The first thing John saw when he woke up was a pair of enormous pink eyes grinning down at him. "Rose?" he muttered. The girl leaned back and touched her hair, also pink. "It's more generic pink with a little silver in it for body, but I like a man who knows his shades." It wasn't Rose, but if Rose dyed her hair and made it turn up at the end like an old-timey model, and had eyes a shade lighter, and actually smiled instead of just giving little evil half-grins, then this girl would look exactly like her. "I'm Roxy," she said, pulling John up to a sitting position and shaking his hand enthusiastically. "You must be Jade's brother! She told us all about you," she explained.

"You know Jade?" John asked, confused.

Roxy nodded. "We were cellmates in the Forsake Fortress. I just got away last night. I wish I coulda taken the others…" she said, wistfully.

"It's okay," John said. "If you got out without help, it'll be that much easier to get them out with help." He looked around. They were in a boat, a long, sleek sailboat that might require at least two people to operate. It was very, very pink. The boat was moored in a sort of cave or grotto, a high, triangular shelf of stone help up by wave-carved pillars. It was grey outside, and looked like rain. "So, you saved me?" he asked tentatively.

Roxy nodded. "Found you drifting in the ocean, looking mostly dead. But mostly dead," she said with a roguish grin, "means slightly alive. A little shadow-based magic and you were good as new. But it wasn't just me though."

"I thought so," John replied. "Where's the other person?"

Roxy snickered, running her fingers through her hair. "Don't freak out too much—"

Suddenly, the figurehead of the ship turned; the wooden stem somehow as sinuous and flexible as a swan's neck, and it said, "hello!" John flipped the fuck out. "What the fuck is that!?"

"The Princess of Pink Tentacats," Roxy said smartly. "I'm Jaspers," said the figurehead. It was some kind of large cat, with a tall conical hat and a series of dangling tentacles where its whiskers should be. They twitched eerily, and it mewled.

"The figurehead talks? Is it cursed?" John asked, reaching for his hammer. "Should I kill it?"

"I'm not a figurehead, I'm a boat," said Jaspers, in a helpful tone. The rudder began to swish excitedly and the boat rocked from side to side. "Me and Roxy helped each other escape from the fortress. Then we found you. Something told me you'd be important. Are you the new Hero?" Her…his?—Roxy had called it Jaspers but it had a masculine voice—its voice was very soft and childlike, like it didn't quite know what it was talking about, or it did know, but not how to express it in words.

John decided it wasn't hostile. "I don't think I am," John said slowly, taking his hand off his hammer.

"That's too bad," Jaspers mewled. "But I'm supposed to pave the way for the Hero. Maybe you can help me?"

"Can you help me get my sister back?" John asked. "If you do, I'll do anything you ask, I swear."

Jaspers meowed in the affirmative. "But," it paused, sounding unsure, "I think our two goals might just overlap. Because the Lord of the fortress is our enemy."

"Of course he is," John said with a look of determination. He remembered the burning colors of the Lord's eyes, filled with baseless hate. "I don't know what he did to you, but he took my sister and he's been taking girls from everywhere—"

Jaspers shook its head, closing its eyes as if entering a trance. "Not just you and me. He is the enemy of all of us. Everything in the land, the sky and the ocean. He would kill everything if he could, even strangle the heartbeat of creation and lock the void into a single unceasing moment, and he hates that he can't. It pounds in his ears every instant like a thousand cannon blasts and every breath that is taken is like a thorn in his eye. His name is Caliborn."

Hearing that alien word filled John with an inexplicable sense of physical dread and disgust, shivering its way across his body. It was a fitting name for the creature in the tower. "The same Caliborn," Jaspers went on, "who claimed the golden power for himself and fought the Knight in Hyrule, drowning the land in darkness. He has returned and grows stronger with every passing moment, calling all evil to him from the corners of the globe, awakening the old gods who had passed away. You will not be fighting for yourself or me or your sister, but for everything, everywhere, for all of time. Will you still help me?"

Voice shaking, Roxy spoke up for the first time in a while, cheerful mood gone. "How do you know all of this?"

Jaspers blinked, shaking its head and opening its eyes, looking around as if confused. It smiled. "I don't know how I know! I'm just a boat!" John and Roxy both nearly fell over.

Trying to keep a straight face, John agreed to his heroic undertaking. "Okay, I'm sure this is supposed to be solemn," he said, drawing his hammer, holding the butt of the weapon between his pals as he knelt. "How'd it go again?" he thought, trying to remember. He breathed deeply and stared down at the hull for a second before continuing. "I vow to protect the weak and defenseless, to safeguard the helpless and do no wrong. I will be without fear in the face of my enemies, and brave and upright that the Goddesses may love me."

Jaspers meowed contentedly. "That's the best thing a man can say!" Without ceremony, the figure head turned towards the ocean. "To the Great Sea! To adventure!" With a determined expression, John sat down at the rear and grabbed hold of the tiller. Roxy let out a whoop and struck an impressive pose at the front of the ship, grabbing hold of Jaspers's neck and shouted, "Let's kick that omnicidal fucker in the shame globes!"

…Nothing happened. "Um," John asked, raising his hand. "Jaspers?"

The boat mewled in confirmation. "Shouldn't we…set sail?"

The figurehead nodded. "You should get right on that!"

There was an audible smack as Roxy smashed her forehead on Jaspers's neck. "I'm so stupid! Sorry John, I forgot to tell you, The Princess of Pink Tentacats doesn't have a sail."

John felt a sinking feeling. "Where are we right now?"

"Windfall Island!" Jaspers aid contentedly.

The sinking feeling became more of a plunging feeling. "That's clear across the Great Sea from the Fortress! We…we did it without a sail?!"

Jaspers nodded happily. Roxy followed suite, looking miserable. "How long has it been?" John asked as the plunging feeling transformed into an orbital-dropping feeling.

With a very forced smile, Roxy said, "just a week!"

The feeling evolved to its final stage by actually making John fall over. Roxy shook him with one hand. "There there Johnny, Jade still has twenty-two days before they take her to the top of the tower and she's never seen again!"

"How the fuck am I going to save my sister," John said, regaining coherency, "and…the whole fucking universe too why not? With a boat that doesn't even have a sail?"

"Don't be stupid," said Roxy. "We'll buy one!" She reached underneath a bench and pulled out a sack. It was filled to the brim with rupees.

Windfall Island was dense with people. The small, rocky island, nearly bare of trees, was home to the largest population of all the islands on the Great Sea. With nearly two thousand people, it was one of the largest cities in the world. It had been built in the early days of recorded history, soon after the sea had finished expanding and the land settled, perhaps even during the cataclysm itself. There were few traces of the Hylian civilization here, but for the great gate, inscribed with the blocky, complex runes of the sacred tongue. It was impressive, but there was no need for it; most of the city had been built up on the rocky crags, a natural barrier against attack. There wasn't even a wall.

The buildings were tightly packed, growing vertically rather than horizontally, each home a peaked tower hung with pennants and ancient lichen. The oldest were of ancient white stone, found nowhere else on the island, cut into smooth cubes and engraved with delicate whorls. The newer buildings, those built in the last few centuries that is, were made of wood and brick. Looming high above everything, the massive windmill spun its sails slowly and majestically in the breeze, easily three times taller than the tallest building. Up on its hill, the city looked like a castle John had seen in a storybook once. There were precious few castles left.

Walking out from the shadow of the grotto, the two children made their way towards the gate. Most of the island was pasture for the pig-herders; it was much easier to keep pigs out on the great sea than other animals that might require more food and care. The main export here was pork, but the real backbone of the city was trade. Tall ships from the distant west were moored in Windfall's port, rubbing metaphorical shoulders with rib-sailed junks from Chosen and proud steamers from the republic of Calatia. Windfall was equidistant from everywhere. The marketplace of the world. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to run around, looking at shops, befriending locals, or simply gawk at the metropolitan crush of people, but Jaspers had warned them not to play around. Roxy grinned and grabbed John's hand. "C'mon, let's go play around!"

The first thing she did was buy herself some new clothes. This took merely one hour, but John felt that he had lost at least five years off his life. He tried not to begrudge her of course; she'd been wearing the same thing for a month. "How do I look Johnny?" she asked, posing for him as she stepped out of the changing room. She was wearing a long, tastefully embroidered blue tunic, a dark blue hood and matching tights, some black calfskin boots with short but pronounced heels, and matching fingerless gloves. John wasn't looking. "Like a proud Sheikah warrior who is also fabulous?"

In an uncaring monotone, John replied, "yes. No. Maybe. Too green? I don't know. If you like it that's fine."

Roxy pouted. "I just need a domino mask to complete the look. Then I would be so badass, like you have no idea."

"Wait," said John, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "You're Sheikah?"

"Duh," said Roxy, rolling her eyes. "With my complexion and my eyes and my ears, what the hell else would I be? A troll? Why would you even say that?"

"Don't you guys run around wearing black and assassinating lords and stuff?" he asked, confused. "How'd you manage to get captured?"

Roxy blew a raspberry. "Oh suddenly you're interested! I thought you islanders all ran around eating dogs and communicated in clicks and whistles, but you clearly don't, so obviously stereotypes are wrong. We can't have an entire ethnic group composed of ninja assassins. You," she said, jabbing at John's chest with her finger, making him shrink back as if it were a dagger, "are a racist." She stormed out of the shop. Then she stormed back in and plopped a purple rupee down on the counter. "I'm taking this!" she snapped at the shopkeeper, who nodded hurriedly, before storming back out again.

John ran after her. "Shit, okay, I'm sorry, that was bad of me and—"

She turned around and beamed at him. "It's okay," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "An apology, that's all I wanted. Besides," she leaned in conspiratorially, "on a bright night in the big open spaces of Chosen, black just stands out against the moonlight. Dark blue, that's the color you want." She winked a big pink eye and backed away. Grinning uncertainly, John followed.

A thought occurred to John. "So, most people who look like you are Sheikah?" he called after her.

Roxy giggled. "Yes John, that's what an ethnic group means, a buncha people who look alike."

"But there's not that many of you right?" John asked. "I mean…did you ever hear of a guy who took his baby brother way far south? Like, a really expert swordsman, or master smith?"

Roxy shook her head. "Can't say I have. I remember some pampered war-prince running away a few years ago, but that's it."

"How old is he?" John asked, excited.

"He'd be about sixteen now," Roxy said, entirely uncaring that she had just ruined John's hopes of finding out more about sensei's past. Roxy suddenly gasped and ran off towards a stall. John hurried after. "Did you find a sail?" he asked, excited.

"Better!" announced, turning around and showing him what she'd found. John stopped just in time to avoid impaling himself on the knife. Dull grey iron, single-edged, very simple design. "It's perfect for throwing," Roxy explained. She turned back towards the merchant. "Can I get like twenty of these?" she asked, playing with a strand of her hair and grinning coquettishly. Within a few minutes, she had purchased the lot for a song.

"What do you need so many knives for?" John asked as she sequestered them about her person.

Roxy shrugged. "There's a million-and-one situations you might need a knife, especially when you're out on an adventure!"

John laughed. "You're on an adventure too?"

"That was a joke right?" she asked sharply. "Why would I even go through the trouble of matching with you if I wasn't going to help?" It took John a second to realize they were both wearing blue. "We're like, a team now," Roxy announced.

Carefully, John said, "I guess it'll be useful having a…not-ninja assassin aboard."

Roxy gave a stiff nod. "Now," she said, affecting an air of mystery, "would you like to be inducted into the dark and mysterious ways of the Sheikah?"

John thought for a moment. Then he nodded. Roxy smiled. "Okay," she said, grabbing his hand again, "let's go get your ears pierced!"

"What!?"

It had hurt like a bastard and bled everywhere, and now John had a dark bluish-purple ring stuck in his left ear, which was already beginning to swell. The white fur had been stained an ugly brown around the wound. "How did you even get me to do this? Did you use your evil shadow-based magicks on me? You did, didn't you!?"

Roxy laughed. "Just shut up and drink your mocha!" John frowned and took a sip. It was good. "Nah," she continued, assuming a posture of repose, "It was just my feminine wiles," she winked. John wasn't sure he liked her doing that. She really was very pretty…. He looked away. They were in a small café on the second floor of some building. It was out of the way and gave off an aura of exclusivity. Tastefully decorated with pottery and creeping plants, it smelled deliciously of coffee and baked goods. The café was full of sailors at the moment, but not the rowdy kind; this place didn't even serve alcohol. "How much money have we got left?" John asked, still not quite looking at Roxy but more in her general direction.

She produced her bag—John was unsure where she kept it—and rummaged around. "Well, after my clothes, my knives, getting your ears done, and the café, we are at about…"she moved a finger a few times, as if counting. "Seven rupees."

John sighed. "That's not nearly enough for a sail, is it?"

A new voice spoke out now. "Assuming that two young people such as yourself will have a small boat between them, a new sail will generally run you about eighty rupees." It was a tall troll in a red cloak. His hood was drawn over his face, but his horns stuck out through the flaps at the top. They were short and nubby.

"Hi Karkat!" John announced.

The troll growled. "I'm not Karkat. Listen to me. You are Sheikah, yes?"

John started to shake his head, but Roxy kicked him under the table and mouthed that he should play along. He started nodding his head. "Then you should be willing to accept a job for me. There is a man who has been unjustly imprisoned, a purple-blooded troll. You will release him."

"Oh is that all?" Roxy asked flippantly. "That's nothing for us. We've got mad prison breaking skills. Isn't that right?" She winked again. John colored a little and nodded, trying to look tough instead of confused.

"Good," said the troll, dumping a bagful of rupees onto the table. "You'll get the rest once the job is done." And he stalked out of the café.

"Well that was certainly lucky," said John tentatively, "but why did he think I was a Sheikah?"

Roxy pointed at her left ear, which had a similar earring to the one that had been brutally stabbed through John's. "Stuff like this is just going to keep happening, isn't it?" John asked. Roxy smiled and nodded.

Author's Note: (Cockney accent) Bit short, innit? Ah well, next chapter'll be a long bugger to compensate. I'm kippin' off for a week, later mates.

If this were a game, then John getting his ear pierced would be one of those decisions that affect the kinds of quests you get. The earring thing itself is based on the Zelda manga, where Link's earrings a sign of Sheikah training.

I really want to convey two things that are only touched upon in the game. The unity between land, earth and sky is a recurring theme in Japanese media, including this game, especially with the introduction of the Rito (a race of fliers who live in a volcano in the middle of the ocean). Second, Hyrule is portrayed as something of an Atlantis myth, but really, towards the end of the game it starts to sink in that it's much more of a POST-APOCALYPSE. I'll touch upon a bit later.

*Ahem* Roxy joined your party! A very capable ranged fighter, she uses throwing knives and Sheikah magic. Her puzzle solving skills are better than John's, when sober. Hearts: 2. Magic: 10. Can JUMP. Attack power doubles when DRUNK.