Legend of Zelda: Deluge November Part 2

    

     They passed Oerba, and then the other two fishing villages. In just about two hours, they had reached the outskirts of the last village, Yambol. Here, the river met Hyrule Field. As they approached it, neither of them spoke. Link kept glancing at the line of trees on their side of the river as it drew further and further away from them, leaving them much more in the open than he was used to. The banks were now solid grass, and were almost level with the river. The river itself in this area was incredibly wide and deep, with only a few larger rocks breaking the smooth surface below visible far below the river’s clear surface. At one point Link tried to throw a rock across the river. His throwing arm gave him a reach of about twenty feet, or more if he threw it well. This was a good throw, yet it only reached about halfway across the river.

     The trees had cleared away completely, now at their backs.
They both stopped. Link looked out for the first time at Hyrule Field.

     His first impression was of finally seeing the horizon for the first time in his life. Even when he had climbed some of the tallest trees when he was young, his sight was still shrouded by the woods surrounding the river. But now the world had turned into something entirely different.

     Right in front of them was still the Zora’s River. Here it branched out in a Y shape, to their left and flowing ahead of them off to the right. Crossing the river’s split was a natural land bridge, reinforced with large stones. Link passed Auru, hurried up to the bridge, running until he had reached the top of its arc.

     Before him was an endless, rolling sea of brown grass, frozen dead ground, and the last resilient weeds of autumn. They wove together with patches of bare ground into the lengthy field before them. Together it all looked like a gigantic, slightly lumpy quilt. It was as if they had shrunken down to the size of a gnat, and this quilt had suddenly become their entire world.

     On the far horizon of the field were hills, some of which were dotted with dark, indiscernible shapes that Link supposed were large patches of trees, or perhaps villages. But all around them it was mostly smooth, almost flat. The traders in the caravans had told Link and the other villagers off-handedly about the flat stretches of the field, but Link had never really believed it before now, nor had his imagination provided anything that compared to the reality.

     Before they began to walk back down the bridge, Link looked to his left, to the south to where one branch of the river flowed. On its left side, often overshadowing the banks, was the woods. It followed the river faithfully as it flowed into the distance, where it became a wide dark line on the land, and then was lost in a dark sea of trees. Behind these trees were enormous, distinct, dark mountains. They were so steep and high that the grey clouds veiled their summits.

     Link turned to his right. The bank they had come from continued a fair way down the river, but soon met and was swallowed by the trees. The river, flowing directly north, went along straight until it was lost between the field and the haze of trees. Beyond were more mountains, wider and less steep, but still just as high as the ones to the south.

     Auru was also staring at the landscape, his face a little pale. “Phew, this place is incredible, isn’t it? Too bad it’s winter though.” He gestured at the field of dead grass. “I bet it’d be quite an uplifting sight in the summer or spring, high and green.”

     They continued to walk along the bridge, sloping down to meet the field. Link looked ahead and spotted a tall tree he had not seen before. It was only half a fourth of a mile away into the field, and was surrounded by large stones. Squinting at it, Link wondered how the stones had ended up there, since there were no sign of stones anywhere else in sight.

     “Oh!” Auru pointed at the solitary tree. “That’s where we’re going to meet the caravan. It’s just about two hours past noon now, and that’s about when they’ll be coming here. This is one of their rest stops.”

    They hurried down the bridge and out into the field. The grass and weeds that had looked so impressive before were actually very tough and scraggly, only reaching up to his ankles. Link felt something hard under his boot and looked down. Small rocks were littered everywhere amongst the grass, and the ground as he could see it now was more red clay than true brown, fertile dirt.

     That’s why there isn’t anyone living out here, he thought, looking back ahead of him. At least there shouldn’t be many ticks or fleas in grass this short, especially with it being cold. He breathed out slowly, realizing that he could not see his breath. Well, maybe it’s not that cold.

     They had reached the base of the tree. It was tall, old and sturdy though it was clearly leaning. All of its leaves had fallen, lost from the ground by the winds. The stones around the tree were only about as tall as Link. He ran his hand over one’s smooth surface and could tell it had been taken from the river. Looking back at the tree, which Auru was circling and staring at, Link noticed that a rope had been tied around it. Dangling from the rope was another river stone, though it was only about the size of his arm.

     “What is that?” Link walked over to the tree, staring up at the rope that was just out of his reach. It was clearly old and weathered, but was very strong, much like the rope they used for fishing, only immensely more sturdy. It was almost ridiculously bulky, being about as half as thick as the tree itself. Link took a step back and just stared at it, trying to guess what purpose it could possibly have. It was almost as if it was holding the tree itself in place, as it only began to lean past where the rope was tied.

    “That rope and all these stones are supposed to drive monsters and ghosts away,” said Auru, who was still circling the tree, looking it up and down. He was tall enough to reach the rope, and every now and then did so, stroking it curiously. “Since these rocks are here, it’s a rest stop for anyone traveling in the plains, since it’s supposed to be safe. I don’t know if it works, but you don’t really see many monsters or ghosts around running water, much less in our village, huh?”

    “I guess not. Where is the caravan coming from?”

     “That road.” Link looked to where Auru had jerked his head, seeing a rough dirt path, coming up from the large forest to the south. “They’re coming up from Lake Hylia,” finished Auru, turning his attention wholly back to the tree.

    They waited by the tree for about ten minutes. Link sat down at the base of the tree, keeping an eye out for the caravan and any other signs of life in the plains. Auru continued to walk around, examining the tree and the stones. Every now and then he would start talking about them, though it was clear he was thinking out loud.

     The first sign of the caravan was the distant sound of a horse’s whinny. Link immediately stood up, looking around. Auru had not noticed, and was squatting next to the tree, staring up at the rope. Walking ahead a few paces, Link stared to the south. Eventually, dark shapes appeared on the horizon, approaching them and growing larger and more defined by the minute.

     “Auru.” Link looked over to see his friend finally standing up and turning away from the tree.

    “What is it? Are they here?”

    He walked over and joined Link. After a while, he shouted out to the caravan, letting them know they were there. A couple of the men on horseback separated from the group and trotted near them, bringing their horses to a stop about twenty paces away. They wore short cloaks and cowls over their heads. Link noticed both men had rough leather armor on their chests and arms and had swords sheathed at their sides.

     “Who are you?” one of the men called.

     “It’s Auru, from Sliven,” he returned loudly, his voice calm and friendly. “I’m here with another townsman, Link, to go with you to Castle City.”

     “Oh, Auru—” The man whispered something to his companion, and then he directed his horse over to them, walking inside of the circle of stones, as his companion went back to the caravan.

     “I remember you,” the man was saying, looking down at them, pulling back his hood to reveal a weathered middle-aged man with a full beard and the long ears that identified him as a Hylian. He dismounted, leading his horse over to the tree, allowing it to graze. Link noticed that around the gnarly roots of the tree and the river stones, the grass was taller and healthier.

     Auru and the man began to talk about past trading seasons between the caravan and the riverside towns. Keeping quiet, Link focused his attention on the caravan itself as it approached them along the road and came inside the circle of stones. It consisted of seven wagons, all of which did not fit inside the circle. Even so, all of the horses, most of them brown, large and unremarkable, were still driven inside.

     Stepping closer to the tree, standing on its roots and out the way of everyone else, Link counted around fifty men and eighteen horses total: fourteen pulled the wagons, and the remaining four were used by the first two men, and two others for scouting and extra luggage. Almost every person Link recognized, as the caravan always set up between Oerbel and Sliven during the summer around the solstice. Then their packs and wagons were largely full, sometimes even stuffed with luggage and treasures. Now they were almost completely empty, save for food and water. As they took a break by the tree, Link spotted a few people going down to the river to replenish water skins.

     Like everyone who lived in the villages around Zora’s River, all in the caravan were Hylian. Link had heard and read of the other kinds of people in Hyrule, especially the desert tribes, who had short, rounded ears. Never having met such people, he sometimes wondered if the stories were true and, if there were, if such people could hear as well as Hylians.

     In less than an hour, they left, keeping to Zora’s River as it ran up to the north. Link and Auru stayed to the outer edge of the caravan, near the middle. Auru continued conversing with a man who had observed the oak tree with him just before they left.  Link did not engage anyone in conversation, but listened to those going on amongst the people in the caravan. They mostly spoke of the good trade they got from Lake Hylia, some of the people they had swindled, as well as the monsters they encountered around the Forbidden Woods. Link learned that several of the travelers were not traders, but had been hired solely to guard the caravans. He noticed several other men, usually on horseback, who bore swords and a few pieces of leather armor. Although they were mostly quiet, sometimes they would engage the traders in conversation with a familiar ease that told they had been traveling together for some time. Link recognized some as long-time members of the caravan.

     They continued to press on until the twilight fell, casting everything in an orange light with their long, dark shadows stretching across the field. Setting up several fires, they camped a fair distance from the river, though close enough for anyone to go down and get water without going out of sight. They camped in a circle, with the wagons loosely surrounding them. Night watch was decided, and Link noticed that only he, Auru, and the man Auru was still talking with were left out of this. They were also placed at the edge of the group, near one of the night watches, and away from any wagons that had any food or leftover luggage.

     Link laid out his cloak and extra blanket and bedded down early after the small dinner, his sword at his side. Although worn out from the day, he did not let himself fall asleep until he heard Auru come over nearby and begin to lay out his own bedding. Sitting up, Link looked at him.

     Noticing him, Auru smiled sleepily as he sat down on his bedding, saying, “I thought you were asleep, Link. You won’t believe what that scholar I’ve been talking to has been telling me.” As he took off his belt and luggage and laid it between them, near Link’s own things and sword, he continued, “He’s been working down at the Forbidden Woods, it’s this gigantic forest to the south, around those huge mountains. It used to be called the Lost Woods, but then the king forbade anyone from entering without his permission and the name changed. Not a very original switch huh? He forbade it, it’s called ‘forbidden.’ You’ve got to wonder who is in charge of these things. But anyhow, the wood is full of magic and it sounds amazing. There are said to be things like a spring of immortality, a tree that never stops growing, and ancient temples from when the gods walked the land. There are supposed to be fairies, too.”

    Lying back down and looking up at the cloudy night sky, Link mumbled, “I haven’t seen a fairy since I was little.”

    “Oh, that’s right.” Auru was lying down, pulling his cloak over him. “You saw one, huh? I remember that.”

    “Right. No one else would believe me. My grandparents thought I was seeing things.”

    “Well, who could blame them? No one else has seen a fairy in over a hundred years.”

     Sighing, Link rolled over, looking at Auru. He was lying on his stomach, his face in his arms.

     “Auru?”

     “What’s wrong?” he asked without moving, his voice muffled.

     “Are we going to see your brother while we’re at the city?”

     “Oh. Yes, we are. I figured that’d come up. He sure teased you a lot over the fairy thing, didn’t he? Well, a lot more than usual anyways. But yes, we’re going to check on him. But it’ll be quick, just to see how he is and to let him personally know about the marriage.” Auru turned his head and looked over at him, grinning thinly. “Maybe he’s changed. You never know, eh?”

     Link did not answer.

    “Well,” Auru went on, “I’ll be sure to tell him to get along with you better. After Layrel and I marry, you’ll be brothers with both Bolek and me. He’ll have to get his act together.”

      Rolling over away from him, Link sighed. “Fine. Goodnight.”

     

     For three days they continued, always within sight of the river, following its path. They rose early, and each morning Link offered to help with something. He was always given the task of something that did not have to do with the valuables of the caravan. This often meant doing the most menial labor, such as collecting water, disposing of wasted food or garbage, and, the third morning, he was sent to washing one of the wagon horses who had gotten muddy overnight. He was helped by a few boys of the caravan, younger than he. They led the horse down to the river’s edge and washed the mud that was caked on its shaggy winter coat. As unaccustomed as he was to horses, Link had little trouble with this one, as it was a mare of a very mild temperament. All the same, he avoided the back legs and did not go behind the horse, and he was grateful that the boys did not expect him to check and clean out the horse’s hooves.

     That day, the river split. One branch flowed towards the north-east; Auru indicated that it flowed towards Kakariko Village and that the mountains in that direction, hidden by the haze of the day, hosted Death Mountain. They followed the other branch, leading towards the west, directly towards the plains. As they continued they left the flat stretch of the field behind them and the land grew hilly with gentle, low hills.

     When they settled down for the evening, it was a warm night with a pleasantly cool breeze. The caravan set up the wagons and the fires as usual, but the warm air relaxed everyone, making everybody a little louder, a little merrier and a little more generous with the food. Link got involved in a few small contests of strength, pitting him against guards and bolder men of the caravan. Auru joined for a few, and won several of them, but soon dropped out to go back to his usual place, which was talking with the scholar about the Forbidden Woods.

      Link heard the other people in the group also talk about the woods, how if anyone went inside he would be turned into a skeleton, or even into stone forever. Although he never said a word, Link wondered if the scholar was a little crazy to be so interested in poking around in such a place. One of the men mentioned that they would reach the city the next day. Link looked back over at Auru and the scholar, feeling relieved that the latter would not have much more time to fill Auru’s head with crazy, dangerous ideas.

     While it had been partly cloudy the past two nights, this night there were no signs of moon or starlight. The land by the river had sloped up to a small hill, steeper than most in the area, upon which they now rested. The wind whipped up the hill and into the camp. At the breeze was pleasant in the warm night, but now that they were all starting to settle down and try to sleep, it became obnoxious. It slowly turned from a steady, light wind to something with random bursts of stronger, much colder wind. Auru just curled up tighter under his blanket, but Link sat up. He could hear the horses shifting, stamping the ground, snorting.

     Grabbing his sword and tying it onto his belt, leaving his shield behind, he stood up and tried to look out into the dark night. The firelight behind him dazzled his eyes, robbing him of any hope of getting his eyes accustomed to the dark. He bit down on his lip, hesitating, but then hurried back to the nearest campfire. Grabbing a wet stick from the pile of firewood, he dipped one end into the flames until it lit up.

    Turning around, he hurried back to the edge of the camp, stepping out to the rim of the circle of the wagons. Holding the makeshift torch aloft, he peered out. He could make out some stones that had popped up with the sloping hill. Atop the hill, with no light from above, very little was visible except what was immediate and revealed to the glow of his torch.

     The horses were still restless. One whinnied anxiously, and someone hurried over to calm it, complaining irritably. The guards of the caravan were also up, most with their own torches. They circled around the camp, frowning, gazing out nervously into the dark. A few asked Link if he had seen anything, but he only shook his head.

     There was a low moan in the air, creeping out from the night. At first, Link thought of the trees in October, where the blustery autumn winds would make them bend and groan from the strain of the gusts and their leaves. But he quickly reminded himself the only trees were on the other side of the river and that the moaning was emanating from the field. The guards men were calling to each other and people were waking in the camp. The moan continued, seemingly endless, held on a single note. Link walked back over to Auru, who was sitting up, looking tired and confused, trying to peer out into the darkness.

     Back at the camp, Link looked out at the field once again. He caught his breath, freezing on instinct.

     There were eyes in the dark. They reflected the firelight like the sharp, feral eyes of animals in the wilderness.

     Shaking himself, Link threw his torch into his right hand, leaving his left hand ready to grab his sword.

    “Torches out!” a hiss was going amongst everyone in the camp. “Put all torches out, now!” The torches died, though the campfires were not touched. Someone shouted at him, and Link stepped back, throwing his torch into the fire. Hurrying back to the edge of the camp, all he could see was the shadows.

    There was a loud, echoing snap as a large log broke within the flames.

    Suddenly all around him there was the sound of clacking stones. The sound was grinding and unbearable, and he had to stop himself from flinching away or covering his ears. The eyes reappeared in the dark, but now there were easily over forty of them. They were steadily shifting, growing larger, drawing closer. The clacking noises grew louder.

    The caravan was in a flurry of movement. The horses were mounted or corralled near the noncombatants into the circle of bonfires in the middle of the camp. The most able men and guards on horseback circled the camp again. They shouted fiercely out at the eyes, often incoherently. It reminded Link of winter, when the wolves would come to the woods near his home. As a child, he had watched from a tree as a pack had tried to thin out a herd of deer. Before the wolves could do anything, the deer immediately put on an impressive display, in which they ran away but with their focus upon looking incredibly fit and showing off how healthy they were rather than actually running away very fast. After that, the wolves would target the deer that had made the least impressive display of physical health.

     It worked for a moment. The clacking stopped and the eyes stopped moving, apparently bedazzled by the boisterous display of the men and their horses, their swords drawn and reflecting the firelight. Link, standing next to a wagon, glanced back to see Auru near the circle of noncombatants. He was armed, but his stance was unsteady, his eyes rapidly darting about and he quickly turned his head to look about in every direction. He and several others in the group reminded Link of the type of deer that would get eaten.

     If these things attack, I can’t let them get past these wagons, thought Link, his hand resting around his sword’s hilt.

     The wind died, and the loud voices of the guards seemed to be sucked away with it.

     The eyes began to advance quickly, the clacking sound returning. Link pulled out his sword, waiting until the eyes were closer. As a few of the guards broke away to attack, the eyes came into the range of the firelight.

     Link had seen pictures of Stalchildren before in Purel’s books. They were only about four feet tall, with heads that looked more like bear than human skulls. They had no flesh or muscle, only skeletons with light in their dark eye sockets. The clacking noise came from their jaws. Their bottom jaws looked half-unhinged, and as the Stalchildren walked their teeth would often clap together. They walked with their bony arms outstretched, with hands twice as large as a normal adult’s hand, bearing claw-like nails.

     As the guards darted at them, diving in for an attack and then hurrying out of the monsters’ reach, Link spotted a couple slipping past them. Rushing out of the camp, Link caught the first Stalchild off guard, quickly slicing its head off. Keeping his balance, Link did not lose any time in taking one step back, his eyes on the next monster. It took one more step towards him and then lunged, haphazardly flinging a clawed hand at him. Immediately he side-stepped, cutting the arm off. Before it had a chance to attack again, he drove his sword through its bony ribs, breaking it’s backbone. It crumbled to the ground as another came walking towards him.

     There was a piercing, inhuman scream. Link spun around towards it. The scream had come from a horse, which had a Stalchild clinging to its flank, biting it. The horse bolted away, bucking both its rider and the monster off. Link raced forward to the fallen guard.

    Something sharp bit onto his leg. Grunting in pain, his head twisted, looking down. A Stalchild’s head that he had severed from its body was clinging onto him like a bear trap. He tried fruitlessly to shake it off and dropped forward, banging it on the ground, knocking its grip loose. It fell off as he stood back up and, with a shout, drove his sword through the skull. The light in its eyes died, and it did not move.

    There was a ruckus in the main camp. He saw the guards racing around, battering at the Stalchildren, trying to keep them confused and out of the circle of wagons. But they had begun to crowd around the camp, easily surrounding it. Some of them walked right past Link, ignoring him, focused on joining the crowd of their kin.

    Steadying his grip on his sword, he dashed towards the main group, slicing through the skulls of the nearest monsters. Cries erupted as the sheer number began to overwhelm the guards, slipping past the wagons, sending more of the horses into a panic. Link dove at the monsters, killing a few, then jumped back before others could retaliate. A few swung after him with their claws or snapped their jaws threateningly, but none chased him, focused on getting into the camp. Without stopping to think, Link jumped after them, trying to distract them, fighting too many at once. Sharp teeth were biting at him, and he was forced to leap back or roll away several times to avoid a severe blow.

     I should have grabbed my shield—

    The people in the camp were screaming and the guards were shouting at the monsters and at each other. Knocking the head off of a Stalchild that had just sliced at his hat, Link firmly pulled it back on with one hand and held his sword ready with the other. Abandoning everything else, he ran into the crowd of monsters, trying to get towards Auru, whose voice he could not hear amongst the din.

    A horse raced by and something knocked him in the back of the head, sending him to the ground, knocking all the wind out of him. Rolling over on his back, trying to breathe, all he could see were the eyes and claws of the monsters as they looked down at him, reaching out for him. He kicked and thrust out with his sword, trying to drive their claws away, desperately trying to even sit up. One grabbed onto his head, almost twisting his neck as it pressed him down. Shouting with the effort, he thrashed about in its grasp, wildly slicing the others trying to grab or bite him, but unable to move his head out of its iron grip, even as its claws began to sink into his hair and he could feel hot blood rolling down his cheeks.

     There was a low rumbling in the ground, running up into his head through his ear that was pressed on the ground. Even amidst his struggles and the din around him, it became impossible to ignore as its vibrations grew stronger and stronger until it was almost as though his body was shaking from it. The monsters froze, looking away, loosening their grip. Immediately he tore up from them, standing up and swiftly swinging his sword in a spin, splitting the heads of all around him.

     Holding up his sword, panting and sweating, he steadied himself, ready. But none of the monsters still alive around him paid him heed, staring at the darkness to their left. Link looked in the same direction, realizing that was where the rumbling was coming from. Down the hill, he heard the distinct sound of something tearing through the ground. It reminded him of a raging flood, strong enough to tear up the deepest tree roots and strongest stones. The guards were shouting for everyone to get back in the circle of the camp, but Link did not move, feeling as though his legs were rooted to the ground.

      Rolling up the hill and into the light of the campfire came what Link could only think of as gigantic, self-propelled boulders. Dirt, grass and rocks were thrown up in their wake as they raced towards the Stalchildren, which were frantically trying to bury themselves into the ground.

     One boulder rolled right at Link. His wits returning, he jumped away, scrambling amongst the thinning cloud of monsters. He sprinted to and past the wagons, running right into the crowd in the camp. Turning back, he saw the monsters being trampled by what seemed like thousands of these boulders, circling, rolling and crushing at the speed of a raging river. They all seemed to blur together in the firelight, making his head spin.

     Someone grabbed onto Link, and he twisted around, his sword clenched tight, ready to swing. He started, seeing Auru. He had some scrapes, and on and around his bare wrist he could see a bite from the monsters. Otherwise, he was unharmed.

     “You—are you okay?” Auru was choking out. Link only managed to nod hurriedly.

     Together they watched as the boulders either destroyed or chased away the rest of the monsters. People were lighting torches again. Link did not sheathe his sword, but kept his eye on the boulders.

     Is it some kind of magic? A trick? I don’t know…

    “I-I wonder if they’re Gorons,” said Auru, his voice low and hesitant.

    “What? You mean the stone people?” Link could not help but frown uncertainly. The Zoras he grew up with never had many flattering things to say about the Gorons.

    “Purel always says they’re close allies with the king,” whispered Auru. “Maybe that’s why they saved us?”

     All of the monsters were gone. The boulders stopped moving and Link realized that they were not boulders at all, but rather Gorons. They had curled up, rolling mostly along their large stony backs. There were three, and they joined together outside the line of the camp. They were vast, their torsos wide and strong, with short stocky legs and long, thick arms. Link rubbed his eyes and looked back, trying to make them out better as the guards slowly went out to thank and greet them. After hesitating, Link followed them, ignoring Auru’s whispered insistence that they should not do anything. He hung back, standing at the edge of the crowd of travelers, listening and watching as one of the guards was nearly bowing, thanking the Gorons for their help.     “There is no need for this,” said the tallest Goron in a deep, firm voice. He had dark, ashen grey stone and hard skin. The sharp contrast of the flames from the fire and the sparse torches cast his features into distinct shadow and light. Link could not make out his eyes well, but saw that he had a pointed beard of stone and also stone for hair that rolled back from his brow line like a windswept mane of rock fur. With a long nose that was knobby as if it had been broken and high cheek bones, he made Link think of an especially large cat. A smile tugged at his lips at the comparison, but he suppressed it.

     As this Goron and the guards talked, the other Gorons hung by quietly. The shortest was light brown-grey, with very little hair and a small pointed beard. He too had high cheekbones, but his face was very wide and his eyes were spaced too far apart. He had a short snub nose and a rather wide mouth that did not seem to suit him. This especially stood out as he kept giving those around him a strange, twisted smile that could easily be in good or ill humor.

     The other Goron was very dark, greyer than the tallest. He had very low cheekbones, giving him a rounded face that, combined with a pointed beard and arching pointed hair and his wide mouth that was resting in an earnest smile, gave him a very friendly appearance. He had the same short snub nose as the shortest Goron, but his eyes were closer together, making him look just a little more human, normal.

    After a moment of talk so low Link could not hear it, the guard turned to the rest of his group, exchanged a few whispers, and then announced loudly to the entire camp, “We’ll all be resting together tonight with these Gorons who saved us. Treat your wounds, but save any extra cleanup for tomorrow morning. Tomorrow, we will all continue to Castle City, together.”

     There was a moment of profound silence. Link turned, looking at the faces of the crowd, but they mostly had their backs to the flames of the campfires, veiling their expressions in shadows. Those he could see looked more little confused and unsure rather than relieved. However, a murmur of assent rose. They all began to clear up what was needed, settling back down to sleep, calming the horses. After quickly cleaning his own wounds, Link helped one of the boys wipe down the sweat off of the same mare he had help wash, he spotted one of the Gorons walking by, the dark one of middle height with the friendly face. The mare did not respond to him, not even with a snort or a stomp of her hoof.

     Remembering how the horses had panicked around the Stalchildren, Link thought, I guess Gorons can’t be all that bad, then. And they did save us.

     After he finished helping, Link found Auru, who looked like he was about to drop over. They remade their bedding, but this time closer together than before, with only a couple pieces of their luggage between their blankets. As they settled down again, Link first put his sword in his blanket with him. Then he took off his hat, noticing where the monsters had torn it.

     I’ll just have to sew it up tomorrow. He sighed and folded it carefully, putting it down to use as a pillow. Lying down, Link tried to think of something to ask Auru. But he looked over and saw him sleeping, any scratches or cuts bandaged, still a little pale, but overall fine.

     Rolling back over, Link curled up under his cloak. Even if he wanted to, he could not have stayed awake a moment longer.

The Legend of Zelda and characters copyright Nintendo

"The Legend of Zelda: Deluge" writing and original concepts and characters copyright Mahira / Mahira-chan