As always, it's great to hear you're all still enjoying!
Glad you were finally able to read the chapter, Mimi! I hope it works better this week. Thank you so much; that's such a great compliment! =D
Chapter 67: Behind the Familiar
Father Kaeber's lyrics stowed securely in his pouch, Link hurried across the southern bridge to Skyloft. He hadn't left for the surface until after noon, and after the hours spent flying to the gap in the clouds and back, together with however long he'd actually spent on the surface – or in the bath – it was already late in the day, but he hoped, if he was quick, he could make it to at least one of the windmills with enough time for himself and Fi to study it.
He knew which ones Headmaster Gaepora had been talking about, of course: everyone did. Among the oldest unaltered buildings in Skyloft, it was widely said that the twin windmills, one on either side of the island, had always been there. Built with an archaic elegance that only the oldest buildings could match, they turned year in and year out, always facing into the wind, always spinning gently, almost silently but for the sound of the wind winding around them and the gentle swish of the tips of their graceful sails. They had been there forever, almost forgotten in their sheer permanence: if one fell off the side of the island, it would be nearly as shocking and unnatural as if the moon had dropped out of the sky, or the Goddess Statue vanished from her place watching over the goddess' people.
The nearer windmill was the western one, south of the Academy and northeast of the plaza and the Light Tower. Link's shadow stretched out beside him as he walked, the sun sinking low on the western horizon. The broad avenue he walked along ran parallel to the south-western edge of Skyloft, terraces of houses with carefully kept roof gardens facing onto it, lining the bottom of Market Hill. Well-tended trees grew alongside it at intervals, mostly on the skyward side. Big and sturdy enough to climb, Link had always thought they were huge… but after the forest that grew on the surface, they seemed stunted and twisted, gnarled old trunks short and squat compared to those below. He slowed briefly as he passed one, looking up into its low-hanging branches. The tree itself hadn't changed, and yet…
Shaking his head, he moved on, nodding politely or exchanging the occasional "good evening" with people he passed, stopping for none of them. The windmill seemed to rise before him as he neared it, the subtle downward slope of the avenue deceptive, its slender sails shaped almost like birds' wings turning slowly in the wind. Perhaps twice his own height across at the base, it tapered gently as it rose before flaring slightly again at the top where the sails were anchored, capped with a pointed dome. A hatch, rather than a door, marked its side, and Link doubted there was space inside it to do more than sit awkwardly. On the short cylindrical section of the upper bulge a shield-shaped dark blue panel reflected the sinking sunlight, while elsewhere the primarily zigzag decorative patterns had clearly been painted a variety of colours over the years: the paint was chipped in places, and below the present-day's blue Link could see a hint of green, of red, of another shade of blue…
"Can you sense anything here, Fi?"
Analysing, Master. There was a brief pause before she spoke again, and Link imagined he could feel her attention focused on the windmill, assessing it from bottom to top in a way he never could. Yes. I have updated my assessment of the probability that this windmill is relevant to you to 98%. The design and construction is consistent with that found in the Lanayru Desert, other than some material substitutions of negligible relevance. The windmill is a sophisticated electrical generator designed to turn toward the prevailing winds and require extremely low maintenance. However, there are additional mechanisms within the structure that are not necessary for, nor directly relevant to, its primary function. The reflective panels near the top of the windmill conceal optical emitters capable of transmitting complex signals. These panels are capable of rotating independently of the rest of the system, with a control mechanism located within the windmill itself. You will need to access the windmill in order to reorient the panels.
"All right!" Whatever moving the panels would do, that there was some part of the windmill that didn't seem to have anything to do with its purpose was enough for Link to feel that he had to be on the right track. He stepped closer, studying the hatch. While there were no obvious bolts or latches, there was a recessed handle and a keyhole near the bottom, covered by a little flap, presumably to keep the rain out.
I detect that the lock on this hatch may be opened either manually, using a key, or electronically, using a transmitted signal. I am capable of transmitting such a signal. Do you wish me to open the hatch?
Just like the doors in the desert, Link thought. "Please, Fi. Thank you."
He heard a click from within the hatch, and slid his fingers into the recessed handle, experimentally pulling upwards and outwards. Rather than opening on a hinge, it slid upwards into the windmill, more smoothly than he had quite expected, revealing a cramped, dark space within. Thick wires snaked down the back wall, while panels on left and right had been added to with what looked like paper notes, tied to various places with string. The string-attached notes looked so incongruous in the cramped interior that Link blinked, then, without thinking, crawled inside to read them.
'Press the button on the left under the screen to turn it on. The label has rubbed off.
Original note written in the 479th year of the sky. Last rewritten 940 YS. If you turn it on it will show you how well the windmill is doing. See Note 25 to the right.'
His jaw dropped as he looked through them, each dated with a year since Skyloft's raising, almost all painstakingly copied from other notes, stretching back centuries into the past. Some were simple; others were laborious, multi-stage series of instructions.
"Wow…"
It is apparent that the engineers who have worked on this windmill have noted the inefficiency of the oral tradition. I speculate that, due to the rarity of maintenance events, and the fact that this space is typically hermetically sealed, successive engineers have determined that leaving physical notes in the location to be maintained is more efficient than requiring student engineers to memorise all related knowledge.
"I guess so." Something about the collection of notes was almost touching, tips and instructions for the engineers' successors passed down through generations after generations. How many people had written or copied a note not even knowing who would read it after them? As Fi's stories had, it made the history of Skyloft seem real, rather than simply the way the world had always been… and it made the existence of the same ancient technology he had seen in the desert real and immediate, not just something from far away, but something that had always existed, that had been there silently turning for him to walk past without noticing most weeks since he'd entered the Academy.
"I never thought…"
He felt the infinitesimal pause that was Fi considering her response.
The generation of electricity did not feature notably in your education at the Knight Academy, and it is apparent that it is not widely studied upon Skyloft. There was no reason for you to.
"No… But how much else is like that here? There seems to be so much that none of us gave any thought to. If I hadn't had to do all this, I probably would never even have thought of the windmill except as a landmark. But people have been working on it and keeping it alive all this time." Link blew out a breath, setting several notes fluttering on their strings. "How much more is there, Fi?"
That is unknown at this time, Master Link. However, if you seek a more obvious example, consider that rock does not naturally float.
"Rock does not…" Of course rock didn't float. If he threw a pebble into the river, it would fall through the air, hit the water, and sink to the bottom. If the side of the island crumbled, the rock and everything on it would most likely fall into the clouds below. And…
His mental perspective shifted, almost dizzying. He'd been on the surface, land stretching away in every direction as endless as the sky, making Skyloft look small by comparison. Rock does not naturally float, but Skyloft did, and always had; Spindrift did; all the other islands did, and it was just a simple everyday fact – until it wasn't, because rocks did not naturally float, rocks had never naturally floated, and again he remembered Fi relating how the goddess in all her might and glory had torn the islands from the surface and raised them into the sky, there to stay above the clouds and keep her people safe, held forever with her power. Not a legend but reality, one that had endured for a thousand years.
"Fi…" Link whispered.
The glow of the sword over his shoulder brightened slightly, though there was no room for Fi to appear in the cramped space.
Yes, Master Link?
"It's so much."
The sword itself made a sound, somewhere between Fi's whistling chime and a faint, tuning-fork hum. Link wondered if she was trying to comfort him, finding another way to demonstrate her presence since she couldn't hover beside him the way she had more and more as their travels went on. Whether she was or not, the thought that she might be trying to help warmed his heart, somehow making the immensity of it all more manageable once again.
Why did the goddess choose me? The question hovered in his mind, but he pushed it aside. He wasn't sure how much more immensity he could handle dealing with, from the sudden strangeness of familiar Skyloft to the shadow of apocalypse that lurked below.
"How do I rotate the panels?" he asked instead. "I don't see anything about that in any of the notes here." Perhaps, if he turned around to look at the other set- but Fi forestalled that thought with her response.
No information about the rotating panels is present upon any of these notes. I detect that the controls that operate the panels are located on a secondary control panel that can only be accessed by releasing a catch on the side of the panel behind you and lifting it at the right-hand end. It appears that these controls were deliberately concealed when the windmill was constructed, further increasing my estimate of the probability that this was intended for you to discover.
Link tried not to think too hard about that as he squirmed around in the cramped space. The other panel looked much like the first, similarly adorned with notes, although there was no large screen on it as there had been on the other. He could feel Fi drawing his attention to the narrow gap between its edge and the back wall, and slipped the fingers of his right hand into the hole. They fit with room to spare, and as he felt around, he felt a mid-sized catch beneath them. Encouraged by the confirmation, he pressed it, and both heard and felt it flick into a new position. The right-hand side of the panel lifted slightly, and, gripping it, Link gently, carefully, pulled it upwards, swinging it up on a hinge at its left-hand end just enough to reveal a second, smaller panel amidst a nest of wires beneath. It would only rise to an angle of thirty degrees or so, but it was enough to let him – however awkwardly – peer in.
The second panel held a circular shape with a mark in it and a compass rose at the centre, oriented to point due north. Three buttons, and only three, were arranged around it: two below and one to the right. Each one bore a dusty label in archaic text:
'ROTATE
LEFT RIGHT'
'LOCK/UNLOCK'
"I guess… unlock?" Link whispered. Fi didn't contradict him, and, mentally asking the goddess' favour, he pressed the button.
There was a faint series of clunks from somewhere above.
Master, I can confirm that the panels in the shape of a shield have reconfigured themselves into two visually separate components.
"I hope that means it's unlocked. And I guess I can move them right or left… where should I point them?" Link withdrew his hand, reaching into his pouch for Father Kaeber's folded lyrics, squinting at them in the dim light.
"Finds sibling sails that catch the wind and shows them both the way, a bright tower a beacon…" he read out, still whispering. "The way to what? The Light Tower, maybe?" What direction is that in…? He knew roughly – southeast – but how accurately would he have to rotate the windmill's strange panels? "I'll try it, but… Fi, can you tell me when it's pointing the right way?"
Yes, Master. Link felt her attention shift, as if she were looking up to the top of the windmill. Tucking the lyrics safely away again, he made the symbol of the goddess for luck, and pressed down on the 'RIGHT' button.
From somewhere above there was a clanking, followed by the slow and squeaky rattling of some strange machinery being very reluctantly forced into motion. The marker in the compass ring began to move counterclockwise, slowly rotating around from the west, to the south, to the south-east. Link released the button, hesitated, pressed it again briefly. Again.
Master, the panels are now oriented directly towards the Light Tower. I recommend engaging the locking mechanism.
"Got it." Link pressed the lock button again, and another series of faint clunks followed. Moments later, he felt Fi register something happening, so that he knew almost before she spoke.
The panels have reconfigured into the shield shape you previously observed. The optical emitters are active and drawing power from the windmill to transmit a repeating signal to the Light Tower.
"We did it!" Excited or not, Link still remembered to press the raised panel back into place, locking it with the hidden catch, its various notes swaying on their strings at the motion. "Thanks, Fi. I couldn't have done it without you."
As he twisted again and scrambled backwards out of the windmill, he heard her reply.
You are welcome, Master.
Just enough time to look at a windmill! And to be slightly mindblown by how real history actually is, and the immensity of it all. Sometimes the everyday is only everyday because you just don't think about it.
Patch Notes
- Pointless windmill continues to have a purpose.
- It is now possible to turn the relevant segment of the windmill rather than the entire thing, which would rather impede its use as a windmill depending on the current wind direction.
- Shield design and light made critical part of Light-Tower-related functionality instead of "game signal you got the puzzle right".
- Windmill no longer turned by blatantly hand-crankable mechanism. Any future broken parts will not be obviously replaceable by a hand crank.
- Plot elements unused in game now utilised here to explain windmill functionality.