Catch and Release

Link was poised at the ready, as still and steady as a cat waiting for its prey. He was hunched within the concealment of broad leaves that protruded from the base of the large tree at his back. His right foot was set against the trunk while his left found hold against a slightly closer root. His arms came straight down to the mossy ground, a slight bend in his elbows. His rear was raised and he was looking straight ahead. When the moment came, he would explode with speed.

Until then, he dare not move. He took in his surroundings without moving even his eyes. His breathing was controlled and efficient. Sweat trickled down his brow and wet the tips of his sandy blonde hair. His pointed ears were alert as he took in the details of every sound. Stillness was paramount. One twitch and his elusive target would flee before he could pounce. This was the most difficult hunt known in all of Hyrule, and Link was determined to master it.

He started this hunt the day he began his apprenticeship at thirteen years old. During his free hours, he came into this forest every day and tried to do the impossible. No one, as far back as anyone can remember, has caught a fairy. His fifteenth birthday was only weeks away, and he had yet to succeed. Each failure brought greater determination and increased knowledge. It took him several months just to find them in the forest, and now he knew their migratory patterns. Today, a small outfit of fairies would pass right by this spot. He knew they would come from the west, and he knew precisely where they would fly when he struck.

Link was mocked regularly for this ritual by everyone except his father. "Ridicule," explained his dad, "is the language of the fearful. Winners are those unafraid to lose." After his first six months of failure he was tempted to give up, but when he launched to the top of his class he decided to continue the hunt, if only for the physical benefit. Link was an apprentice soldier, training to enter into the king's army, and his daily fairy chase had made him strong, lean, fast and formidable; so much so, he was able to apply for a position in the Royal Guard.

Link reveled at the thought of becoming one of the king's most elite soldiers and living amidst royalty. He had been to Hyrule castle only once; it was there they held the inauguration ceremony for new enlistees. He had seen how well the Royal Guards were treated, and he guessed they were given the most interesting missions. The highlight of his visit, however, was when he saw her for the first time. Lady Zelda waved to them from her balcony, and Link was hopelessly love struck from the start. She looked to be the same age as he was, and she was fairer than all the girls in Ordon Village put together. Link wasn't much of a romantic at heart—he usually was far more interested in action—but she was different. The mere sight of her made his heart pound violently in his chest, and he couldn't begin to explain why.

Link's muscles ached from keeping his runner's stance for the last hour. He had learned two important things about hunting fairies. First, don't move. Ever. About a year ago, a fairy had come unexpectedly close. Link's breathing had slowed ever so slightly, and the fairy was gone in a blink. Since then, Link trained his body to hold this position for as long as he needed. His record was nearly two hours. Anyone else would suffer intense cramping such that, even if they could keep the stance, they would be unable to move afterwards. Not Link. When the time came to launch into a sprint, he could push through the screaming pain until his legs warmed to the run.

The second trick is camouflage. After Link first discovered some popular fairy hangouts, he would lay in waiting. No matter how still he was, they never came. That was when he learned that fairies are smart and cautious, and dirty white trousers are apparently a dead giveaway. So, when the time came for apprentices to choose the color of their trademark tunics, Link's mind was already made up. Other classmates focused on style. Borrix, the big oaf, chose red to intimidate his opponents, and Link liked to tease that it made him a juicy target. Lance chose royal blue to impress the ladies. Link just couldn't understand why some people chose form over function. Link's forest green tunic and brown pants were sure to blend into most of Hyrule's backdrop, which gave him an edge.

The only part of the uniform Link detested at first was the matching elf cap. In the style of traditional Hylian attire, the cap started at the crown of the head and tapered to a point. It was against dress code to wear it more securely around the brow, so the cap frequently fell off, which Link found particularly frustrating when—after a rousing fairy chase—he would spend the next twenty minutes locating it. However, it did not take him long to notice the cap's leaf-like silhouette. Desiring the added camouflage, Link discovered how to hold the cap in place while keeping to the dress code. Link's solution was to cleverly space vertical slits around the hem of the cap through which he threaded locks of hair, then he braided these locks tight. The guys punished him greatly for his new look, but he didn't care. He never again lost his cap. Besides, once the local girls took a liking to it, it suddenly became fashionable.

Three fairies entered into Link's field of view from the west, just as expected, and they stopped across the clearing from him to examine some berries on a nearby shrub. Link studied them carefully.

Hylian fairies are only a couple inches tall with four translucent wings similar to that of a butterfly, and they have human shaped bodies that emit their own colorful glow. Link had learned a few fascinating facts about fairies over the years. One was that they wore clothes made from actual cloth instead of leaves or flower petals as the old illustrations depicted. He once even heard them talk to each other in his own language. While the rest of the world thought of them as insects, Link knew them to be as sophisticated as Hylians, except tinier and faster.

Suffice it to say, Link was secretly the world's foremost expert on fairies. Even so, there were some things he still didn't know. Did they have families? Did they live in little fairy villages? Could they change colors at will?

Using only his peripheral vision, Link watched a blue fairy move further along the bush toward the north, a move that instantly made it Link's target. Link knew that when they scattered, they would instinctively flee to the nearest exit. He felt the two items beneath each of his palms: a net in his left hand, and in his right hand, a thin wooden paddle whose diameter exceeded that of the net's opening.

Link's choice of fairy trap had evolved naturally. He had started out with a bottle, but they were slow and expensive to replace every time he broke them. From there he had moved on to a net, and he had actually netted a fairy once, but to his utter disappointment, it flew right out before he could pinch the net closed. That's when he added the paddle.

With his prey in sight, Link erupted from his hiding spot, and the blue fairy darted northward according to plan. Link was at full speed in just a few steps. His legs tried to fail him, burning with an intense heat, but Link's body quickly submitted to his will and he kept pace with the little sprite as it zigzagged down the natural path. Link hurdled over fallen limbs and cut through tall weeds with ease. After nearly two years of practice, Link could navigate the foliage without loss of speed. He was closing in on the fairy as they approached the edge of the forest. This path, Link knew, opened to a lush grassy hill that led down to a stream. The fairy would fly straight out over the hill and out of reach. Link's window of opportunity was closing fast, so he pushed himself to accelerate a little more.

Looking ahead at the edge of the forest, he saw sunlight reflected off the top of a stone. Its flat top angled slightly toward the hill: the perfect launch pad. Without losing speed, he timed his steps so that his left foot—his strongest—landed perfectly on the stone. In one fluid motion, Link launched himself forward and swung both outstretched arms together until net and paddle met.

He tucked his body in preparation for this tumble down the hill. His right shoulder met the turf first and the world began to spin and bounce. During his descent Link remained vigilante to ensure the net was never crushed between his body and the earth. He knew it was unlikely that he actually caught the fairy, but how disappointing it would be to have finally succeeded, only to have killed it.

Link's journey down the hill ended with him on his back, the heat of the sun beating on his face. His body hurt. His muscles burned. He was totally spent. He could feel the net and paddle lying on his chest, the handles still clutched tightly in his left hand. Lifting his head, Link tentatively opened one eye and peered at the net. Then both eyes widened in disbelief. There she was, a bright red fairy tugging furiously at the netting. How about that. Fairies can change color.

Link opened the door to his house with his foot, careful to keep the net shut tight in both hands where the fairy, still red with rage, was putting up a fight. Link lived with only his father, for his mother had died at birth. His father never remarried, which suited Link fine; he rather enjoyed their bachelor lifestyle. Their modest little home reflected their busy lives, with pots, cups, and clothes strewn about. While Link spent his days training, his father spent weeks away at the king's bidding, which left little time for homemaking. His father was due to return today, though, and Link couldn't wait to show him his prize.

Link rummaged through a shelf and pulled down a large bottle, which he had been saving for this very occasion. When he had first gotten his harebrained idea to catch a fairy, he had optimistically prepared a livable container. He had punched several narrow holes through the cork to ensure proper airflow. Giddy at the thought of actually getting to use it now, he removed the cork with one hand. Then, with careful precision, he pinched the net closed and set down the paddle. He turned the net upside down—keeping it pinched—and pressed it against the bottle's opening. He slowly slid the net downward so it pushed the fairy into the bottle. Link knew he'd never be fast enough to remove the net and cork the bottle, so he just corked the bottle through the netting instead. Then he took a knife and cut away the net's wooden frame; he wouldn't need it anymore anyway.

Mission accomplished. Link sat and looked closely at his petrified little captive. She had turned a purplish shade, perhaps an indication of defeat. It was definitely a she. She had long wavy blue hair and wore what Link could only describe as a kind of summer dress. Were dresses universally feminine, or did fairies observe Hylian culture at a distance? Her wings were nearly translucent, except for the light they refracted, with veins that swirled artfully throughout. Next to Zelda, she was the most beautiful sight Link had ever beheld.

The familiar rumblings of approaching horses rang in Link's ears and he jumped to his feet. Grabbing the bottle, he ran out to meet the returning soldiers. "Father," he called amidst the dismounting men, "I did it! I caught one, Father!"

"Got what?" asked the man next to him. Link turned and saw that was his Uncle Gudric, second in command of the regiment led by Link's father.

"Take a look for yourself," exclaimed Link as he handed him the bottle for examination.

His uncle's jaw dropped in astonishment. "By the Goddesses, ya did it!" Other men gathered around and began congratulated him loudly and pushing each other around to get a look at the fine specimen. Uncle Gudric looked at him proudly and said, "How in the name o' Hyrule did ya manage this?"

"I guess I just got lucky this time."

"Luck's got nothin' to do with it," retorted Uncle Gudric. "Ya said you'd do it, and ya did. Atta boy!"

"Where's father?" asked Link looking around. "He'll be thrilled to see her."

Uncle Gudric's face turned to melancholy and the other men fell instantly into silence. Grotesque realization slowly surfaced as his uncle said simply, "I'm sorry, ma' boy." Link looked from soldier to soldier, as though someone would soon crack a smile and tell him it was all a cruel prank. But no smile came. Instead, the men were kneeling reverently before him one after another. Link's stomach turned and his eyes began to water.

He ripped the bottle from his uncle's hands and fled into the woods.

The forest was his sanctuary. When he needed to vent, the trees listened. When he needed rest, the rocks invited him to sit. When he needed to cry, nature comforted him.

Link was sitting on the forest floor with his back against a large stone, the sounds of his intermittent sobs layered over the sounds of a nearby stream and the swaying trees. After several minutes of crying, Link wiped his eyes with his sleeves and looked at the bottle next to him. He no longer saw triumph in that bottle. Every ounce of success he felt moments ago had been replaced by pounds of grief. He picked up the bottle and watched as the fairy inside grew pensive.

As he watched her, it occurred to him that some other fairy out there must be missing her. Maybe she had a little child of her own who was crying too because she didn't return home. "I'm sorry," said Link to the fairy, and he pulled out the cork. The fairy, unsure of his motives, remained frozen in the bottle. "Go!" cried Link as he set the bottle on the ground several feet in front of him. "You're free! Go!" Sensing escape was now feasible, she shot out through the top of the bottle and disappeared in an instant.

Link's loss was now complete, and he hung his head and wept some more. He was so utterly defeated; he began to think of ending his apprenticeship and never returning home. Maybe he could live in the woods. How much more lonely could it be? He had already lost everything dear to him.

"Hello?"

The voice caught Link by surprise. He picked up his head and looked down the path he had come. People from his village rarely entered the forest and he wondered if his uncle had sent someone looking for him, but he didn't see anyone. He turned his head to look the other way and startled. Directly in front of him was the blue fairy.

"Are you," asked Link incredulously, "talking to me?"

"Yes," replied the fairy.

"Y... You're not afraid of me?"

"I know I should be," replied the fairy, "after everything you've put me through. But I figure, if you were bent on harming me, you wouldn't have let me go. Why did you let me go, anyway?"

"I thought, maybe, someone you love was crying for you. You know, back at your... village... or wherever you live."

"Crying?"

"Yeah," Link responded, "crying. You know, like I was just now."

"You mean, the way you were shaking your shoulders and leaking water from your eyes?"

Link let out an involuntary chuckle. "Yes, that. Haven't you ever cried before?"

"No," she said matter-of-factly. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes," replied Link solemnly, "So, do you have someone back home that's missing you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, do you have a mother or a sister?"

"I have Queen Mother, but she doesn't cry for me," said the fairy.

"Okay," said Link thoughtfully. "What about friends?"

"What is a friend?"

Link never had to answer that before. "A friend is someone special to you, like a sister, except they don't have the same mother as you."

"All fairies have the same mother."

"Ah, okay. Well, do you want to be friends with me then?" asked Link hopefully.

The fairy contemplated this and replied, "What do friends do?"

"They spend time together, they trust each other, and they know each other's name."

"Oh, that's too bad," said the fairy. "I don't know your name."

Link laughed. "That's easy to solve," he said. "My name's Link. What's yours?"

"Navi."

"See? Now all we have to do is spend time together and learn to trust each other. I know that's a lot to ask from someone I just imprisoned, but I promise to never put you back in that bottle."

"I can come and go as I please?" asked Navi, looking for reassurance.

"Absolutely," responded Link. "You have my word."

"Aren't you worried I might leave and never come back?"

"I suppose," said Link. "But that's what makes a friendship so special. Friends choose to stay. So, will you stay?"

Navi thought silently for a few seconds, then fluttered down and landed tentatively on his knee. "We'll see."

Link smiled. "Fair enough," he said. Perhaps things weren't going to be as bad as all that after all.

In the years following his Father's death, Link spent his days training harder than ever and his evenings in the forest with Navi. He found renewed purpose through his unique friendship with her. She taught him how to respect and appreciate nature, and he taught her about the world of the "big people." They became inseparable, which is why she agreed to leave the forest when the time came for him to leave home.

He was seventeen when he was accepted into the Royal Guard, only a few months before his eighteenth birthday. Only a few months before Lady Zelda would be crowned Princess. And only a few months before—in a strange twist of fate—he would become a traitor to the crown.