Legend of Zelda: Deluge November Part 6

     Zelda woke up in her bed, immediately aware of the cold, biting air. Not bothering to open her eyes, she snuggled deeper into the warmth of her blankets, pulling them over her head. After a moment of basking in the warmth of the shell of blankets and quilts, she peeked out. In her small bedroom, the fire was lit, kept fresh through the night by one of her servants. The firelight and the cold light peeking in through her curtains were the only things illuminating her dark room. Slowly she sat up, keeping the blankets wrapped around her.

     It’s a lot colder this morning.

    Slipping out of bed into her thick, luxuriously soft slippers, she rubbed her arms and pulled her thick nightgown close around her neck as she padded over to the curtains. Drawing them back, she stared outside, her hands clenching the heavy, soft curtains tightly and not releasing them.

     Outside was pure white. The snow was still falling, though it was an intense blizzard that destroyed all chance of visibility. She frowned at the scene, twisting the curtains in her grip. One of her maids was knocking at her door and she told her to enter.

     After getting dressed and ready for the day, complete with a light touch of painted makeup with the help of the maid, Zelda sent her away. In her place came a tall woman in black, with light hair and skin that was tan as if with years of sunlight. Her red irises stood out from her dark dress and long, dark blue cloak with dull orange tassels.

     “Good morning, Zelda,” she said in a calm, clear voice.

     “This weather really is horrific, isn’t it?” she commented as the woman pulled out a small scroll. “Is that the list for today? Impa…you know I like to make those on my own.”

     Impa handled her the scroll, and she unrolled it, revealing a list of her tasks for the day, written in fine, black ink. “You were tired after your research yesterday, so I took the liberty of doing this for you.” A faint smile traced Impa’s lips. “I knew you would sleep in, with this weather. You’ve always slept longer when it’s cold, ever since you were young.”

     “Oh, yes, I wonder why?” Zelda asked airily, her attention focused on the list. Remembering the events of the previous evening, she looked back at Impa. “Those two young men who were visiting the castle, they’re still here, right?”

     “Yes, they’re bunking with the knights. They had plenty of spare room for them.”

     “Let them know that they must stay here until this storm ends. It would be fatal to try to travel even to the city in this weather.”

     “If you wish.”

     Zelda hurried to her open wardrobe and pulled out a small red shawl lined with dark fur. As she slipped it on, she said, “I’m going to meet with the Magician’s Guild to talk about this weather. It may be of magical nature, so I’ll have to get them to look into that. And then I’ll get on this list right away.” She firmly rolled up her list, and put it in a small, long pocket on the inside of the shawl.

     Impa held the door open for her. “Have a good morning, Princess.”

     “Yes yes, you too.” Zelda stalked away, already wondering how she was going to motivate the Guild this time.

     “Your majesty, there are only four of us in the castle now, so the idea is rather unreasonable.” The head of the Magician’s Guild, Sir Carock, was looking down his long nose at Zelda, though at a very subtle angle that would suggest to most observers that he was not doing so. He stroked his short, cropped beard quickly, pulling at it impatiently. The wrinkles of a man just beginning to depart middle age showed as he smiled, saying, “And, I know your majesty is too occupied to aid us in a spell of this strength.”

     Zelda almost rolled her eyes, but instead made it look as though she was just contemplating the enormous chandelier hanging above the round maple wood table at which they were seated. They were in an average castle room, though it had no windows, and only rugs surrounded the walls that curved up to a high ceiling. Directly below the chandelier, in the middle of the room, was the large, square table. There were many tall wooden chairs surrounding it, but only five were occupied. Other than Zelda, who sat across from Carock, there were three other men on the other sides of the table. One was on Zelda’s left side, sitting closer to Carock’s side, was the youngest man with a bald head covered by a tall, embroidered purple hat with tasteful gold leaf. On her right, sitting near each other in the middle, where two middle aged men. One was rather fat, with light, wispy hair and a large, furry cape that he wrapped around him in the cold room that did not have any fireplace. The other man had dark hair and a pointed face and he leaned forward with his elbows on the table. Although his body language told he was engaged in the proceedings, his expression looked rather bored.

     “This storm is very incredible, out of season and also wholly unpredicted by any of our meteorologists,” said Zelda in a firm voice. “There is a fair probability it is caused by magic. I would like you to discover if that is the case, and then and only then will we do more to combat it.” Carock begin to speak, but she quickly talked over him, “And if we hesitate to at least consider this possibility, we may be frozen to death before we can do anything, given that we discover that this is a cursed storm. I ask that you begin this spell today. And on a final note, within the castle now, there are some civilians who are not part of the castle household. If worst does come to worst and we have to only save a few people from some magical, frozen onslaught, the priority of this castle is and always will be the civilians.”

     Carock was glowering at her as the fat man, who was looking colder by the minute, spoke up, “I don’t want this weather to get any worse because we were too negligent. I second her motion.”

     “As do I,” said the youngest man, sitting up straight, giving Carock an apologetic look. “I believe that it’s better safe than sorry, and frankly, there is little to lose.”

     “And after all,” Zelda smiled, her voice glowing, “I’m sure this spell will be no mean feat for the Magician’s Guild, especially with you here, Sir Carock. We all have faith in your abilities, which are frankly unparalleled. And, of course, we know you and every member possesses the capability for this type of spell. Frankly, with you four together and Sir Carock leading, it should not be difficult at all. The entire castle trusts you with our fate.”

     Carock smirked at her and she just smiled back, knowing that from the beginning he knew she was just flattering them. He had known her for all his life. But he still nodded.

     “We’ll get to it in an hour’s time. Expect a report by tomorrow night, at the latest.”

     Immediately, she arose. “Thank you all so very much.” Giving them all one final, gracious smile, she turned and left the room, using magic to make the door open on its own for her and close behind her quietly.

     On the other side, walking by, was a tall woman, dressed in a bright, layered dress and a white cloak of light material. Most of her black hair was tucked away inside a gold and blue hat that had a couple long tassels on each side of her square face. She stopped and nodded to Zelda, looking rather drowsy and just a little annoyed.

     “How are you doing, Princess?” she asked, proceeding to stifle a yawn.

     “Good morning, Valarah. Did you need something with the guild? Or with me?”

      “Actually, I just wanted to have a chat with Carock. Is he in the meeting room now? See, we got into a…discussion last night about my magic.” She shrugged dismissively. “I just wanted to remind him a few things and get them off my mind before starting the day.”

     “Oh, could you keep it for later? I only just succeeded in getting him to agree to do something for me. I don’t want to damage that.”

     She frowned deeply, folding her thick arms. “Well, that won’t do, not at all.” She shrugged. “But if you say so, I’ll just have to wait. If have to.”

     Zelda bit her lip. “And, you might want to use more polite language when talking to him. Might make things a little easier.”

     Valarah just fluttered her hand airily. “Whatever you say, princess. I’ll do that.” She grinned at her. “I heard about the fairy yesterday. Oh, I bet you were incredibly excited, hm?”

     Her eyebrows rose. “Oh? You heard about that?”

     “Oh please Princess! It’s a fairy, everyone’s heard about it. They’re too rare for everyone NOT to hear about it.”

     “I see. But, you weren’t even there. You knew I was really excited to see the fairy?” She shook her head, smiling. “You’re better than Impa.”

     “Or maybe we’re in cahoots to just make you think we’re both much more intuitive than we really are.” She winked at her, then turned, walking away. Still shaking her head, Zelda walked as slowly as she could towards the rest of her day.

    

     It was the second day since the snowfall had begun and Link found himself cleaning the knights’ swords in their large armory. The armory was an extensive, dark stone room, partially underground, and was full with both weapons and suits of armor. Looking out the high window, he could see the snow was still falling fast and heavy, the snowflakes large, clumped together. Yet the snowfall was not quite as intense as it had been earlier that day. The first day after the blizzard started, the head night, Quin, had told Link and Auru that they had to remain in the castle grounds until the storm had completely ceased. Auru had been sent to help with the high-class merchants who were taking refuge in the castle, having come to display their wares to the castle seamstress and had been trapped by the weather. Link, meanwhile, showed his knowledge of managing weapons, leather, and metal to Quin, who had sent him to work in the armory.

     Bolek had somehow become his taskmaster. Fully intent on getting revenge for Link punching him in the nose, he had woken Link up this morning by banging two old pots together right above his head. Soon after that he had rudely and hastily thrown him into the armory, giving him no time or chance for breakfast. About once an hour he came to check on his progress, each time declaring it unsatisfactory due to the most minor of insignificant flaws. At the moment, Link found himself still working on the tenth out of the hundred swords in the room. As he tried to rub an old, strange stain off its pommel, he felt how imbalanced the weapon was. Grabbing the hilt, he held out the sword and scowled at its horrible craftsmanship, wondering why they did not just melt the thing down and get it out of his workload.

     Two hours passed and his instincts told him it was a couple hours past noon. Yet, Bolek had not come to check on him. His stomach growling in hunger, he sheathed the sword he was currently working on and set it with the others. After waiting for a few more minutes, he shoved his cleaning materials under the stone bench and picked up his cloak. Donning it, he left the room.

     I’ll be back before he comes to check on me. If he comes.

     He hurried up a short, winding staircase, one of the exits from the armory. Sparse lanterns lit his path to the top of the stairs. The door was ajar, leading into a smaller store room. There were a few wooden crates, covered by worn, tattered blankets. Passing them, he headed for the small door; bracing himself, he slowly pushed it open.

     A cold wind pierced right through him, and thick, icy snowflakes were assaulting him, stinging at his face. Pulling the cloak up around him more securely, he stepped outside into the snow and closed the door behind him. He was in the castle’s back, northern courtyard, which looked very similar to the southern one in front that he had passed through two days ago. It was largely empty, with symmetrical rows of tall oak trees lining the yard as it wrapped around the castle. However, this yard was mostly natural, frozen earth and ground, with sparse stone walkways.

     Here, exiting the wall of the castle, he could see the entrance to the stables on the left end of the courtyard. At the castle building straight ahead of him were the large doors that led inside, leading towards the kitchen and feasting hall. On his right, the castle dipped down into a wall that branched out and met the wall that encircling all of the courtyards. Here, connecting the north and west yard, were four high, narrow open arches in the middle of the wall, just wide enough for a single horseman to fit through.

     Folding his arms, he walked out into the snow, making reasonable speed. Due to the winds, the snow was not as high as it could potentially be. Yet, it still reached up halfway to his knees. Sometimes it was firm enough to walk on, but then the wind would pick up, blowing it away from underneath him and sending him sprawling to regain his balance.

     The wind weakened to a strong breeze as he went through the courtyard, heading for one of the small doors on the back of the castle, near the stables. Passing the stable entrance, he could see the warm lights of torches in the cracks of the wooden shutters and the wide, high open doorway. With the howl of the wind dissipating, he could hear voices from inside the stables. Frowning, he stopped, realizing one was Bolek’s, laughing nervously, obnoxiously loud.

     For a moment he stood there, unsure, and then without bothering to think about it, he headed for the stables. The wind continued to die as he drew nearer, and he could distinctly hear Bolek talking in a loud, bragging tone.

     Link gritted his teeth. He doesn’t have time to work, but he has time to boast and make jokes? Wait, who would he be making them with? Seems like everyone here doesn’t like him very much.

     He entered the warm, well-lit stables, where the earthy smells of horse, hay and droppings greeted him like warm waves. The wind and snow clawed at his back, but could not follow as he went inside down a short wooden hallway.  A horse’s stable was directly across from him, the door to it shut except for a section open for the horse’s neck and head. A white horse, with a head as big as his torso, was looking at him sleepily. Shaking his head in amazement at the horses’ huge size, Link slowed to a stop. Bolek’s loud voice was ringing in the stables and in his ears, he looked around the corner.

     Down both sides was a single, wide lane, flanked by horses stalls. Some of the stalls had horses heads leaning out, most of them looking bored, at least one gnawing on its wooden door. One of them, just a few stalls down the aisle to Link’s right, was tossing its black head restlessly. Near it were Bolek and a young woman Link’s age.

     Bolek, his helmet off to reveal his thick, red-orange hair, was standing in the middle of the aisle, his arms crossed, his crimson cape pulled back from his chest so his muscular arms would not be hidden. He was talking with his hands, making wide, demonstrative gestures with his arms as he said, “And even though they said I couldn’t, I managed to throw that jerk clear across Zora’s River! And that river is really, really wide. I’m about the only guy who could pull something like that off.”

     Listening to him, standing just beside the head of the black horse was a girl. She had long, wavy red hair reaching down to her elbows. Her top was a thick, woolen white sweater with simple blue embroidery, with a leather belt of good material. Her skirt was long and purple with a leather apron that was almost just as long and covered with decorative red stitching. The boots she wore were sturdy, thick and good for the snow. Hiding her neck and shoulders was a yellow, fringed shawl. Her hands and wrists were gloved, so the only skin she bared was her long, pointed ears and her heart-shaped face, which bore freckles and a healthy, delicate tan that made the sky-blue shade of her round eyes stand out.

     “So, what you’re saying is,” she interrupted Bolek, her voice carrying a subtle but distinct drawl that told she was not from the city, “you always do things like throw people over creeks and stuff when they lose to you in these contests of yours?”

     “Well, sure, but only if they deserve it,” Bolek said, nodding sagely.

     “Oh. Alright.”

    The black horse began to move its head around, bobbing it nervously. Immediately the young woman turned around and stroked it, undaunted by the fact that she almost had to reach up on her toes to pat the top of the horse’s neck. After it calmed down a little, she moved to face Bolek, but stopped, noticing Link.

     “And who are you?” She raised her eyebrows, craning her neck to look at him. “You don’t look like a stable boy.”

      He shook his head. “No, I’m not.” Link walked out as Bolek spun to look at him, glaring.

     “Aren’t you supposed to be in the armory?” he snapped.

     “You didn’t come, so I thought I’d go and get some food,” Link replied, reaching them, meeting Bolek’s glare.

     “You two know each other?” the young woman asked, taking a step towards Link, who self-consciously took half a step back from her.

     “He’s that jerk I was telling the story about,” Bolek said, shooting Link a smirk.

     “Did he really throw you across a river?” the young woman asked.

      Before Bolek could protest, Link quickly answered, “No, he just threw me right into it. The river is too wide in the first place.”

     “Uh huh. Wait a moment…” The young woman was pointing at him, her eyes lighting up, a smile spreading on her face. “You’re that boy who came up from some village two days ago! You got into a fight and got arrested and all that—you’re the fairy boy!”

      Link shifted in place, frowning uneasily. “Not everyone knows about that, do they?”

     “Are you kidding? It’s a fairy, all of the household has been talking about it. I’ve been trying to get this guy,” she gestured at Bolek, who looked grievously insulted, “to tell me more about it. But now you both can tell me! Oh, a real fairy!” She clasped her hands. “Was she beautiful?”

      Thinking of the teal ball of light with wings that had bit him and threatened to pull out his chest hairs if he did not obey her, Link just shrugged.

     The young woman’s face fell at his response, but Bolek immediately spoke up, “S-she was very impressive! With the wings and…she really glowed and—”

     The woman turned on him. “Really? What color was she?”

      “Uh, blue. Yeah, blue!”

     “Oh wow.” She suddenly burst into giggles, turning back on Link. “Was she really in your shirt?!”

      Link slowly nodded, which only made her giggle harder.

      When she had stopped, she wiped her eyes, saying, “Ahh, that’s great! I’m happy I could meet you, fairy boy.” She extended her gloved hand. “I’m Malon.”

     Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a jerk of movement from Bolek and, as if on reflex, he immediately grabbed Malon’s hand, shaking it firmly. Her grip on him was secure and strong, and as their hands parted he wondered what sort of job she had.

      “I’m Link. Do you work here, Malon?”

      Malon intertwined her fingers absentmindedly as she answered, “Oh, no, not me. I’m just here to deliver some horses from my family’s ranch, Lon Lon Ranch. We’ve got the best horses in Hyrule!”

      Before Link could even open his mouth, Bolek immediately asked, “Do you always travel out here alone? That’s really dangerous.”

       Malon rolled her eyes and looked at Bolek. “Please, Bolek. We train our horses to be fighters.” Link noticed her gaze kept drifting down to Bolek’s large, muscled, folded arms as she continued, “Believe me, I’ve had my fair share of ghosts and ghouls, and I’m not some green traveler. As long as I’ve got my horses and my head on my shoulders, I’m just fine!” She looked at Link, straight in the eye, saying, “If anything it’s the men that bother me.”

      When Link just shrugged uncertainly, Bolek hastily spoke up, “You mean the city cads? I can’t believe they’d go after a farm girl like you.”

      Malon frowned, nailing Bolek with a look. “You can’t believe they’d go after me? And, what’s that supposed to mean?”

      “Well, it…”

     Bolek tried to formulate a reply unsuccessfully and looked so genuinely upset that Link hastily spoke up, “I think he means that city guys shouldn’t pick on girls. Or something like that.”

      He ignored Bolek glaring at him as Malon nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true, but sometimes things can in the country, but again,” standing up straight, she intertwined her fingers again and stretched her hands, cracking her knuckles, “I guess the country is actually worse. Most city guys just run for cover when they meet a real country girl, rather than these prim, prissy dolls in the city. Do you know what I mean?”

      Link supposed that her use of ‘dolls’ was some form of slang and just shrugged again. As Malon began to talk, going on about how pitifully skinny everyone was in the city and how they must not eat well, a knight entered the stable. He hurried over, nodding curtly to Malon who smiled back and just kept talking as the knight whispered something to Bolek. In response he scowled, shooting a furious look at the knight.

     “Just get back to your post already,” he muttered, then hurried away, leaving the stables.

      “—and the horse stepped all over her dress, the poor thing was screaming like a pig, but then I got them up here without any more problems and the snow began to fall, and I’ve been working here ever since then, since most of the stable hands got sick recently.” Malon took a breath and then looking at Link, saying, “You know, I could use some extra help. You should come by after you’re done with your…armory work, or whatever Bolek said it was.”

     Bolek cleared his throat and said, “I have to go back to my duties now—”

     “Okay, right, have a good time!” Malon waved at him, and then looked back at Link. “So, you’ll help me, right?”

     Link waited until Bolek had stormed off before he said answered, “Yeah, it…” He looked back at Malon, who was looking expectantly at him. He carefully formed the words as he finished, “It sounds nice.”

     “Great! You go and finish with your work that so we can get started sooner than later. I can tell, you’ll be a natural with horses, fairy boy.”

     Link just nodded, walking away from her backwards in a daze until he tripped and nearly fell over a bag of oats. Hearing her giggles, he spun around and hurried away stiffly, his cheeks burning. Before he exited the stable, he slowed and looked back once.

     She was standing in front of the black horse’s stable, feeding it something out of her hand. Her face was clear and vibrant, and her red hair sparkled, catching the light from one of the many lanterns hanging from the ceiling. With her bright, light colored clothes that suited her eyes and skin perfectly, she looked like a picture in and of herself, if roughly flecked by straw and dust. Yet even they looked golden in the light, and only served to complete the picture. She spotted him staring and waved him away. Immediately he ducked out of sight, not bothering to pull his cloak up as he rushed out into the cold; the snow seemed to all melt away. 

 

The Legend of Zelda and characters copyright Nintendo

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