Darkness permeates Kakariko Village as Sheik and Midna slip through the shadows. They make their way to her house, lit by a single torch, and quietly enter inside.
Midna removes her cowl, somewhat angrily.
"You're a fool, Sheik," she states.
Sheik untwists his arm wrappings slowly. He peers at her with one eye from the corner of the dim room. "You're the fool to believe Zant," he says slowly.
Midna sighs and walks closer to the other Sheikah. She reaches her hands downward and grasps at Sheik's own, pulling tight.
"You really think this so-called King of Hyrule will lead our land into peace? He cannot be trusted! Zant has said - " Midna is cut off as Sheik interrupts.
"Zant has said many things." He diminishes her thought with a quick wave of his hand.
"Zant is our leader, he will not lead us astray," Midna interjects.
Sheik releases her hands and paces. He goes back and forth across the room, hand under his chin, deep in thought.
He shakes his head. "Have you not seen how he has changed?"
Midna sighs in exasperation, arms shrugging. "How do you mean, Sheik?" she asks, feigning seriousness.
Sheik gestures with his hands, maniacal motions. "He is obsessed with a power he cannot wield! All he does is talk about the Sacred Realm, the Triforce and - "
"We need those things to stop the war!" Midna urges.
Sheik moves quickly to Midna, stopping close to her face. "No. Do you not understand?"
Midna stares at Sheik defiantly, but is unable to continue her anger because Sheik is, ultimately a friend. "I am going with Zant, Sheik. Most of us are. I would suggest you do the same."
Sheik sighs and looks down. He says nothing for a moment, staring off out a nearby window.
He says finally, "I will side with the King and wait for the Hero of Time, even if I do so alone."
"You and your prophecies," Midna teases. She walks towards a nearby table, and lights a lamp. She pauses there, hand resting on the wood. She waits for a moment, letting the fire simmer down between them. She then speaks again, with her back turned towards Sheik.
"Who were you with tonight?"
"A Hylian traveler," he answers after a moment.
"Hmmm.." She taps on the wood slightly. "He knows how to play the lyre..?" she asks, suspiciously.
Sheik sits down on a chair in a fluid movement and leans back, hand raised, fingers brushing against his lips. "It appears so," he answers.
Silence.
"Do you have an interest in him?" she presses, carefully.
"Should I?" he asks.
"He's very handsome.." she mentions. "Not that it would mean anything to you, of course." She peers at him, eyes searching, not fulling turning her head.
Sheik only stares from the dimness of the corner.
Midna looks over to him, and even though they are acquaintances, she still feels unnerved by Sheik at times. His aesthetic reminds her of a spider: eyes always watching, lithe but unbelievably strong, wise beyond compare.. a hunter in the dark. She always is suspicious that he is more trained - more skilled - than he lets on.
"I hear, he is staying here, for a time.." she continues, watching Sheik's reactions.
"I know," he responds from the darkness.
"And you do not find that a little odd - a Hylian finding comfort in the village of the Sheikah?" Midna presses.
Sheik leans forward. "Perhaps he does not fear us, like most who live in this land. Perhaps he finds comfort here where outcasts find solace, his judgment unclouded, opinions unswayed."
Midna tilts her head and eyes focus somewhere on the floor. "Do you believe he is not from here?"
"Oh no.. I do believe that he is," Sheik says softly.
And as Midna ponders this she gets a feeling, that there is something about to happen, something very profound. Something that has laid a seed in her gut, that will only continue to grow.
Link rotates his sword back against his left wrist, twirling it around, before slicing it through a makeshift target next to the armory. The impact sends jolts throughout his muscles and in that moment he feels a tiny sliver of happiness, for he can feel and fight, and even better so as an adult.
The Master Sword is quite large and very heavy, but he lifts it and wields it with ease. He stands there, making fast slicing motions through the air, and wonders why he feels no fatigue. He convinces himself then that all adults must have an untapped amount of strength, for he woke with it.
He notices a bow set out for practice, a rather large one, in fact. He is intrigued to try it, for as a child he knew only his boomerang and slingshot.
He picks up the bow with his right hand, grabs some arrows, and sets off to some targets nearby.
He stands, a little nervous, eyeing the target. He brings up the bow, loads an arrow with his left hand, readies the shot, and breathes. Squinting an eye he aims for the bullseye, pulls, and..
The arrow shoots through the air and lands, dead center.
Link stands in surprise. He scratches his head for a moment, ponders a bit, and readies the bow once more. This time, he decides to see how fast he can load the arrow and shoot consecutively without aiming for long.
He aims quickly, and releases mere seconds later.
In all of his concentration, he didn't notice the Sheikah man casually leaning against a nearby tree. Sheik walks to the target and pulls the arrows from the bullseye. He touches the holes made in the target with his fingertip, studying. "Not bad," he remarks.
He walks over to Link, handing him the used arrows.
Link takes them and laughs softly at himself. "I've never used a bow before."
Sheik looks at him for a moment. "Is that so?"
"Well, I have used other ranged weapons before but.. a bow like this, never." He holds the bow out, admiring it. "Hello Sheik, by the way." Link looks at him only for a second, before turning his attention back to the bow. A welcomed distraction.
"Hm," Sheik acknowledges, nodding slightly. He watches Link nervously toy with the weapon.
A few other Sheikah walk by, talking amongst themselves, peering at the two, disapprovingly. Sheik meets their hesitant gazes and narrows his eyes. Ignoring it, he turns again towards Link.
"Link," he continues, breaking the silence, "what about a Sheikah weapon?"
"A Sheikah weapon?" Link repeats, questioningly.
"These," Sheik says as he hands Link a few sharp items, "are throwing needles." He closes Link's fingers around them with his own. "I'm curious.. to see you try them."
Link reopens his hand, and stares at the shiny, yet dangerous objects. He looks at Sheik in dismay. "How exactly do I use them?"
"Aim," Sheik starts with his own needle in hand, "and throw." He lets go of the needle quickly, and the needle shoots into the bullseye. He looks back at Link, watching silently. He gave no more information.
Link takes a deep breath, and readies a needle of his own, aiming for the bullseye. "Here goes."
He throws, straight and true, and the needle lands beside Sheik's.
"How.." Link starts, trailing off in wonderment.
Sheik walks to the target, removing the needles, and walks up to Link before tucking them back away in his suit. He looks at Link in the eyes, pupils narrowing, following.
"Perhaps you were trained in the use of these, and do not recall it," Sheik trails.
Link stares at Sheik, wheels turning in his brain. The suggestion is odd, and it gives Link a most uncanny feeling, one which arises a nagging sensation in the depths of his subconscious. It is too hard to ignore, this feeling of surreal déjà vu.
"Sheik do I know you?" Link asks quickly, abruptly. "Have we met before?" His eyes are blue and alive with light and there is a flicker of something that dances across them.
Sheik seems surprised.
"Does it seem that we have?" Sheik answers, his gaze unwavering. A light visible there in his irises, something akin to a flicker of hope.
"I.. I'm sorry. I just had this strange sensation." He leans on a low wall beside him. "We only just met and since then I..." He stops for a moment and looks around the village, glancing at other Sheikah going about their daily routines. He speaks softer. "I mean, I am in a place unknown to me, yet I feel.." Link leaves his sentence unfinished, unsure of what he means to say. Unsure of what he is really feeling, altogether.
Sheik laughs soft and low, and leans beside him, keeping somewhat of a distance. "You feel.." he repeats, trailing off into thought, the words seeming to trigger a specific memory.
Link looks to his left and tilts his head as he looks at the Sheikah, mouth open as if to speak.
"I say that a lot, I suppose," he soon admits, folding his arms across his chest as he squints his eyes a bit in the sunlight, a breeze rustling his hair and his collar. He seems to regret speaking so openly, and brings up his defenses. "But feelings.. are dangerous," he adds. He looks around for a moment, unsure of where that saying had come from. It was unlike him.
Sheik stares off into the lightly cloudy sky and says softly, "Yes... they can be." His body tilts a little towards Link as he leans in a bit, and makes eye contact. "Most Sheikah believe that mind should always remain separate from the heart, for if the two collide it begins a series of unfaltering events." His eyes continue gazing straight through Link's soul. "It is interesting you believe the same."
"I do not know if I do, exactly. It is as if it were taught to me, long ago." Link stops and then laughs at himself, color rising to his cheeks. "Silly, actually. I do not think I could ever stop myself from feeling entirely." Link finds himself rambling to someone he hardly knows, and realizes this. "I apologize. You must have far more important things to do than listen to me carry on like this." He smiles, shrugging, and then returning his arms to their folded position across his chest. He kicks at some small rocks on the ground with his boot.
"There are some things, that are far too powerful to be ignored, and fighting the feeling for them can be an unwinnable battle," Sheik adds. "It can drive one to insanity."
Link smiles a bit. "So you are a Sheikah that can both fight and feel?"
"I never said that."
"Ah but I think you did," Link says.
"You are right," Sheik starts, getting up from the low wall, "I do have far more important things to do." And with that he begins walking away, raising his right hand, waving a quick goodbye to the hero, dismissively.
Link remains leaning, watching the Sheikah disappear behind the armory, confused as to the sudden mood-swings the Sheikah provokes out from him. Wondering whatever gave him the notion, to tease another man.
The sun sets below Death Mountain as Link enters through the door. The room inside is dark, lit only by a series of candles placed along its interior, a long, decorated but tattered rug scaling its path, revealing a long hallway. He walks slowly, hearing the flickering of the flames and his soft footsteps against the fabric.
He reaches another door, and tries the handle. The doors are quite large and sealed from this entry point. He thinks for a moment, and begins to turn around.
"What are you doing here?" a voice asks.
"I seek audience with your leader," Link responds to the darkness.
Midna reveals herself from the shadows, stepping carefully, untangling herself almost as if it lives and breathes around her. She walks towards Link, and begins circling him, like he is prey to a hungry animal.
"Who are you?" she asks inquisitively.
He follows her with his eyes, head turning left and right as she continues roaming around him. "I am not important. I only have some questions -"
"If you are not important, then why do you have questions of such brevity?" she interrupts.
The woman makes him feel tongue-tied, and he thinks of how to respond to her questions without raising suspicion to his identity.
"I think," she continues, "you are someone of importance."
I think," she walks closer and stops inches from his face, "you hide here to conceal yourself and your true identity, and somehow you believe that we Sheikah will not -"
"You think too much," Link cuts in.
Midna smiles and raises her head back delicately to laugh quietly. She places her hands on her hips. "Cute," she remarks. "Funny and attractive. How intriguing."
Link narrows his eyes and folds his arms across his chest. "Can you let me in?" he asks, losing his patience. "Please?"
"Oh.. I don't know.." she trails, raising intonation. "You ask so nicely."
"Yes, I can be a nice guy, if not pushed to my limits."
She brings a hand to his arm, and brushes her fingertips across his bicep, a whisper of a touch. "Limits," she begins and looks into his eyes, "are only an invitation to see how far they reach before breaking."
"Don't touch me."
"Oh," she brings a finger to her lips. "And feisty too."
Link stands and remains stoic.
"Okay.." she relinquishes, "have at it." And the doors somehow open, creaking, with Midna stepping to the side, ushering him in with a slight motion of her hand. Link sighs audibly and silently he praises the Goddesses.
She stands still, smiling, as Link walks forward, passing her into the room beyond. She follows then quietly, shutting the doors carefully behind them.
The interior seems to stretch beyond what light can illuminate, and Links walks on cautiously, eyes roaming to the ceiling and darkened areas cautiously. There are many columns supporting the architecture of the large room, and the same rug from before leads on to the distance, where a rustic yet elegant chair sits lonely atop a raised platform.
'Shadow..' he thinks as the darkness creeps upon him, engulfs him. 'It lives with them.'
Finally he makes it to the large steps before the throne, and he waits.
A figure is seated upon it, motionless. Embroidered fabric drapes the form, the sleeves long and flowing, reaching well past the fingertips. Contrary to the other Sheikah in the village, only the figure's mouth is visible, the rest covered by an elaborate headpiece. There are eyes carved onto it, and they stare unblinking, creating an unsettling aesthetic.
"So you are the traveler who takes his stay in our village?" The voice is not loud but its presence echoes throughout the chamber. "May I ask why you came here, and why you seek me out?" Threatening, no, but unsettling, just the same.
Link bows slightly, head lowering in respect. "I was told to see you, by the fairies who reside with the Great Deku Tree in the Kokiri Forest." He peers up.
"The Kokiri Forest," the man seated starts, punctuating, "so you may enter there and leave as you please? For I have heard," he breathes, "that any being who passes into that sanctuary may not ever see the outside world again."
Link remains silent, waiting, listening.
"You lost someone dear to you recently. I feel its sadness within you," the man states.
Link looks to the side, his lips firmer and set tight.
"Ah. Yet I sense it was a surprising set of events, those which were not meant to be experienced." The man sits up then, straighter, something dawning on him. "Events before your time, perhaps?"
Link's face tilting downwards, he looks up at the man, staring up through his lashes. He experiences a tingling sensation inside his head, like fingers looking through the drawers of his brain.
"You possess a skill, a skill which bends time to your will," the man thinks aloud. "And here you stand before me, dressed in green of the forest, eyes of the sky, sword on your back." He stops for a moment. "I must say, you really do look like the Hero of Time, but unfortunately for you...
"...It is not your time at all." The man gazes at Link from his throne, and leans back against it once again.
Link feels an urge then to grab for his sword, feelings of urgency and violation, but he resists.
"And what name do you go by then, so we may speak as familiars?" Link asks.
The man looks fleetingly alarmed, as his ponderings are affirmed. Link suddenly feels nervous, as if he shouldn't be there, at all.
"I am Zant, leader of the Sheikah," he states, "and you, Hero of Time.." he continues, "are early."
Link takes a deep breath. "That is why I am here."
"And you would like me to return you home?"
Link narrows his eyes and shuts his fingers tight into a fist. "Yes. I have a destiny I must fulfill. There is no other way. You - you foresee it, I know that you can."
Zant shuts his eyes, bringing his fingers to his mouth in thought. "Yes, however.." he pauses, "that will require a great amount of strength and a great amount of sorcery to achieve. And the question is," he opens his eyes, "why should I do that for you?"
Link outstretches his palms, motioning for understanding. "Because you believe in the fate the Goddesses have foretold," he urges.
Zant sits tall, hands lowering to his lap. "And what if I do not?" His eyes scour Link's form, assaulting him.
Link steps back. "You.. walk your own path.." Not a question, but a curious realization, just the same.
"We all must forge our own path, allies.. enemies.. we are all the same. Individuals focused on a purpose, a means to an end. Unfortunately.. not all agree on those means.." Zant trails.
Link then feels the heat of the dragon's lair, the sensation of unwanted fingers creeping down his neck; the truth of where he now stands - not in the company of a friend - but in the company of one who would side with the Evil King, during his own time. Yes, this is a different time, yet danger lurks no matter where or when, you are.
Zant however is not an utterly cruel man, not at this point anyway, and he tells Link that he will ponder the situation and offer a solution. And while Link feels relief to hear this, the plans are not whole-hearted. For Zant is not a generous soul, and the only decisions he feels inclinations to make, are ones that are for his benefit alone.
Link dashes out of Zant's chamber, and once outside he stands for a moment, the cold air and the subtle moonlight encapsulating him. He takes a deep breath and tilts his head upwards to the sky, shoulders slumping, eyes gazing at the stars. He notices a rooftop, low enough to reach from his point on the multi-layered levels of the village, and he has a strong urge to climb atop it, to be closer to the twinkling lights so far in the distance above.
He reaches the center of the roof and sits, legs folded, arms relaxed in his lap. The breeze rustles through his hair and he closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of freedom brushing its wisps across his skin.
The village is very still, no sound except for insects chirping and the wind cutting every so often throughout the air. Link brings his head downwards then, staring at the rooftop and fiddling with his fingers. His conversation with Zant made him feel uneasy. Here he is, sent by the fairies to right the wrongs that has entered his life, yet in that moment he wonders, is there any help to be had? As a child Link had encountered many evil beings, and he knew only by one's presence its level of potential malevolence. He had felt that with Zant. It worries him now, that the Sheikah of Kakakiro Village may not be the answer, and he ponders sneaking out, aided by the darkness the night brings. But where would he go?
Link sighs, wishing for guidance; wishing for even his fairy to be here to perpetually nag at him. Even that would be a blessing.
He thinks then about his short stay at the village, and how none of the Sheikah besides one even acknowledges his existence among them. Most have turned a wary eye, not speaking nor looking; disapproving. He knew from meeting Impa back in the courtyard of Hyrule Castle when he was a child, that Sheikah were not the friendliest sort. And Link did not blame them for their cautiousness. Yet he figures the Sheikah are quite intelligent, and how they can not sense his good intent is beyond comprehension to him.
The one however, Sheik.. he has been the only one to notice his existence, going so far as even making light conversation and seeking Link's company out. He figures Sheik must be younger than most of the Sheikah who reside here. But is he innocent, naïve? No, hardly. Sheik looks upon him with a wisdom that far surpasses what Link can comprehend. Not only that, when Sheik makes eye contact, it's like he is peering into Link's subconscious. It is not a terrifying feeling, no.. and when he tries to pinpoint exactly what kind of feeling it is, the only answer he receives is a tingling up his thigh to his groin, which in response Link grabs his stomach, almost as if in pain.
He thinks of the Sheikah, and tries to understand him, the foreign feelings he projects; his mystery. He recalls asking Sheik if they had met before.' Stupid question', he says to himself and shakes his head. He feels drawn to him, but how could that even be? Whenever he finds himself around Sheik, he feels trust... he feels good. He is no stranger. And that is so very odd indeed, and it begins to raise questions within him that he doesn't know how to answer.
He mentally kicks himself for thinking about trivial matters when such larger ones are at stake.
"The stars have many stories to tell."
Speak of the devil.
Link looks up from his deep-in-thought stupor. Anxiety pools inside his stomach and his heart begins to race. "Sheik," he says and pats the space beside him. "Sit with me?"
Sheik says nothing, and stares for a moment at Link and the available spot beside him. How intensely he thinks then about such a small physical decision. He takes a deep breath, nods to himself as if making an agreement internally, and saunters slowly over, gracefully sitting beside the other man.
Neither speak at first, the silence both comforting and nerve-wracking.
Finally, Sheik says softly, "Do you wish to be alone?"
Link sighs deeply. "No," he says finally, along with an exhale.
Sheik gazes up at the sky. "Most Sheikah believe that the closer you are to the goddesses in the world above," he motions with a slight gesture to the stars," the closer you are to eternal wisdom and power... and courage," He brings his hand down, and rests it with the other behind him, leaning casually. "I do not suppose that is why you are here?" He turns his head left, and gazes at the hero.
Link chuckles softly.
"No.." Sheik continues, "you are already the bearer of one. Who needs all three?"
Link turns toward the Sheikah, eyes large and questioning.
Sheik outstretches a palm to hush Link. "It is fine, " he begins, "I know your secret."
"What will you do?" Link asks nervously.
"Nothing."
"Does anyone else know?"
"Only myself... and Zant, whom you just spoke to, as I understand." Sheik says this and glances at Link, his eyes radiating apologetic and filled with uncertainty.
Link shakes his head. "I was told to come here, to seek him out."
Sheik leans closer. "Perhaps Zant is not who they meant." His eyes penetrate.
"Sheik.." Link begins, his heart mustering the courage to continue, "tell me you do not know me. Tell me you have never seen me, nor spoke with me before." His eyes plead. He feels like a fool for going at this again.
Sheik winces, fighting something back internally. "Is that what you wish to hear?"
"No, I.." Link tries, "cannot stop feeling like we have met before." He reaches involuntarily.
Sheik looks at Link's hand and sighs, standing. "Us Sheikah have many qualities, Link," he lifts his right hand. "These qualities vary from Sheikah to Sheikah. Some obtain prowess in physical magic," he musters a black spark interlaced in his fingers, "others, supernatural physical ability," he crouches low, somehow closer to Link than before, "while a few, can leave this world, to the next," and Sheik touches Link, then disappears from sight.
Link focuses so much on the spot left tingling from the Sheikah's touch, that he hardly realizes the man has disappeared entirely. "Sheik?", he calls out.
Silence at first, and then..
"The graveyard," Link hears, Sheik's voice in his mind.
Link does not quite believe it, but he jumps off the rooftop, regains his footing, and jogs through the narrow opening of stone to the Kakariko Village graveyard not too far beyond.
Rain begins to fall as he cautiously enters, the smell of fresh wet earth and grass permeating his senses. He realizes then, that many of the graves he noticed as a child in the village, were empty; no plot nor headstone to speak of.
He hears a lyre in the distance, plucking notes barely audible through the pouring of rain. And then he spots Sheik by one of the only headstones, the largest, standing. He plays a song, that hurts Link's head. The pain is so great, so immense, that he grabs his temples and the bridge of his nose and applies pressure, willing it to cease. Yet with that pain, also a strong sensation, and he takes his ocarina. While squinting both from the wetness of the deluge and the unbearable mind-numbing headache, he lifts the instrument to his lips.
"A nocturne that draws you into the infinite darkness. A nocturne that absorbs even time.." Sheik speaks.
Link trudges forward, until he nears the Sheikah. "I know this song!" he yells through the rain and thunder. He shields his eyes.
"Then play it with me," Sheik also says loudly for Link to hear.
And Link falls to the ground then, on his knees before Sheik, ocarina to his lips; soaking from the rain.. and plays. It's as if his body is reacting separate from his mind.
He follows the melody, tears forming but unbeknownst, for they fell and mixed with the stream falling from the sky. And Sheik walks up to Link, standing while the hero still crouches to the ground, and waits.
Link finishes the last note, places his ocarina to the soil, and reaches out, hands running the length of the Sheikah's thighs. He feels, pressing hard, searching for an answer that evades his mind. Sheik stands still, letting the hero run his fingers along the wetness of his suit; he feels and rubs and oh the eagerness of these touches! Sheik bends over, grabs the back of Link's head with his right hand, and lifts him up, mere centimeters from his own face. Link's lips are moist and open slightly with uneasy shortened breaths. Sheik aligns his own, nothing but self-control and a piece of fabric creating a barrier between each others' mouths. He pulls his cowl down quickly from his face, and it hangs loosely across his neck. Link's eyes focus on Sheik's exposed lips and he puffs, his breath warm in the dampness of the downpour, and Sheik does this as well, fighting for his own breath. Their eyes interlock, expressions unreadable. Sheik continues his firm hold along Link's hat, grabbing hair as well, in between his fingers - Link trapped in a visual position of pain and.. something else.
"Hero of Time.." Sheik breathes, unsteady. So close.
Link grabs ahold of Sheik's forearm, which remains positioned still, hand yet keeping him bound in place. He grips tightly, squeezing. His expression, slightly frightened.
"Shei.." Link breathes, "Sheikah.."
And Sheik peers into his eyes and says, "I told you to learn to let go.." Remember.
Link's eyes tremble, confused.
"I don't.. I don't understand..." he trails. He looks for answers in the Sheikah man's eyes.
Sheik grips tighter. "Yes, you do." He shakes Link harmlessly. He repeats louder, "Yes you do!" Frustration, rain pouring down his face.
Link shakes his head, dripping blonde locks of hair sticking to his eyelashes and skin. He cries. "I haven't a clue about anything!" he starts, hand trailing up, gripping at Sheik's bicep, squeezing. "I do not know why I am here, I do not know how to get back.. Sheik.. I -" he drops as Sheik loosens his grip, and brings his head pressed to the other man's stomach, resting it there, his left arm wrapping around Sheik's lower backside.
Sheik pauses for a moment, letting the hero bury his head. His hand lifts, almost to rest on Link's hair, but stops himself. Instead, he lowers to his knees and lifts Link's face up with his hands. He looks into his eyes. "You are in danger, Link." He says this slowly, properly. He stares deep into Link's irises. "You are in danger and we need to get you out of here."
Many thanks to those who reviewed the first chapter, and thank you to those who may be stumbling across this for the first time. Constructive feedback or just a hello is always appreciated. I love hearing from you.