued the sand from her brother, or vice versa. "You are mean-headed bully!"
"I really did hear it," the eleven-year-old insisted, folding his arms again and making a face at her.
"No you didn't. They would say that! You're lying again! I know you are!"
"How would you know? You're too little to know anything, missy. Anyway, this doesn't concern you. Go away, you annoying scrap!"
"I am not!" she cried, kicking at his shin and missing. "You… You…"
"You parsimonious blatherskite!" Link finished, after frantically searching his memory for some long and impressive-sounding words that he'd heard from Granny.
"Yeah!" the girl chimed in. "You're a persimmon brother-whatsit!"
Luckily enough for the younger boy, Hyram had no more idea what those words meant than he did, but they sure sounded insulting. His own eyes blazing with indignation, he moved almost menacingly closer to Link and roughly poked his finger to the eight-year-old's chest.
"You always think you're better than us, don't you?! You and your lofty pointed ears! Well, I say you're not! You're a wimp and you are always being defended by a girl!"
They remained like that for a good minute, glaring at each other. Ilia also stood very close and stabbed Hyram with her own wrathful gaze, but for the moment no one was giving the least bit of attention to her.
"And you are a coward! I bet you're too much of a coward to fight!"
Somehow, that statement so vociferated brought Link out of his blind, white flurry of anger. Upon shifting his gaze, he noted that the other children had ceased their little pleasurable activities and were staring with slightly frightened eyes at what was transpiring between the two boys. Fado finally managed to unfreeze himself and close his gaping mouth, Beth watched him with wide, lashy eyes, and Colin's dimpled little mouth was tugging downward, a sign that he was about to bawl.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" said the child with the mess of golden-brown hair. His eyes still burned with the desire to avenge the name of his unknown parents, and his hands remained clenched by his sides, but he was just aware and smart enough not to take the bait. "You'd like to beat me up in front of everyone. Well, I'm not going to fight you."
"See?" the eldest boy chortled. "You are afraid! You're nothing but a squawking cucco!"
"Shut up, Hyram!" Ilia commanded with fiercely lowering brow. "Link, come on, let's get out of here!"
They picked up the two babies and struggled a bit with them, bearing them back to the village. The girl muttered a few things under her breath as Hyram made cucco sounds and flapped his arms to their retreating backs, but Link was strangely silent. He was exceptionally quiet for the remainder of the evening and lay awake that night with a whole storm of tumultuous thoughts swirled about his brain.
Hyram always made fun of him for his lisping, he took every chance he could to tell Link he wasn't much more than a baby, he had disdained the younger boy's endeavors with pumpkin planting and goat rearing, and he took what seemed perverse pleasure in calling him names and causing discomfort or embarrassment. On the night of that snowy day on which Colin and Gilles had been born, the Hylian child had to move to Kern and Neta's house a bit sooner than expected; he slept in the small bed with Hyram, who whispered jeeringly to him about getting lost in the forest again. He made fun of Link's penchant for stories and storytelling, and of his simple little works of art which the younger boy was quite proud. He even scoffed at the existence of the golden wolf and the fact that the otherworldly beast had saved Link. What was really the last straw was the blatant disrespect of saying such things of his parents, combined with the nasty name-calling and insults, not just directed at himself, but at Ilia too.
Granny's advice of turning the other cheek hadn't been altogether ineffective, and ignoring the older boy only garnered more carefully chosen taunts. Link was so weary of everything that he'd been forced to endure because of that other child and he made up his mind, quite irrevocably, about what he was going to do.
He woke up during the fresh hours of the morning when the sun was just starting bring a pale blush to the bit of sky that he could see through the skylight of Jaggle and Pergie's house. He wondered if he dared go through with it, but he thought again of everything Hyram had said and told himself, firmly, that he would have to for the sake of his parents, who he was sure had loved him, and for his best friend. His dreams were still troubled, but he slumbered away the remainder of the early hours without waking again.
The next day, Link performed his chores with less exactness than he usually did, which drew the attention of several people. Sera scolded him for carelessness with the corn she had told him to shuck; in a tone a bit rougher than usual, Juble asked where his mind was when the boy started milking the same goat twice; and Rusl told him to leave the forge because he was not being attentive to the fact that there was a very hot fire burning therein. Later on, the boy went off, no one knew where, and stayed away until mealtime.
That night, when everyone had gone to bed and should have been asleep, one small figure crept from the millhouse, around a few obstacles, and through a few tiny dells seemingly created by shadows and moonlight. Link tried not to let the amplified noises of night unnerve him or distract him from his purpose as he crept to another of the buildings and pulled himself up to the little window under which he knew Hyram's bed was located. A bit awkwardly, he reached his hand through the open aperture and gave a tug at the sheet which covered the youth.
"Huh? Stop pulling," the eleven-year-old mumbled drowsily.
"Shhh. Hy, it's me," whispered the child with the sharply pointed ears as he shook a resistant arm.
The boy rose partway and hissed under his breath, "What are you doing?! Do you want to wake up my parents?"
"Come out and I'll tell you," replied Link, whereupon he dropped from the window and went around the corner of the house to wait near its main portal.
Not a minute later Hyram emerged, pulling down the shirt that he'd just donned and peering about for the one who had so disturbed him. "This had better be important. If I find out you dragged me out of bed for something stupid, I—"
"This is not stupid," he averred. "Let's go somewhere else where no one will hear us."
Without wasting a breath or waiting for a response, Link padded off on bare feet that were nearly as silent as those belonging to the golden wolf of which he was so fond. Hyram hesitated for a mere second or two; he was awake enough that his curiosity was also aroused, and thus did he follow until they were in the woods just beyond the very old treehouse.
"This is far enough," the younger of the two said, and turned slowly.
"Okay, so what do you want? You're going to really regret it if you've brought me all this way in the middle of the night 'cause you want to play a trick on me."
"No. I came out here so we could fight."
"W-What?" Hyram stuttered.
"You thaid you wanted to fight, didn't you?"
"Yes, but… I didn't think…you ever would…"
"Well, I do. Are you ready?"
"Wait now… You're not going to tell everyone I beat you up, are you? What a sneaky, lowdown—"
"I'm not going to tell anyone. You have to keep it a secret, too. I don't want anyone to know. Do you promithe you won't tell?"
"Psh! I don't need to promise anything! You're going to be sorry you tried fighting me, brat."
Link just assumed a very slight, nervous sort of smile that, combined with the intermittent moonlight and the shadows of the be-leafed trees, seemed just a bit unsettling to the human who faced him. "Are you ready?"
"Ready? There was never a time I wasn't ready. I'm going to rub that little face of yours into the dirt!"
They stood just a little bit apart from each other and Hyram took the first swing, which, if it had connected, would have hit the other boy just below the eye. He kept throwing his rather clumsy punches, but most of them missed. At first the younger boy traded very few blows, which were not much better directed than those which he ducked and dodged.
All the boys of Ordon received instruction to some degree or another from Mayor Bo on the ways of defending themselves with mere fists. The young ones often distained those lessons with the excuse that they would never have use for such skills, but it seemed that Link had paid a bit more attention than his opponent. The eight-year-old watched Hyram very carefully, noting his every move and the way he threw his fists, and then he began reciprocating jab for jab.
They followed no especial set of rules. Link was smaller and lighter than the elder child, but it made it easier for him to duck wild punches and to get around his opponent. Hyram was both perplexed and irate that the battle wasn't going as he thought it would; his frustration caused him to be a mite careless. Sometimes they got into a clinch or fell to the ground, and delivered blows at very close quarters; because he was at a disadvantage under such circumstance, Link separated himself as rapidly as he could, which was not necessarily an easy prospect. They trampled and rolled over every small plant that had the misfortune of being in their way and any nearby animals that had settled down for the night were startled into sudden flight.
The breath of both boys came in ragged gasps as they tumbled to the ground once again; their energies just about spent but still stubborn, they arose and viewed each other warily. Their punches were hardly making contact anymore; after several of these fruitless swings, they collided again, got all tangled up in a mass of arms, legs, and flailing fists, and fell once more to the turf with a few last, much weakened blows.
They rolled away from each other but were simply too exhausted to do anything else but to respire heavily. Their hearts beat twin rhythms in their heaving chests, their clothes and especially their shirts were begrimed, torn, and saturated with sweat, and their faces stung with contusions and abrasions. Their hands and bared arms were also quite dirty and scratched, and their knuckles and hands in little better condition than the aforementioned faces.
"Have you…had…enough?" said Link between gasps for air, as he turned his head toward his companion.
"Y-Yeah…" the other boy muttered; five minutes ago he wouldn't have said that, but now he was too fatigued to care.
The child with the pointed ears smiled just a bit. "That…was a…good fight! I hope…I didn't hurt you…too much… I didn't mean to… I just wanted to thow you…I'm not afraid…"
"Heh…heh… I'm okay… You hit pretty hard… for a little kid."
Hyram actually grinned at him and they clasped hands tightly as they lay there, letting their lungs catch up to their wildly galloping breath. After a time, they rose and looked at each other; for once the elder boy's expression was not one of derision or scorn but actually held a smattering of respect.
"What time is it?" Link queried quietly around his split lip. "I guess we should get back…"
"Yeah. My dad'll probably lick me good if he finds out I sneaked out of the house. But of course no one would do that to you." The last part he uttered rather bitterly.
The smaller child viewed him with a bemused expression. "Uh… Your nose is bleeding."
"So's yours. Boy, if my mother saw us she'd throw a fit. I guess we should wash off in the spring before we go back."
"Okay."
The two boys started off and a slightly embarrassed Hyram took the lead. As they were nearing the sacred spot, Link scurried to catch up and he turned his head slightly to look at his companion through the dimly lit forest path.
"Um, Hy? What did you mean before?"
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
"When you said no one would lick me. What did you mean?"
By this time they reached the moonlit place of the light sprit, whereupon they crouched or knelt in the spring, removed their shirts and began splashing the water to their varied scrapes and contusions.
"Don't pretend you don't know," the eleven-year-old replied, sullenly.
"But I don't. Why'd you say it?
Hyram turned his eyes from the task of stubbornly scrubbing at the splats of blood that had blemished his shirt. "You're everyone's favorite," he muttered at last.
Link could not have been more dumbfounded. He pulled his bruised, dripping left hand from the softly glistening waters and just stared with mouth agape. "I-Is that what you think?"
"Isn't it obvious? Everything you do is worthy in their eyes. You plant pumpkins, you help with the goats, you take care of the kids and you get trusted with things I didn't when I was eight. You never get yelled at for doing something wrong. You're good at everything and it's not fair!"
At that moment the younger boy realized something rather astounding. Kneeling in the spirit's spring, with shoulders bent and a sopping shirt resting on his legs, Hyram was crying. He tried his utmost to disguise it, with his averted face and the slight hitching of his breath which he did not quite succeed in controlling. Link gaped at him, his jaw slack and his own doffed garment forgotten.
"Is that why you don't like me?"
"I guess. It's hard to like someone who's perfect."
"But I'm not. Granny says no one is perfect and if we were we'd be awfully boring. You should have heard Aunt Sera yell at me for what I did with the corn."
"What did you do?"
"U-Uh," Link stuttered, wiggling his toes. The color of embarrassment upon his cheeks was not especially discernable in the moonlight. "Umm…"
"Come on, tell me!"
"Well… I accidentally gave the corn to the goats, instead of the husk."
"Boy, that was a dumb thing to do!" Hyram guffawed.
The child with the pointed ears pouted. "You don't have to laugh about it. It wasn't funny. By the time I got back to the goats they'd eaten most of the corn and Aunt gave a lecture about wasting good food."
"Yeah, I've heard that one. Still, it is funny! Ha ha ha!"
"Stop it, Hy!" exclaimed the young boy, flinging water at his companion.
Hyram spluttered and grinned quite good-naturedly this time. "You're going to pay for that, you little…!"
They forgot their scrapes and the cleansing of their shirts and launched into quite a splashing tournament. They laughed uproariously, chased each other around and around the area, choked on water that flew up their noses, and could but barely see what they were doing. Their shirts drifted to the very edges of the spring, with some of the grime slowly bleeding from them.
The sport ended when the boys glimpsed a deer in the moonlight several yards away. It was a magnificent buck which lifted his splendidly antlered head to gaze with some suspicion at the trespassers who had invaded his watering place.
"Wow, look at that," whispered Link. "Isn't he great?"
Both stood motionless as the animal dipped his head and drank, still keeping one eye on them. He hadn't yet satisfied his thirst when the older child shifted a foot in the water, causing a ring of ripples around him; the buck started, whipped up his head and looked at them warily. He seemed to have decided he'd had enough and the next second saw him bounding into the trees and brush.
Hyram flopped into the water again with a sharp exhalation. "Yeah, I guess he was pretty great looking. Did you see those antlers of his? They must have at least sixteen points!"
"He was surprised to find us here," said the younger boy as a single shiver coursed through him.
"Uh-huh," the elder replied, absently. "Boy, I wish I had some huge antlers like that."
"Oh, I know! We can ask Uncle Bo and maybe Uncle Rusl if we can look for some antlers when the deer shed them!"
"It's not easy finding the antlers, you know. Squirrels and other animals will eat them. If we were to find some we'd have to do it just after they fall off."
"I could help you. I bet we could find some nice antlers if we look together."
Hyram smiled a bit crookedly and muttered, "Yeah, I suppose we could try. You're not such a bad kid after all."
"Just don't ever say those things about my parents," said Link, involuntarily clenching the fingers of his left hand. "I… I know they must have loved me… Don't ever say anything bad about them!"
"Okay, okay! I won't. Don't get yourself all twisted up! I guess I better not say anything about them or you'll pick a fight with me, huh?"
"Maybe I would," replied he of the pointy ears, smiling a bit and loosing his fist.
They clasped hands briefly; then the drenched boys located and gathered up their discarded shirts and began trudging the path back to their homes. The forest enshrouded by night felt eerie to the younger child, and now that his tremendous resolve, which had kept him from thinking about much else, was no longer with him, he was glad for another human presence nearby. Perhaps Hyram, too, was a mite disconcerted by the myriad of strange and unknown shadows around them; he moved with rapid strides and quick glances around him.
Tiptoeing into the village, they separated, crept back to their homes and gave way to slumber within minutes. The next morning, both Pergie and Neta found a small heap of damp, discarded clothing by the sides of their beds and shook the boys to wakefulness and an explanation.
"Link!" exclaimed a harried Pergie around the wails of infant Talo. "Why are these wet things on the floor?! You know where the clothesline is. Go out and hang these things to dry right now!"
"Yes, aunt," he mumbled, rubbing at eyes that still seemed half full of dreams.
He tripped outdoors, feeling sore from the late-night, unaccustomed exercise, and met Hyram at the big clothesline between the two houses. The latter raised a sleepy-eyed head and glanced at the approaching boy.
"Hey, Link. Did you get yelled at for the same thing?"
"Uh huh. Aunt told me to hang these up."
Link pulled over a wooden box so that it was below one of the strung cords, mounted it, and threw his clothes over one of the lines. Neither he nor Hyram had yet learned the importance of hanging garments in a manner that they would more rapidly dry, something for which the ladies remonstrated them later.
By midmorning, every villager above the age of three knew that the two boys had been involved in a fight. The adults questioned them to some degree, but both were quite reticent about it. Even without confirmation, everyone could tell by viewing the bruises upon face and arm that they had tussled and Link certainly hadn't lost.
"Do you think you should talk to him?" asked a concerned Uli of her husband.
"Why? Those two are fine and getting along better than they ever have. Don't worry about Link, dear. Boys need to fight every once in a while and he is a tough little fellow."
It was quite true. Hyram still teased Link at times, but the elder boy exhibited more respect for the younger. He suggested the next year that Hyram should help him plant the pumpkins and the twelve-year-old learned the pleasure of helping harvest the great orange pumpkins. His father rewarded his work with a trip to Castle Town for the sale of their produce and other goods. When a nine-year-old Link climbed a tree to coax down Ilia's cat, he had a tumble and sprained his ankle; the eldest youth laughed at first and then aided his hobbling junior to the house where he was staying. Before winter was fully upon them, they located a fine set of antlers in the woods and Hyram proudly displayed them on the wall over his bed.
The children were as contented as young things like them could be, the adults were satisfied with another year's bounteous harvest and settled comfortably into their familiar winter routines, and Sera was expecting another child, quite torn on whether she wanted a boy or another girl. Ordon Village seemed quite the idyllic place it been and no one doubted anything but that their good fortune would continue to be so. Only Granny's eyes saw the grief that was to come as she looked to the dark clouds shadowing the distant fields and hills.
"Great hardships and much suffering come our way…" she muttered.
As always, I greatly appreciate feedback from anyone who has read and enjoyed this. Do the characters seem like those you know in the game? Which one(s) might you especially like? If you have a few minutes or moments to spare, please let me know what you thought. Coming up next is another chapter for my OoT story!
See you later...
03-10-2016 ~ Published