THE CHILD COMES IN THE STARLIGHT
And winter came, and the whitened roofs of Hyrule, and all the trees and uplands. And when Zelda came upon the gardens the world lay open to be new and wondrous to see; for all the shrubbery were swollen thick with snow and the fountains had lain still. Her blue eyes traced the colourless ground abroad. The story of the night before lay in long lines over the fresh snowfall. She saw the hares had frolicked here and there, and the tufted deer had come from the wood; their tracks led over the snow-covered cobblestone pathways and disappeared from sight, as one's heart might grow and shrink with the passages of time. Even the many rodents had left their record on those white downs, where their little footpaths could be followed easily by the untrained eye. But these were not the tracks she wished to behold. She had come here in the evening, to brace the cold of winter, by the very worry for the deku child; and ere the first star shone there seemed nothing in all the night but this bitter cold; and yet Zelda remained, cloaked in her heavy furs and scarlet winter kirtle.
And there Zelda stood starkly red against the black, bracing twilight's chill so she might come upon the deku child once more. And gravely she remained through the hours until the falling snow dwindled and the gleam of Winter's sickle moon cut past the crevices in the clouds above her. She had no light but that of this sickle moon, for she durst not burn a lantern, lest the guards should find her out of bed; and the young moon sank: she had forgotten the time or how much of it had passed. Owls going afield for their nocturnal hunts called out to her from the snow-capped trees of old. Zelda narrowed her gaze so she might view them from the shadows, and spied one as it mimicked a musician's metronome: bands of winter moths to whose glowing eyes the night is luminous fluttered in the darkness, and with the passing hours came other beings of wholly different tribes; she saw their vague shapes in the darkness: she was made to be affright by their otherworldly sounds and her inability to discern what created them: stars that she knew not to be familiar saw her cowering below nearer to the frozen fountain. Zelda abjured the shapes to stop, calling them by names not their own. In this moment the fear of her heart pressed her towards retiring back to the shelter of the castle. For the coming of Winter brought with it the oddities of the demesne.
And then, as a greyness paled the night and made all hopes of respite seem groundless and her long labour absurd, there came about a sudden voice she found herself familiar with.
"What are you doing in our fields?" said the voice.
And the greyness crept forward still, settling itself as a friend would in the shape of a deku child from her memories. And here they were at this late hour gazing at each other, and her regard was fixed on him. There could be no doubt it was the same queer deku of the past. His sombre eyes were not one to go forgotten. And so the princess came forward out of her fright to bid him answer.
"Playing," said Zelda.
"At this late hour," wondered the child, "and in this weather?"
"I am bound to work," said Zelda. "I tend to many duties, and these forbid me from playing in the early bright nor the evening hour."
"Why not?" asked the young deku.
And the princess answered, "It is custom."
The deku child pondered awhile on this but could make nothing of it; because, never having been of royal blood, he knew only one way of life, and so had no means of comparison. So thus were Zelda's own thoughts on this matter.
"Your home bears strange customs," said the deku child.
"Is that so?" asked Zelda.
"It is," answered he.
"Tell me," the princess said, "from whence keeps the home of the deku?"
"To the South," answered the deku, "in the deep of the woods, whither trees at twilight sparkle with faeries."
At these words, Zelda's dull blue eyes might have glimmered as precious jewels and other treasures would. So strong lay the enchantment of the child's words over her, that not only did her eyes sparkle, but an expression of delight for a moment passed over her withered face.
"I should not believe these words," said the princess. "Men say no one lives there."
"Tall tales," said the deku. "Men do not dwell there. Yes, men cannot dwell there; not without a guide."
And Zelda stood straight and said: "Will you take me there? You have a knowledge of the ways of the woods, and the lore of the enchantment, beyond the learning of man."
"What leads you there?" said the deku.
"My blackened heart," said the princess.
For awhile he thought in silence but for his breathing, while Zelda with her entreating gaze stood before him. And at last with the blinking of crestfallen eyes, did the child come to speak in a grave way.
And he said: "It is a terrible journey. The deep of the woods is not a place for man to tread."
"It is far from here," said the young princess.
"Yes," answered he, "it is far."
"Tell me the way," said she.
"You should not go there," said the deku. "It is far beyond the haunts of men. It is not a place to be mapped or understood as the fields you know."
"You will do as I bid," she said. "I am the Princess Zelda of this golden realm whither you have found your stay."
"My lady," said the deku child. "I bid you the honour of a princess."
He bowed all low before this great lady of Hyrule and, with all his regard in a moment lost to Winter's cold night, kneeled on one knee before her esteemed and venerable beauty, and presented the gesture of his kind's reverence.
"You may rise," she said. And in her voice bore then the music of nobility.
So the child stood once more, and gazed at the princess with his sullen eyes. In the darkness they smouldered as two magical spheres of fire would.
"There is a barrier," said the deku, "but the way is shut by the threat of winter."
"I see," she said.
"It is the way of leaves," the child said. "The way of all beauty. To bloom in Summer and shrink in Winter. Such is the hidden barrier of the wood which does the same."
"Therefore, when the warm days are upon us," asked Zelda, "will you take me to this barrier?"
The wind howled terribly and the child stirred little. He again pondered on this bidding, and while beset by this sudden whim she offered outwards a scarlet-covered hand. This hasty gesture astonished the deku child.
"I had lost the hope," he said.
"It is very cold to-night," said Zelda, "and the castle is made warm by the great hearth."
"I am without a home," said the deku, "for the way back is shut, and the flower shrubs are no more."
"I offer you stay in the castle," she said.
"But what of your father?" asked the deku.
And the princess said: "It is no matter."
For a long moment nothing moved there but the air around them and the moon and stars in Space. The young deku stood entrapped by his thoughts, gazing at the scarlet hand of the princess. One owl called out to the night's darkness, another followed. Hunters of the shadows they were. These shadows swelled around the two as the sickle moon passed further down its arching path; and very soon Zelda—nearly shivering with cold, she was—reached further to grasp the deku child's hand by his side. He was shivering too she thought.
Then Zelda pressed on with a new spirit, leading the deku child west toward the Castle of Hyrule. And the garden lay beautiful and barren behind them, without flowers, without colour, with none of those things that would be come the first thaws of the next year, by which we yearn for when they are there no more; like one would yearn for the lifting of Winter's cruel spell. Zelda saw one of those great owls perched on the drystone wall, watching with shining eyes of red the two traversing the snow-covered cobblestone, leaving through it their own track and story of the night as a line. And once they passed, it flapped its wings and rushed away to the south-east; and she saw it vanish into the darkness as if concealed by some magical mist.
But the winter sky was dark and cloudy, and all the world white; and when they came upon the secret passage but only those of the Royal Family knew of, the deku child found himself being guided through a series of winding corridors and rooms that felt strangely familiar (which may only be understood by those who hail from beyond the twilight), for it is true, and Zelda knew, that just as the great mysteries of life astonish the heart, so do life's greater accidents of fate. So there returns from my musings to that of Hyrule again, a place of magic where the Fates of people seem to be written out by the stars they were born under. And this is but a part of the law of the land, where science and logic fall out of all reason; and for a moment, it would be apparent the princess and deku child had been born beneath the same falling star.