Chapter 22: Get Over it

…

~~Day 3.

~~I've spent most of the day in bed.

~~Meilont brought Dissal and Lura to visit me. She told them about my wounds, so they were surprised to find out that my catching Doctor Beld's attention was not as clever an act as they first thought. I really don't know what I was thinking! And I think everyone else I talked with today made me have that same thought over and over again. I've more or less promised everyone that I won't do it again, but I'm not sure what I can do if I ever see those guys again. The way I feel now, I probably couldn't even run away. I might just stay here tomorrow; Doctor Beld says I need to take it easy.

…

~~Day 4.

~~I ache all over. Doctor Beld was giving me a thorough examination today, which appears to include pressing down hard on my wounds. I can barely move; I had to ask Meilont to bring this book since I left it on the desk last night. The doctor says that I still have a lot of bruising; his examination proved that even before he told me. I feel like I know exactly where my pain begins and ends. But he also said that I should be well enough to move soon. I wanted to tell him the chances of that were slim thanks to the exam, but I think I've already caused enough problems for him.

~~Something else, too. I dreamed last night that I was back on the Island Sonata while it fell out of the sky. It seems a little blurry now; it's early into the evening right now. I remember seeing the whistle for the ballast tank pop. The fear—I'm amazed I was able to think so clearly back when it happened. Just recalling it now makes me wonder where I had the presence of mind to run to my cabin while the ship fell apart around me. That part, I remembered, too. I know I had Irleen with me; she was asking me why we had run to my cabin. I threw my spare clothes onto the floor under my hammock, and then—I've forgotten again. This whole day, it felt so clear to me that I could almost feel what Irleen was feeling as we dropped. But, I suppose it's a little too late now.

~~Talein brought me a map of the surrounding region. I guess he thought he'd try to help me find home or something. But I couldn't; the map was just too small, and there is no way to tell where Forelight Island is compared to Skyrider Island, not without one of the ship's charts. Judging from what I saw, though, it looks like the Island Sonata came down in an opportune location. If she had fallen from the sky further south, I might not have made it; most of that area is ocean.

…

~~Day 5.

~~I had that dream again. This time, I think I know what happened just before we hit. I'd jumped into the cot with Irleen, and

A knock at the door interrupted Link, ruining all of the concentration he had placed into remembering the dream he had awoken from. He looked over his shoulder, finding Meilont standing in open doorway. She had been wearing one-piece dresses ever since they had first met, so Link was a little surprised to see her wearing a cloth shirt and baggy breeches, both dyed different shades of green. Her hair was tied back in its usual fashion, but her bangs had also been tied back, giving Link an unobstructed view of her forehead. A scabbard hung from her left hip, complete with the leather-wrapped hilt of a sword. She leaned against the doorframe, a grin on her face and her arms crossed as if she expected something from Link.

"How are yeh feelin'?" she asked.

"I'm doing better," Link answered. "I can move again."

"Great!" she said, pushing away from the frame. She waved for him to follow. "Come on."

Link's expression changed to a confounded stare. "Wh-uh… where?"

…

Thunk! Thunk!

Link immediately retreated with a cry of alarm, the wooden abomination nearly rolling him over from the force of the weapon blows on the other side.

"C'mon, Link," Meilont shouted at him, peering around the wooden device. "Yer suppose ta charge me."

Link put a foot against one of the device's bare wheels, using the sole of his shoe as a brake. "I can't even see you," he replied. "I-I don't want to run over you!"

"Yer no' gonna run me over if yeh don' do anythin'," Meilont argued, disappearing from Link's sight again. "Get yerself ready again. An' don' forget the club."

Link sighed, placing one hand on the horizontal pushing beam and the other on the lever for the large, swinging arm attached to the right side. Although Meilont had mentioned that she had wanted to practice, he had not expected to be the target. She had asked him to man and move the wooden mock-up of a Bulblin (which looked to have been drawn on by the village youngsters, if the lack of consistent proportions as well as the squiggly line art were any indication) while she attacked it with a borrowed sword. He did not expect her to strike hard enough to nearly roll the dummy over him. With his own movements a little sluggish from his injuries, he really was not sure if he should be working the contraption anymore.

Meilont gave the crude drawing of a Bulblin a tap with the sword. "C'mon, Link, charge me."

Link gave another sigh and, taking a step forward so he could put as much power into it as he could, shoved the contraption at Meilont. Then, remembering her last direction, he pushed up on the lever.

Thud! "Ow! Liiiiink!"

"Are you—wah!" Link's compassion distracted him from Meilont's counterattack, and the contraption bucked from the blow Meilont delivered with her foot. Link fell backwards, but he quickly put a foot up to catch the contraption before it rolled over him.

"Link!" Meilont cried as she stepped around the target. "Are yeh a'righ'?"

Link could only grunt as he held back the urge to call out in pain. He did not want to scream as he had before; he was quite certain that Doctor Beld would chain him down to the bed for another outburst. Fortunately, it had not hurt him as much to fall, allowing him to keep a mild amount of composure as he rolled and slowly rose again. He drew in a heavy breath, holding it in until the pain resumed its usual background stabs.

Then he sighed with relief. "I'm okay," he told her with a weak smile. "How about you?"

She frowned at him, her empty hand patting the top of her head. "Bi' o' a knot, bu' nothin' so bad. No' even bleedin'."

"Sorry."

Meilont put her hands on her hips, her sword's handle pressed into the fitted waistband of her breeches. "Hey, now," she told him in a tone weaving between insulted and playful, the grin on her face proving more towards the latter. "I may be a girl, bu' I've had me fair share of lumps, too. Migh' even be more 'n yeh've ever had."

"Yeah, maybe," Link replied with a grin. "The last time I got hit in the head, it was with a… hammer…"

His grin faded into a depression, and Meilont watched his eyes fall to the ground. "Wha' is it?"

Link laid back against the ground, his eyes focused on the grey sky above. "I… I was just thinking about…" He pointed. "Things up there."

"Like wha'?"

Link sighed as he started sifting through his memories, looking for examples to give her. His thoughts dwelled on the people whom he had lost. Princess Zelda; Irleen; Line; airmen Leonard, Flower, and Albert; and Captain Koroul and the crew of the Horizon's Eye. His best friend and his first crew, a ruler of the kingdom, people of a newly-discovered race. How would it reflect on him for not only failing to help the Horizon's Eye, but also losing the Sorian librarian? What would Captain Alfonzo do to him for allowing his crew to disappear?

What would happen to Hyrule without the princess?

"I left everything a mess," he finally told Meilont, although with a volume that spoke more to himself than her. "I don't know what I was thinking, but I've just about screwed up in the worst possible way. And now that I'm down here, there's no way that I can fix it all."

He spent a moment in silence before Meilont leaned into the middle of his vision. "Maybe this is how yeh fix i' all."

Link gave her a confused frown. "What do you mean?"

"Think 'bout it," she replied. "If yeh muddled up so bad up in the sky, maybe the universe gave yeh 'nother chance down here with us. Yeh may think yer bein' punished, bu' I think someone out there's lookin' out for yeh."

Link looked away uncomfortably. He thought that she would not be able to say something like that if she knew what had happened. "I wish I could believe that so easily."

"Why no'?" Meilont asked. "Yer new here; we don' know anythin' abou' yeh. Yeh don' have a reason ta dwell on anythin' above." Link did not reply, so she stepped around and knelt down in front of him. And she reached a hand forward. "Don' worry so much."

Link watched her for a moment, seeing a carefree smile behind that helping hand. He admired her determination to not let him drag her into his doldrums, but if she knew what kind of things he had left behind, she might not be as willing to set it aside. Still, he had to do something. So he took her hand, and she helped him back to his feet.

"So, who hit yeh with a hammer?" she asked him as she turned to walk to the front of the target.

Link gave a weak smile and diverted his gaze as he remembered the grand library under the Sorian's great tree. "A friend I made," he replied. "Just before I fell."

"No' much o' a friend ta hit yeh with a hammer," Meilont remarked.

Link shook his head. "It… well, I'm not sure what it was for exactly, but it was something she had to do."

"Can' think o' many reasons ta hit someone on the head," Meilont commented, giving the club-arm of the target an idle smack with the flat of her sword. But before she disappeared from sight, she leaned backwards so she still had eyes on Link. "'Cept maybe ta knock a bi' o' sense inna a certain boy I know."

Link grabbed the contraption again. This time, he managed to move it while Meilont dodged about without kicking it back on top of him. His anxiety eased by her words, Link managed to focus on helping Meilont with training. After a while, he even put himself into it, growling and snarling like a beast as he continued to assail Meilont (although she mentioned that, at best, Bulblins just grunt). Somehow, his whole world just broke itself down into this single moment, almost as if no others existed around them. Just him, her, this wooden abomination, and the grass clearing. All cares gone as if they never existed to begin with. Maybe… Meilont was right, he decided. Maybe falling to the surface was a chance at redemption, although in the eyes of whom could be up for debate for a long time.

Link was not sure how long Meilont wanted to practice. Having spent what felt like a lifetime with her doing just this one thing had given him an interesting perspective on things. How this simple life may just be the sort of thing he needed after a failure as an airship captain. How things like speaking with Meilont and meeting new people could help him forget his troubles. He felt that this exercise had helped him finish his transition to a new life. Through watching her, Link had begun to understand some of the basics to swordplay. And, even further, he believed that he may have helped her improve. After a while, he had begun to spot openings in Meilont's defense and would advance the target until she figured out on her own how to counter it. It had been nothing but silent exchanges, but ones neither of them could mistake for anything else but the want to help.

Meilont eventually collapsed to the ground, chest rising and falling with her frantic breathing, sword dropped into the grass beside her. Link, feeling the same fatigue as her, slowly lowered himself to the ground so that he did not risk provoking his injuries. He sat leaning back on his hands, feet stretched out before him. Not very far away lay the rest of the training grounds, where he had forgotten that tens of adults had taken up practice for the late morning. Or was it afternoon yet. Link glanced up at the sky, but the haze offered no clear answer.

"Mus' be 'bout lunchtime," Meilont commented.

"How can you tell?" Link asked, tilting his head as he continued to look for a hint of the time of day.

"I'm hungry." Link glanced down at her, and she gave him a cheesy smile. "Aren' yeh?"

Link glanced around the grounds again, realizing that a few more people had shown up with baskets of food. "Is that how you tell time here?"

"A'ways the curious one, aren' yeh," Meilont answered as she sat up. "We have clocks, too. Bu' they don' do yeh much good when you can' see 'em."

Link shook his head. "It's just… this place is so different. It throws me a bit."

"No' like yeh won' get used to it. I can' think o' a better place ta be."

"Except for how it is now."

Meilont lost her smile. "Wha', yeh mean the dead trees an' such? Believe it or no', Link, Whittleton has survived fer well over a hundred years. Thin's'll get better."

"But how long have these trees been dying?"

Her gaze fell to the ground as she thought. "Since before I was born, maybe."

Then she delivered a blow to his exposed shoulder. "D'ow!" Link shouted, covering the shoulder with his opposite hand. "What was that for?"

"Yer gettin' me down, Link!" Meilont accused him as she stood. "Yer a'ways mopin' abou' like it'll do yeh good ta think o' thin's that make people depressed!"

"I've—" Link broke off as he tried to stand, his words choked back by the pain in his abdomen. He slowly worked his way to his feet, his breathing picking up for a moment as he fought to keep the throbbing sensation of his injuries from forming into screams of agony. After getting it under control, he said in a calmer voice than he intended to use, "I've just had my life changed, Meilont. I'm constantly trying to adapt to things, but I just can't accept the fact that this village is in trouble."

Meilont's face formed a deep scowl. "An' wha' do yeh plan ta do abou' it?" she asked. She spoke with heat in her voice, having lost the playful edge she had been using up to that point.

Link was taken aback, drawing a step away from her in surprise. "I-I…"

Meilont stared at him for a moment, then broke her mood with a sigh. "It doesn' do much good ta think abou' thin's yeh can' fix," she told him, crossing her arms. "Yeh can only accept 'em. Only."

Link shook his head. "But that's not fair."

Meilont nodded. "Yer right. So wha'? Better ta be somewhere yer wanted, isn' it?"

Link's mouth slacked open. He felt his stomach churning with guilt. Along with maybe a touch of hunger, but definitely mostly guilt. One hand idly raked the hair on the back of his head, and his gaze dropped to the ground. "I-I'm sorry, Meilont. I just…"

Meilont stepped forward. Link braced himself for another punch, hoping she would strike anywhere but his face; it would definitely hurt, although he probably deserved it there most of all. However, he felt her arms gently wrap around him. "I know yeh don' wanna be here, Link," she whispered to him. "Bu' isn' it enough tha' I wan' yeh here?"

Link's face glowed a soft scarlet. His arms rose in a hesitant manner as he wondered if he should return the hug or not.

But Meilont pulled away before he could. She gave him a shy smile, her own face quickly approaching the color of her hair. "Are yeh done mopin' now?"

…

Link could never be done moping, but it would be the last thing he wanted mention to Meilont. For now, he decided to keep his depressing thoughts and questions to himself.

After a quick lunch, Meilont left Link back at the house while she set off to practice more with her bow. Link finished up not long after her. His intentions of returning to his borrowed room gave way to his curiosity, and in only the blink of an eye, he found himself standing at the small cluster of trees behind Talein's house. The tree whose limb had been broken by Dissal's frantic climb to safety succumbed to much more hardship in the past couple of days. Whereas there had only been the single break, that break had sprouted jagged, black fingers of rot which had grown down the trunk of the tree. The broken branch on the ground had nearly been rendered a pile of black ash, slowly disappearing with the frail breeze. This tree was falling apart, and yet the other trees around it, aside from the uncharacteristically bare branches, looked perfectly normal.

Link stepped closer to the nearest, intact tree. Laying a hand over the white stain, he felt that this one was, indeed, hollow as the open one. He could tell when he pushed his hand against the trunk, feeling feeble bark give way while what little wood remained gave an unhealthy crackle. From a distance, it had been hard to tell how sickly these trees had been. The lumberjacks of Whittleton must have done something similar before they marked this small patch.

It troubled him. Although the trees being dead probably meant that his wellbeing among the people of Whittleton was in similar jeopardy, that did not feel like the reason it caused his concern. Somewhere in his gut among the bruising and the soreness that had vexed him these past few days, the subtle churn of intuition spoke to him. It said that this was all wrong, that the world down here should not be like this. Of course, he could not possibly know this from just living here for five days, and that was something he understood. Only a handful of lifetime experience backed his instincts, all of them born of existence above this haze, far in the clouds.

His eyes scanned the horizon above the trees. He saw, towards what he had figured to be west, that the haze somehow looked darker in that direction. Could it be… could it be possible that the haze was terrestrial?

Something sounded in the distance, a deep wail he had never heard before. Link's gaze shifted about until his eyes fell upon smoke towards the south of the town. As he started for it, he dismissed his initial thought that a fire had broken out. The smoke was grey and puffed, like that which tended to come from an airship's steam engine. But… Link found it impossible. From what he understood, there could not be an airship down here. So what was the engine running? His pace picked up as he saw others running towards the source of the steam. A crowd had gathered near the steam, but they appeared more focused on something away from the source. This gave Link ample room to clamber onto a wooden stage which looked to have been built a long time ago, if the warping of its boards were any indication.

What he saw left him in awe. A large, long cylinder, likely the boiler for the whole engine, had been mounted on four sets of wheels, painted a faded black that had chipped away enough to show Link thick steel underneath. The front of the cylinder was capped by a gold, winged form supporting a single triangle bearing the number "17" in a mechanical-looking script. Steam from an idling engine wafted from a wide tube at the top. At the back of the cylinder, a man wearing a blue uniform leaned out of an open cabin space, his face covered in soot.

This man jumped out of the train as he watched Link approach the boiler, revealing his great height. "Ya don' wanna venture too close there," he warned Link as he approached.

"Sorry," Link answered, withdrawing his hand. Still, he looked up and down the black hulk of steel before him. "This is an amazing engine. I've never seen one like this before."

"Ya 'aven'?" the man replied, a confused look on his face. "Goddesses above, 'ave ya never seen a train b'fore?"

Link found his awe replaced by pure delight. "This is a train?"

"Aye, ya can be sure," the man told him. "Ol' Seventeen's the fastest on the tracks, tha' she is."

"Amazing," Link said, lost in his own little world of wonder. "I never expected to see where it came from."

The man's face twisted itself further in confusion. "Yar no' from 'roun' these parts, is ya."

Link shook his head, finally turning to look in the blackened face of this man. "No, I'm not."

"I 'ad a feelin'," he answered with a grin. He held out a hand. "The name's Luggard."

Link offered his hand. "I'm Link."

"Where're ya from?"

Link pointedly glanced up at the sky. "There."

Luggard looked up. "Ah, the sky kingdom, is ya? Wha' is ya doin' down here?"

"It's a long story."

Luggard glanced over his shoulder. "Prob'ly go' plen'y o' time."

Link leaned over to follow his gaze. He watched as the people of Whittleton unpacked a bunch of small crates from some of the cars hooked to the engine. "What is all that?"

"Some supplies from Library Town," Luggard told him. "Been a bit o' a poor spell for all these lumberjacks 'ere, it 'as. Don' thin' it might improve much, either."

"'Library Town'?"

Luggard turned back to Link and nodded. "Where the royal family used t' live. When people moved up t' the sky, there wasn' much use for the cas'le 'cept t' make it a library. Ergo, people jus' call it 'Library Town'."

Link frowned. "Why does Whittleton need so many supplies?"

"They ain' been able t' support themselves very well la'ely," Luggard told him as he led Link back to the cab. "Wha' with all this dead forest 'n all, it's a miracle they've lived for this long, it is."

Link's gaze hovered over his view of Whittleton on this raised platform. Granted, the town appeared to have a gloomy atmosphere, but, somehow, he seemed to have missed all of the ruin that some of the houses had fallen into. Near the platform, a few trees which appeared to be large enough to support families looked to have collapsed some time ago. Grass had given way to bare dirt. And some people wandered about wearing little more than rags for clothes. It felt as if the fortune of living with Talein and Meilont had hidden the true sorrows of Whittleton.

"She smiles so much…"

"Wha'?"

Link shook his head, having not meant to utter that statement. "N-nothing."

Luggard nodded and pointed. "'Ere comes payment now."

Link watched as a number of men carrying bundles of lumber climbed onto the platform down at the end where people still unloaded supplies. "Right, I suppose they would pay with lumber."

"No' t' quota t'day, though. This forest's been gettin' worse 'n worse lately."

"It's the trees dying."

Luggard nodded. "Lack o' sun'll do tha'. Often wondered meself if we jus' ain' doin' enough t' 'elp."

"What do you mean?"

But the engineer just shrugged. "A dumb theory I 'ad 'bou' a year ago."

"What is it?"

Luggard hesitated for a moment, a look of indecision showing through his dark face. "Well… ya know this 'aze is wha' kills the trees, right?"

"Yeah."

"I been travelin' 'roun' on Ol' Seventeen for a good number o' years now. And I thin' I might've seen somethin'." He pointed over Link's head, prompting the younger boy to turn towards the west. "If ya look, the 'aze gets darker tha' way. I been on the other side o' this forest 'ere, 'avin' t' cut through the Snow Realm t' get t' the stations on the other side. From the north, the south looks thicker. From the west, the east looks thicker. Ya see where I'm goin' with this, right?"

Link nodded. "You think the source is to the west of Whittleton."

Luggard nodded, "Smar' guy."

"So if that's where the haze is coming from, why not just go there and try to stop it?"

"Ain' tha' easy, Link. Over in tha' direction's the Lost Woods, tha' is."

Link tilted his head. "The Lost Woods?"

Luggard nodded. "A cursed wood. People been goin' in it for years. If yar lucky, ya come back out same way ya go in. And there's 'posed t' be some 'orrible creatures in those trees, there is. I seen someone been mauled by somethin' with long claws, I 'ad."

"Is there anything in the forest which could cause that? Some kind of monster, maybe?"

Luggard shrugged. "If there is, I ain' one t' find out."

Link looked out towards the front of the locomotive. His eyes followed the tracks into the distance for a moment before he turned back to Luggard. "Does it cost anything to ride?"

"A pretty rupee, a' least. 'Ard t' get any travelin' done these days, wha' with the Bulblins 'n all."

"The Bulblins attack the train?"

Luggard took a step towards the engine. One finger pressed against a silver scratch in the paint. "This ain' a beau'y mark, Link. They attack everythin' tha' moves."

"Luggard!" shouted another man wearing the same, blue uniform as Luggard. Luggard turned as the man, a thicker build than the engineer, signaled to him. "Ge' 'er star'ed."

"Go' it!" was Luggard's reply. He turned back to Link and slapped the young man's shoulder. "Nice t' meet ya, Link. Ever ge' the pence for a ride, jus' remember Ol' Seventeen."

Link nodded as he watched Luggard climb into the cab.

…

~~It's been a long day. I forgot the dream. It's frustrating. So far, these dreams have been causing me nothing but trouble, and I wish I could stop them before I go mad.

~~I've been contemplating the town's situation lately. If Luggard is right, that the haze may be coming from something to the west of Whittleton, then maybe there's something that can be done. I suppose one obstacle stopping me is the forest, the "Lost Woods" as Luggard called them.

~~And I suppose that I'll need some money, too. But if something can be done about the haze, then someone has to do it. Maybe I—

Frantic pounding from below caught Link's attention. He could hear Talein shouting from outside, too. He dropped the quill on the desk and slowly stood.

However, by the time he hauled himself to his full height, Meilont smacked a hand against the doorframe as she leaned in. The sound startled Link, and he caught the wild look about her, the wide eyes, disheveled hair, and heavy breathing that could have only come about if she had been running with all her might.

"W-what's going on?" Link asked, fear tingeing his voice.

Meilont have to catch her breath before responding.

"Link! We're under attack!"