CHAPTER 3

Link took a quick draught from his water-skin – which, he happened to notice, was running low – and gave the rest to Epona, who gulped it down appreciatively. The only semi-local freshwater source that he could think of was the river that practically cut Ikana in half, but that was at least a day's journey away and he simply couldn't afford to wait that long for a refill.

Thank the Golden Goddesses, he had the Ocarina of Time – the single most precious treasure that Hyrule and her royal house had ever known. The mystical transverse ocarina could perform a plethora of miracles, depending on the songs played, and he momentarily lamented his stupidity in letting Skull Kid – no matter how little Skull Kid could've helped himself – get his lanky hands on it. In stealing the ocarina, the imp might as well have stolen a piece of Link himself.

But no amount of self-blame – or was this self-pity? He could scarcely tell – would bring him any closer to reuniting with his old fairy friend, and he knew it. He'd gotten the ocarina back. Surely, he could content himself with that?

Looking around to ensure that he and Epona were alone, Link carefully removed the ocarina from the belt-bag that he'd fashioned expressly for the magical instrument (lest it should be damaged during his travels), then – just as carefully – removed the textile that he'd wrapped around it. The sacred vessel-flute, with its ten perfectly-tuned holes and its mouthpiece emblazoned with the mark of the Triforce, glistened warmly in the mid-morning light. He calmly raised the mouthpiece to his eleven-year-old lips and, with a single deep breath, tapped the tone-holes with his fingers.

The Song of Storms – a melancholy melody with the power to bring much-needed rain, no matter where Link happened to be, and send it away again – emerged from the instrument, and a soothing drizzle pattered against his youthful face while he played the last note or three. Not ten seconds later, as he began to re-wrap the ocarina in its cloth, the drizzle became a steady shower. By the time that he'd returned the ocarina to its designated belt-bag, the shower had transformed into a massive downpour.

Perfect.

Casually removing his belt, boots and Kokiri tunic, he promptly scrubbed as much filth and grime from his body and hair as his arms' length would let him – then, rather than continue to weather the storm in his undergarments, he donned a clean tunic and proceeded to scrub the muck from his boots and Kokiri tunic. The ocean-blue Zora tunic that he presently wore would protect him from the barely-lukewarm rain (lest he should become hypothermic), and it would also allow him to breathe underwater. Not that he even needed such an enchantment in the middle of a dense forest, with no large bodies of water in sight – but it was better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it. . . . . . . . .right?

Hanging his nearly-clean Kokiri tunic on a nearby tree-branch for rinsing, he placed six bottles on a nearby rock to catch the rain-water. Once the rain-storm passed, he'd use them to replenish the supply in his water-skin.

In the meantime, it was Epona's turn to be bathed. Fetching a horse-brush from his saddle-bag, he proceeded to brush the mare's coat, gradually cleansing her with the rain-water that gently weaved its way through the bristles. His mind began to wander while his hands continued this task, and he found himself thinking about his Zora tunic. He'd worn such a tunic before, of course – but that was seven years into the future. His body wasn't eighteen anymore, and his old Zora tunic no longer fit him properly.

Fortunately, he happened to have passed through Zora's Domain just before he arrived in Termina – though, it now occurred to him, he hadn't thought to ask about Navi's whereabouts while he was there – and the Zora princess, Ruto, had bestowed his current Zora tunic upon him.

Ruto. . . . . . . . .