Chapter 87: What Lays Within the Fog?

The mist did not hang in the air, stagnant and dreary as the natural weather. Instead, it churned and swirled in on itself, pulsing and collapsing as though it meant to grow and consume, but broke upon some unseen barrier. Zelda had studied it during their travels to the village, at least when she was not distracted by the music or the endless chatter of the deranged imp Link kept with him. There was another mystery she would like to study if only she had the time. But for now, it was the fog that compelled her.

It was the single most complex spell she had ever seen. A delicate balance kept it in check. It called out to consume the minds of all that drew near it, and it sought to spread toward them feasting on their thoughts and desires and using what it learned to lure its prey deeper into its dark. Father Rauru once told her that spells have personalities, the light spell felt joy that it could bring light together, an illusion delighted in mischief. But this? This was hunger and anger manifest.

Or, it would be, were it not for the other half of the spell. Bound within the same confines of the enchantment that permeated every yard of darkness that clung to the woods, an equally strong need to guard and isolate kept the spell in check. That was its beauty. One half sought to destroy the other to protect. But what was its center, its focus? Something had to bear the markings of the enchantment.

One would assume it guarded the village or the path, but that was incorrect. A rock at the far edge of the clearing had a spell of warding etched into it. When the fog drew close, it furled back on itself. Those wards explained the village, but what kept this clearing free from the mist?

She sighed and sat on a stump in the center of the glade. As she stretched out, trying to relax a noise coming from the village roused her. A lanky blond girl approached carrying a wicker basket nearly as big as her torso.

Link ran to her. "Any news?" he asked before taking the basket from the child.

"Not yet," the child squinted up at him. "This is for you. To eat."

"Thank you."

"They're not poisonous."

"I didn't think they were." Link reached into the basket and pulled out a mushroom before popping it into his mouth. "Thanks."

She looked him up and down, her frown growing before she turned around and returned the way she came.

Zelda rolled off the trunk onto her feet and went to Link. "You know her?"

"I know all of them," he pulled out another mushroom. "Skull Kid, do you want some?"

"Bleughh, no. White tops are disgusting."

"There are others."

The imp skipped closer. "Do they have the orange one that looks angry? I like that one."

Link rummaged through the basket before he handed Skull Kid a crinkled mushroom. "This one?"

"That's it! Give it here." Link tossed it into the air, and Skull Kid leaped, catching it while he laughed. Then he bolted behind the stump to eat. He did not like showing the face beneath the mask. Not unless he was making rude faces at people. A vile little creature that seemed to delight in annoying others, but Link enjoyed his company for some reason.

Link shook the basket roughly in her direction. "You hungry?"

"Not if they are poisonous. The children of the forest do not desire our presence."

"They're safe," Link took another from the basket and bit into it. He chewed as he spoke. "You don't need to worry about Fado. She's harmless," he paused and frowned. "Mostly."

"That's not reassuring."

"No," he thankfully swallowed. "I mean, she won't harm us, but she used to go just to the edge of the village and stare at the people in the fog when they came close. The fairies all told her not to, but she liked watching them. I always found them creepy."

Zelda took one of the mushrooms and bit into it. To her surprise, it was far better than the fair she'd been subjugated to on their travels. Whoever prepared the meal had done a fine job. It was savory and warm, seasoned with spices that Zelda could not recognize. When she finished the first, he had another. Perhaps I could get this Fado to teach Link how to prepare the wild mushrooms he finds. Link tried his best, and was certainly a better cook than she, but one could only eat unseasoned fast-cooked vegetables for so long before wanting something more.

"So, this is your home," Zelda said after she wiped her mouth clean. "How does it feel returning after all this time?"

Link frowned and looked back toward the ward and the village that lay somewhere behind it. "This isn't home, not really. I've only been here once when Saria…" The frown deepened. "It's strange, is all. Everyone is so small. Fado used to be taller than me."

"You must be happy to see them again."

"I thought I would be. But - I don't know. They don't recognize me."

"It's been seven years, and you've grown."

"Skull Kid knew me." He looked to his friend, who had finished his meal and had told his fairy companions to watch him perform cartwheels around the grass.

"It may not be fair to judge others based on what that child understands."

Link grinned at that. "He's a strange one."

"That's one way to describe him." Along with rude, boorish, and devious. But it would do little good to express her opinions on the matter. Link liked and for some reason trusted the ill-mannered imp and his protectors, and for now Zelda would do the same. But she would keep an eye on him. He was no enemy, that much was clear. But she already had one companion whose wits she did not wholly trust. Should another join their company stupidity and shortsightedness may reign over the entire venture.

"So," Link began, "where did you grow up?"

"Somewhere far from here," she said.

"Not Kakariko?"

"No."

"I thought all Sheikah came from there."

"Many do, well, many who proclaim themselves Sheikah. But the people of the eye have small enclaves scattered about Hyrule. But we all know, when troubles come one can always find refuge in Kakariko."

"And troubles came for you?"

"Yes."

"Do you ever want to go back?"

"I have. But it is never the same as when you left it."

Link took her hand and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Then you understand."

Zelda nodded but pulled her hand free. It was unlikely he'd notice anything wrong with the illusion only by touching her hand, not with the thickness masked by her gloves. But why risk exposure?

Behind him, several lights glowed through the darkness. Fairies and that child, Mido, entered the glade. He stood at the edge of the clearing with his hands on his hips, his chest puffed out.

"Navi says we can trust you, so we're going to trust you for now. You can rest here for the night, and we'll provide you with food."

"We already got food," Skull Kid called.

"What?"

"The girl with hair like grass stains came and gave us mushrooms." He pointed toward the now empty bucket.

"Fado," Mido stomped his foot. "No one was supposed to come here until we made certain you weren't dangerous!"

"You can't blame her for being a good host," the fairy over Mido's shoulder said.

"Oh yes, I can." He turned and walked back into the fog, tossing a final, "Stay here until daybreak," over his shoulder before he disappeared into the gloom.

"What a pleasant child," Zelda muttered.

"Mido was always like that," Link said.

"Be kind," Navi said. "He's trying his best."

"What did he have to say?" Link asked, clearly trying to change the conversation away from this Mido.

"Saria's been gone for years," Navi spoke slow, tense. She was trying to ease into something.

"How long ago? What happened?" Link, however, rushed. Could he not read the strain in her voice? No, of course, he didn't.

Navi sighed. "One day, she said she was speaking with you, that you were close and needed her help. The fairies kept her from going out searching for you, but then that night she slipped away."

For perhaps the first time since Zelda had met the boy, Link stopped moving. Not even a finger fidgeted or toe tapped. His face went pale. "Seven years ago?" He squeaked.

"They didn't give an exact year, only that it wasn't long after we left."

But that was not what Link needed to hear. "It was me," he whispered, then walked away from them clutching at his hair.

"Link," Navi began following him.

"Wait," Zelda said. There would be time to comfort him after she had her information.

"What?" the fairy fluttered toward her, while her flight swayed her closer to Link by inches as he began to pace around the clearing.

"This place. Where are we?"

"Is this important?"

Of course, it's important, I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't. "I won't know until you answer my questions. Where we stand isn't behind the barriers of the village, and it doesn't appear to be on the path you led us through. And yet the fog does not enter here. Why?"

"It is the complexities of magic, the enchantment on these woods does not always manifest as one would expect."

"Be that as it may, that doesn't explain why this spot specifically is free from the curse."

"Are you familiar with the intricacies of spellcraft?" There, in her tone, the bite of mistrust. That was new, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say the intensity was new. The fairy preferred Link's company, as she should. But she faced everything else along the path with suspicion. It had taken weeks for Navi to trust her, or at least, trust Sheik. Somehow that work had been reversed. Why?

"I'm a quick study."

"It could be many things, perhaps there are similar holes throughout the Woods."

A lie. It was difficult to tell when she couldn't see the fairy's face for her light. But it still rang false and rushed. "What others?"

"Perhaps other magic dwelled here. Now please, I must see to Link." She flew away fast after the boy.

Zelda frowned. That had some notion of truth to it. It had not escaped her notice, despite the attack of Mido and the twisting of the path to reach here, that this was the spot that called to her. There was something important hidden here.

She returned to the tree trunk and looked over the terrain once more. The Skull Kid offered to play games with Link, some misguided attempt to lighten his mood. But Link only responded in anger. Ignore them, the people were taking up too much of her attention.

She closed her eyes, forced the sound of the people away, and listened to nature. The hoots of owls and the rustling of leaves surrounded them. Hooves clopped against the ground, insects scuttled, and she even heard the panting that sounded like a wolf somewhere in the dark. But, the noises did not surround them. Ahead, where the village lay, she only heard the muffled whispers of far-off voices, occasionally punctuated with the cluck of a cuckoo. But behind her, there was silence.

There needed to be something. Animals swarm wherever nature allows them. She focused all her attention on that empty silence, straining for anything, a click of an insect's mandibles, the hiss of a snake. But no sound came to her.

What would that mean? What lay in the dark that would scare away animals?

The fairy must know, and yet she hides it. Why? Fear? Guilt? Shame? Anger? All motivations that could cause someone to feign ignorance. But simply listing them out wouldn't help Zelda discover anything.

She opened her eyes and spun around to look at that side of the glade. The barrier of fog was straight as a castle wall, though some leaves poked out of the dark. One decayed tree trunk covered in moss and dirt stood at its edge, with the back quarter disappearing within the twisting black. The rest of the glade looked just as one would expect a glade to look. Tall wild grass that reached well past her ankles, ants marching across the ground, beetles and bees buzzing near a patch of flowers. Nothing of importance or interest until it reached the stump on which Zelda sat.

There had to be something. A part of her wanted to cast a spell of light and burn through the dark, revealing whatever secrets lay behind. But then she would never again get them to believe she was the simple Sheik. Patience, the true greatest tool of a Needle and mage alike.

If only she'd studied plants and nature. But as a child, the nearest she her tutors explained was the amount of water required for the peasants to cultivate their crops, and which seasons grow fruits and vegetables. The knowledge of tending to woods and learning why an opening free from trees would appear in a forest was something for foresters and huntmasters. No matter how she studied or what she learned, her journey always required more from her. Was that what Nayru meant by the difficulty of her path? That there was no limit to wisdom, that the pursuit of the correct knowledge would be forever out of her reach?

She sighed and laid down on the stump.

"Is there something wrong?" A voice came above her.

Zelda looked around until she saw the purple fairy floating above her. "Oh, nothing."

"Not one to place your burdens on others," he said as he lowered himself closer to her. "I like to think I'm the same."

"Or, I could just not have burdens."

The fairy laughed. "Everyone has burdens. Back when I knew her, Navi was always the one rushing to and fro to help all the children and every visitor. Always trying to make everything right. Under normal circumstances, I'd leave you to her. But I think she's occupied at the moment."

Link still looked grim and pale, but now calmed enough to sit in the grass with Skull Kid across from him. Navi and Tatl over their heads. They were forming some plan to search for Saria through the fog.

"You don't think that will work, do you?"

"No," Tael said. "If Saria disappeared in the fog years ago, then she is lost for good. Someday, my sister, Skull Kid, and I will come upon her transformed into a haunting ghoul in the forest. And when we do, I will make certain to put old Saria to rest. But they are not ready to hear that. So I will keep it to myself."

"You already have that planned out?"

"I've thought of little else since I heard she was missing. That and wondering who else this old curse will take."

"Perhaps you could help me with something," Zelda sat up. "How much do you know about this place?"

"Precious little, I should think. I haven't been here in over a hundred years."

"But you have been here."

"Yes, I suppose."

"What did it look like one hundred years ago?"

"The grass was better tended. And there used to be people, such people would come and ask for favors or training. This whole forest was alive then, fairies and Hylians and Gorons. Even a Moblin once came begging for knowledge. I think he was the one that cut down the tree you're sitting on. Ahh, and the beehive. There was a hive over there." Tael sent a whisp of wind to blow a patch of grass. "Yes, there used to be honey we-"

"Wait," Zelda stood up and looked over the stump. "This was here a hundred years ago?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"How long does it take for a stump like this to decay?" She couldn't believe it happened again. She'd been sitting on the clue. Somewhere Impa was laughing at her.

"Oh, I don't- a few decades, maybe."

But Zelda ignored him. There was not a hint of rot on it. "Someone wanted it to stay like this. Someone sat out here."

"Yes, the Alcott sisters," Tael said. "Sadly passed, I'm afraid. A tragedy."

"There," Zelda pointed into the dark. "They lived just there, didn't they?" Before Tael could answer she strode to the moss-covered trunk. With her fingernail, she picked at it, until she revealed the stone beneath. It wasn't a dead tree, it was a column, broken and resting on something behind it. "This used to be a house."

The others had taken notice of her and approached.

"What are you saying?" Link asked.

"There's something back there," she said, stepping toward the wall of fog.

"Don't get too close," Navi flew to her side.

Zelda reached out and pressed her hand into the haze. Stone greeted her, hidden and covered in vines.

"There is nothing there," Navi said. "Those who lived there are gone. It is empty, and if Saria entered that old ruin, she would have returned by now."

"And yet, I heard them. Perhaps it was the Alcott sisters, perhaps something else has found its way here." Zelda ran her hand across the surface, searching for a hole or door or glass window to break. The back of her hand felt warm, as though the goddesses themselves beckoned her on. If she pulled her hand out, would their light reveal itself?

Link and Skull Kid followed her as she went, the child laughing as they walked. The fairies stayed back, not drawing closer until Zelda stopped.

"Here," she said. "This is a door." She grappled to find the doorknob or ring to open it.

Before she had the chance Link rushed past her. His shield slammed into the wood. Navi yelped. Three strikes and the door screeched as it fell apart. Link grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back as a collapsing plank nearly struck her. Then he walked into the dark.

"Link!" Navi flew after him, stopping at the barrier, like a fly bouncing around a lantern. "Link come back."

"Skull Kid," Tatl said, "stop. It could be dangerous."

But the boy looked to his guardians and shrugged. "Link's friend is in there." Then he charged in after him. Tatl and Tael flew a pace behind.

"No," Navi moaned. "It's happening again. Why is it happening again?"

"What will we find in there?"

"Nothing. Those long dead," but that did not explain the fear in her voice. "We're going to get stuck. We'll be trapped and unable to get out. And… and I can't do this again."

Sheik held out her hand, and the fairy landed upon it. She was breathing so fast that it caused her palm to shake.

"You don't have to follow us. I can leave you here if you'd prefer. Someone should tell the children where we went and make certain they are treating Song well."

"No," Navi said. "I promised. Just, please, give me a moment to calm."

"Breathe in, breathe out." Zelda hoped her words would offer some comfort. "You're alive, you're free. And no one is going to let anything happen to you."

"No one ever lets it happen. It simply happens." Navi rose from her palm. "This was supposed to be the place where we could finally be safe."

So was Kakariko, so was Hyrule Castle. Perhaps they'd find safety one day.

Together they entered the fog.