THE HERO OF TIME
The wind blew exceptionally hard through the inland town of Outset. It whistled through the empty cobbled streets, blowing against locked windows and doors that hid the frightened townsfolk. It blew through the narrow alleyways and passages, scouring the village for any foolhardy enough to stay outside. There were none. At the southern edge of the town it crashed against the face of the cliff that sheltered the people living below. The wind blew up the cliff face, higher, higher, high into the sky.
And when the wind had nearly reached the top of the cliff, it encountered a shadow on the rock face, an enormous silhouette cast by the monster betwixt it and the evening sun. It was massive; shaped like a bird, it was too large to be any ordinary carrion. At least a hundred feet in length, the monster floated above the village below, riding upon the wind as it continued to rise. Two blood red eyes peered out from its feathered brow, searching for any prey to torture and consume. Its wings were a mottled mixture of crimson, blue, and white, and its three long tails wafted behind it in shades of stunning gold.
Up the wind raged, around the enormous wings to the very top of the cliff where it blew fiercely across the barren plateau. Except that today, the plateau was not barren. There was a small patch of green. Green that was sprinting toward the edge of the flat terrain. His tunic and long green cap flailed behind him as he ran, catching the gusts that seemed not to touch the man that fought them.
He reached the edge of the plateau, and leapt.
He fell like an eagle, arms and legs spread wide to control his descent, and electric blue eyes locked onto his target. His face was drawn in determination and fearless resolve; it was not a look that said he could not afford to fail, but rather that he simply would not. It seemed like he fell for an eternity, wind streaming past his body, but his shadow upon the cliff face soon began to draw near to a similar darkness. The man drew his sword out of the intricate scabbard that was fastened upon his back, and, with an almighty roar that could be heard even in the town hundreds of feet below, sheathed his legendary blade into the back of the winged beast.
With a screech of surprise and pain, the bird faltered; the beat of its giant wings slowed, then stopped altogether. Together, man and bird plunged toward the ground, tumbling around and around in a nauseating freefall. It took all of his strength for the man to keep from being flung off from his perch upon the bird's back, and even with his adrenaline pumping wildly, his arms soon grew tired.
The noise had aroused some cautious curiosity in the town below, and slowly people were beginning to emerge from their houses, each inevitably turning to watch and wonder at the incident occurring in the skies above. Some began to laugh and dance; some just stared in disbelief; some began to panic, hurriedly calling out to their families and gathering some distance away.
Wood, brick, and dirt erupted where the giant bird smashed into the cobblestone; the streets shook with the force of the impact and the shockwave sent many townsfolk tumbling.
It took some time for the dust to clear, and the thinning cloud of earth saw some of the more intrepid townsfolk beginning to creep toward the unmoving mass of flesh and feathers that had crashed into their village square.
Without warning, one of the giant wings began to move, sending everyone scurrying back to the safety of the shadows around the plaza. The wing twitched and rose slowly, inch by inch, until the figure of a man could be seen in the shadows underneath. With a loud grunt, he threw off the giant feathery mass and jumped to the cobbled street below, Master Sword in hand. Breathing heavily, he collapsed against the side of the bird's carcass, momentarily overtaken by exhaustion.
As he rested, some of the townsfolk began to re-emerge. Who was this stranger? they wondered, too accustomed to the silence that the monster had laid over their town to voice their questions aloud. Did he kill the murderous bird? Where did he come from? Slowly, the entire village gathered around the man, waiting.
After some time he began to stir again. With a groan, the young man pushed himself back to his feet, and after taking a moment to wipe the blood from the blade, sheathed his sword. At the sight of his weapon some of the oldest villagers became excited, gesturing wildly and whispering, "The Goddesses have saved us! Princess Zelda has not forgotten her people!"
Before long, one man worked his way forward. His grey hair and beard were at odds with the fortitude and strength that shone through his frail frame.
"My name is Deteont; I am the mayor of this town," he said after a moment. The mayor's eyes slid to the giant carcass behind the green clad warrior. "Wh—who are you stranger?"
"My name is Link," the young man replied without hesitation. "I am the Hero of Time."
"Fill'er up!" Link called out to the tavern keeper, already too drunk to speak clearly. Dutifully, the stout man refilled Link's beaker with brandy, giving the town's hero a sideways look for his crude behavior. With what he deemed the proper amount of drink in his cup, Link again sagged against the wooden bar.
The tavern was small – less than half a dozen tables were strewn about the room – but it was by no means poor. Link had, at first, been treated to the highest quality of wine the tavern owned and had been surrounded by no few villagers wanting to shake his hand and thank him again and again for saving their town. By the time the wine had run out, most of the townsfolk had returned to their homes. Now Link was the only patron left in the tavern, and the even the brandy he was given was of progressively lower quality.
Link laid his head against the wooden table and closed his eyes. He could almost see her, could almost hear her laugh. Almost.
It was getting harder and harder to remember, even when his other thoughts were quieted by drink, how beautiful she looked in the sun. Three years and he had nearly forgotten everything about her. He cursed at himself. He may never be able to forgive himself for what happened, but he could live with the guilt so long as he could see her face.
Link took another swig of brandy. He just needed his other thoughts to quiet. He just needed to see her again…
Link cried out, his scream mixing with hers as Ganon's magic took hold of her. The dark energy seeped through her, covering her with what looked like black fire.
Link thrashed around in his captor's grip, but to no avail. He screamed again as the black light faded away. She seemed almost untouched by the magic, still standing in the same position, still holding her arms up to protect Link. But she didn't stir. Her chest didn't move, her heart didn't beat. It was her corpse that stood before Link, her corpse and his broken heart.
"NOO!" Link screamed, shooting up in bed. Sweat covered his brow, and he struggled to control the gut-wrenching spasms still surging through him. Burying his face in his hands, Link focused on slowing his breathing. "Just another dream," he told himself over and over again. No, it's not just a dream, he cried out silently. Dreams aren't real.
Slowly he brought his head up to survey the room he found himself in, noting the painful throbbing behind his eyes as he did so. It was small, with just the one cot he had woken on and a washbasin on a shelf near the window.
Link pushed himself to his feet, wincing at the pain in his head, and stumbled over to the washbasin. After thoroughly wetting his face, he took a look out the window. The sun was already fairly high in the sky, and down the street he could see the townsfolk making preparations to burn the remains of the giant bird he had felled yesterday. As he used his long green cap to wipe the water away, he realized from his location that he must still be in the tavern. With a groan, he made his way to the door, trying and failing to remember how he got into the room last night.
Down the stairs, Link dragged up a stool and took a seat at the bar across from the tavern keeper. "Anything for a headache?" he asked quietly. The older man nodded and silently went about preparing something for him. Link was grateful for the silence, and he used the respite to glance around the empty chamber.
"All our folk are out helpin' get rid a' that big ol' bird," the tavern keeper said, putting a putrid yellow drink on the bar in front of Link. "I'd be too if it weren't for ya needin' to use our spare room."
Link ignored the thinly veiled reproach in the man's voice and took a long drink of whatever was in the mug, forcing himself not to gag it back up. The other man seemed like he wanted to keep talking, but Link got up and moved to a table before he could say any more. Quiet was what he wanted now, and as soon as he was able, he planned to be gone from this dead-end town.
After choking down the rest of his drink and a small meal that the tavern keeper set before him, Link returned to his room and succumbed to his weariness from the previous day's fight. He slept through the remainder of the day and well into the night, only rising a few hours before daybreak when he could be sure that no one remained awake.
Silent as a shadow, he belted his sword onto his back and climbed through the room's window, dexterously dropping to the ground below and rolling to soften the landing. With no more noise than a cat, Link leapt out of the roll and sprinted down the street, his feet barely disturbed the dust as he ran.
He loathed the hours of ceremony and gift giving that inevitably accompanied him whenever he left a town like this. It was pointless and made him feel ridiculous. Much better to be gone in the night, he said to himself silently.
Link made his way out the eastern edge of town, only slowing once he was well sheltered by the trees and underbrush around the village. Breathing evenly, Link veered north ducking through several wheat fields to avoid being spotted as he made his way toward where he had stashed his horse and belongings before climbing up the cliff.
It didn't take long to find the small alcove. His horse, whom he had dubbed Tingle after an odd little man he'd met in castle town, was still waiting patiently under the spruce tree Link had tied him to. Without wasting any time, Link quickly uncovered the rest of his belongings from in the brush where he'd hidden them. Unwrapping his pack from the waterproof skins he'd covered it with, he saddled Tingle, hoisted his bow over his back, and rode out without word or backwards glance.
Precaution led him to stay just off the road leading out of Outset so that he could easily hide in the brush at any sign of villagers out searching for him. However, the morning passed without incident, and by afternoon Link had begun to relax slightly.
It was nearing evening before Link saw anyone on the road at all. A lone horseman appeared just after his dust cloud, riding hard on the road toward Outset. Although it couldn't have been a villager, Link still left the main road and waited in the dense trees for the man to pass. He didn't want to risk the horseman telling anyone in Outset about meeting him on the road.
As the rider flew by, Link peered through the trees and was suddenly thankful for his caution. The man wore the royal colors of Hyrule, and his comical red hat made him out to be a member of the messenger's guild. Likely another missive for me from one of the nobles, Link thought with a sigh. Or worse, another assignment from Princess Zelda.
Link had quickly come to despise these constant tasks that Zelda set upon him. He understood that it was his duty as the Hero of Time, but he was seldom allowed to rest, and even when he was, his legacy garnered so much attention that he felt he was suffocating under the pressure of notoriety; he just wanted to be left alone.
Leading Tingle back up to the narrow road, Link remounted and continued on his way. Trees slowly gave way to wide grassy fields as he rode, but he saw very little in the way of farmland; the next town was still too far away. He traveled as far as he could – until darkness had nearly overtaken the land – before stopping to rest for the night. With neither a farm nor the next town in sight, he led Tingle into a small copse of trees a little off the main road and curled up with the waterproof skins under some brush.
Link rode the entire next day as well, passing few other travelers on the road. However, toward the end of the day he encountered several small farmhouses and managed to trade some rupees for dinner and a bed for the night.
Link woke up early in the morning and left, careful not to wake anyone as he snuck out the door and retrieved Tingle from the barn. The crisp dawn air bit as his ears as he rode, reprimanding him for his rude departure.
He saw more people along the road as the morning progressed, and by noon he'd found himself in the next town. Link made his way straight for the inn, hoping to stay there for a few days before moving onward; he wasn't in a hurry to get back to Castle Town.
After leaving Tingle with a stable hand, Link entered the inn and took a long look around. The building doubled as the town's tavern; nearly a dozen tables were scattered around the big room, and the stairs at the back of the hall led to about as many rooms for rent. Few other travelers and townsfolk graced the tables at this time of day, so Link was surprised to see a girl singing and playing her harp on the small stage across the floor from the bar.
She's pretty good, Link admitted. After a quick yet futile search for the innkeeper behind the counter, Link took a seat at one of the tables to listen to the music. The melody was beautiful, and he quickly got lost within the tale of the ballad. He grasped that the song was about two lovers separated by a vast desert. The girl sung of one lover trying to cross the wasteland, but only making it halfway before collapsing from exhaustion. But when the dying man looked up from the sand, he saw his lover lying next to him; she had tried to cross the desert as well. They died together, embracing in the warm sands that had separated them.
The song died out, and Link was left quietly reveling in the residual spell of the song.
"No, that won't do at all," said one of the men sitting right before the stage. Link shook off his stupor and realized by the man's apron that he must be the innkeeper. "Why would I want all my customers depressed? A happy man be a drinkin' man," he continued. "Unless you got somethin' better, you'd better just cough up some real coin for a room tonight."
Curious to see the girl's reaction, Link looked at her to realize that she was not even paying attention to the older man, but was staring intently at him, a curious look in her eyes. She did not shy away her gaze when Link's met her own either. Their eyes locked for some time, each refusing to back down or look away.
"Well that's that I s'pose," the innkeeper said, breaking the spell.
"Wait," the girl said quickly, bringing her hands back up the harp. "I have a few more."
The next songs were country tunes and simple ditties, but they were upbeat and seemed to please the innkeeper.
"Now that's a sight better!" the man exclaimed. "You've got your room so long as you don't play no more of that stuff from before. This ain't no nobleman's high-to-do."
The girl nodded, seeming almost bored with events.
"Jus' make sure you're in here before supper," the innkeeper finished, standing up and heading back to the bar. Link waited a bit before following him, watching the girl as she packed away her harp into a leather case and dismounted the stage. Her dirtied trousers and too large cloth shirt were hardly what women wore in Hyrule, yet she didn't seem perturbed at all by her situation. Jet black hair hung halfway down her back before being bound with a bit of string, and she was constantly blowing loose strands out of her face. As she left the tavern, Link realized with a shock that she was no young girl. The men's clothes and petit frame adeptly hid a pale young woman with at least a score of years on her. She might actually be pretty underneath all that glowering, Link laughed to himself cynically. She didn't look at him again, but Link got the sinking feeling that he would see more of her before long.
After paying for his room, Link spent the remainder of the evening in the tavern getting drunk and gambling away a good portion of the coin Zelda had given him for the journey. The black-haired girl reappeared after some time and played some simple tunes for the tavern as well, but she gave Link no more odd stares.
For the most part, the tavern was filled with men from the town who came to relax after a day's work in the heat; few travelers ever came through a small town like this. From what Link saw, there were only two others besides him who were just passing through; one was a tradesman on his way to Hyrule castle town with what looked like a collection of cloths to sell, and the other was the girl with the harp.
As the evening wore on, more and more of the townsfolk began drifting home to their families and their wives. It wasn't long before Link was nearly alone in the tavern with the odd girl from earlier. Through his drunken stupor, he barely comprehended that she was looking at him again with the same intent gaze as before.
Link ignored her, turning his chair away from the stage to avoid her stare. After a moment, she continued to play her music, but the tone of her song was different than before, it was deep and rich, the spirit of adventure. With a groan, Link rose and stumbled toward the back of the chamber.
The music shifted tone once more as he neared the stairs. Now the notes softly reverberated against the walls, deep bass throbbed against his chest as the higher notes spiraled around and around in thrilling riffs. It was almost as if…
With a gasp Link saw her. Her beautiful hair, her dazzling smile, her deep brown eyes.
"This is nice," Link said. Together they took off their socks and shoes, dangling their feet in the cool lake water as the sun continued to set. Glancing at Malon, Link was struck by how beautifully the sun reflected off of her long red hair. 'What am I thinking?' he said to himself, quickly turning his gaze back to the lake. After a moment though, his eyes found their way back to Malon, only to find that she was looking at him as well. His striking blue eyes locked with her elegant brown ones for what seemed like an eternity. Link could happily stay like this forever.
As quickly as it had appeared, the memory faded, returning Link to the tavern. Tears ran down his face.
The music! he realized with a start. The music had awakened the memory within him. Spinning around Link saw that the girl had stopped playing and was staring fixedly at him, holding the harp loosely in her hands. He took an involuntary step forward as if to beg her to continue. Malon…
Ignoring his tears, Link spun around again and strode up the stairs to his room. It was time to move on to the next town.