by N Felts
Though it began palm down, indicating his need for help, it has slowly turned upright, subtly asking her to join him. The colossal blaze has surrounded her completely, still slowly consuming all in its path as the noose of fire tightens imperceptibly. Her vision has changed in one other way as well. Clouds of dark crimson gather overhead, their presence dwarfing both the figure within the void, and the wall of fire. She welcomes the clouds at first, her mouth dry as a bone. She can hear the rain begin to fall, closing in from a great distance as her desperate thirst is nearly quenched. The first drops that strike her face are refreshingly cool, but the steadily increasing storm quickly becomes uncomfortably cold. Doubling over and glancing down at her soaked form, her heart skips a beat to find her body and surroundings covered in frigid blood. Jolting out of her daydream, Zelda finds herself in a small backyard behind a moderately sized house. A young boy sits on the steps descending from the back door in a trance, staring at a broken wooden sword resting in his hands. Moving closer, Zelda finds herself unable to get the boy’s attention, his zombie like state obviously not an act.
“Hello?” She greets again. Nothing. Reaching out a gentle hand, she touches the boy’s shoulder hoping to bring him back to reality. The physical interaction sends waves of visions into Zelda’s mind. His father scolds him for his academic failures. The boy threatens to strike a young girl. The other children follow him obediently. He mocks another young boy while prodding him with his sword, and then he is sitting in a stream, rocking himself in the dark. Jumping as if she were a dodongo leaping out of the earth, the boy is excessively startled by the sudden interaction. Curling into a defensive position, he stares at the queen with timid eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” the boy quickly asserts, attempting to regain his composure.
“You’re sure?” She asks, searching for his eyes as they dart about in a paranoid twitch. “What’s your name?”
“I-it’s Rho,” he stammers, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation.
“Hello, Rho. Do you know who I am?”
“Y-yeah,” he nods, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “P-princess. You’re the princess.”
“Zelda will do just fine,” she smiles, still unsure where his nervousness is coming from. “You’re Auru’s boy aren’t you?”
“How do you know him?” He asks, beginning to relax a little.
“How the years have gotten away from me,” she sighs, remembering her early childhood. “Your father tutored me when I was young. Even younger than you. I remember he was very stern, but still a nice man.”
“I guess. My mother says he was easy to get along with once, but then the drought came, and now the war,” Rho reveals, still eyeing Zelda suspiciously.
“I apologize for your family being parted in such trying times,” she starts.
“Yeah,” he sighs, growing distant. “Whatever.”
“That’s not the only thing bothering you,” she infers, reading into his mannerisms. “Is it?”
“You haven’t heard,” he states more than asks, mumbling into his shoulder and beginning to rock himself slightly.
“I’m so sorry,” Zelda quickly blurts out, putting the pieces together. “It was you trapped outside the gates that night wasn’t it? I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.”
“No,” he instantly refuses, shaking his head in a disgusted quiver. “It doesn’t matter,” he adds, speaking under his breath. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Please, tell me what happened,” she pleads, sounding convincingly comforting. “If there’s anything I can do to prevent something like that happening again, I need to know.”
“It was,” he starts, cutting himself off with a sigh. “No one would help. We all screamed for help and no one came,” he declares, quickly growing emotional.
“It’s alright,” Zelda comforts, sitting next to him and attempting to calm him down. “What happened?”
“We were outside when the sun set,” he starts, looking for a questioning glare in Zelda’s eyes. Finding none he continues. “The bridge went up before we could get back. They just kept coming,” he half whines, painfully remembering the events. “Out of the ground, they just kept coming. I tried,” he claims, squeezing his broken sword in his lap. “I fought them, but they wouldn’t stop. Bigger ones came. Bigger than us. Bigger than the guards. I didn’t have a choice,” he declares, unable to maintain eye contact. After a brief period of quiet sobs, he finds the composure to continue. “They took Ona first,” he practically mumbles, the sight of the flailing girl being pulled into the ground flashing through his mind. The panicked children turn to him for answers, but he doesn’t know what to do. “She was screaming. They were all screaming,” he reveals, now on the verge of tears. Child after child wrapped in bony arms and drug down into the earth. “It was only me and Dahn that got away, but there were so many of them. We thought we could jump in the moat to get away,” he continues, recalling Dahn twisting his ankle from the fall. The drought all but drained the moat completely, the sad stream of water only waist high. “He was hurt, and they grabbed him,” he cries, the look on Dahn’s face forever engraved on his mind. The skeletal fingers tear at his flesh as he reaches out for Rho’s hand. Far too terrified to help, Rho can only watch the ghouls pull his friend into the sandy bank, vanishing forever beneath the surface. “They don’t like the water. I stayed in the moat until morning,” he recalls, watching the listless creatures pace the water’s edge until dawn broke, daring the boy to come close enough.
“You poor thing,” Zelda conveys, genuinely empathetic for the boy. “If there’s anything I can do, you need only ask, okay?” Quickly growing reclusive once again, Rho simply stares at the ground, continuing to gently rock himself. “Don’t blame yourself for what happened. You fought bravely,” she adds, but even so the boy is unresponsive. A growing commotion sounds from the square and Zelda realizes the time has come for her speech. The boy has already drifted back into his reclusive trance before the queen can even offer her condolences. “I’m sorry. I must go. Take care of yourself, Rho,” she conveys, wishing she didn’t have to leave him in such a state. Rounding the sizeable house and moving through an alleyway, Zelda stops in her tracks as she detects a familiar presence.
“Damn,” Ashei sighs, dropping into view. “Thought I had you for sure that time.”
“Closer and closer,” Zelda smiles.
“We met up a while ago, but Ash just had to try and stealth you,” Boam explains, rounding the corner and rolling his eyes.
“What did you discover, Linu?” Zelda asks, waiting for him to emerge.
“A boy wearing black visited the Deku Tree yesterday. Couldn’t get any information other than he was suspicious. He came and left without causing any trouble though,” Linu reports, sitting on the second story window sill comfortably.
“Strange,” Zelda murmurs, thinking for a moment. “You’re breathing is improving. Keep at it. Boam?”
“Nothing special on Death Mountain. I did pass a Goron as I was leaving, though. Don’t want to be too assuming, but he looked like a troublemaker.”
“I’m sure the Goron can handle one of their own,” she shrugs, dismissing the notion. Ashei?”
“Several people spotted your hunk ride into town and visit the castle,” she informs with a mischievous smile. “He met with the king briefly before departing. Also a strange man in a fur coat has been frequenting Telma’s bar. She’s keeping an eye out for him and digging around for information.”
“I’ve met the man. His name is Geist. Tell Telma I’ll be very interested in anything she learns. Been working on your chi control haven’t you Sanzu?”
“The concept is difficult to grasp,” Sanzu admits, appearing from behind Boam. “I have critical information for you,” she reveals, focusing on Zelda. “I infiltrated the Gerudo Fortress and witn
essed an execution. Ganondorf has killed the sage of spirit, and beheaded the woman who retained him.”
“Nabooru… No,” Zelda gasps, realizing the king of thieves intends to exact his revenge on those who tried to execute him.
“There is more,” Sanzu declares, directing the second announcement toward the entire group. “Ganondorf met secretly with a woman outside the fortress. I do not know what they plan, but they’ve both eluded me riding hard to the northeast.”
“It would seem he intends to eliminate the sages,” Zelda discerns, thinking out loud. “If this is the case, he will almost certainly head for Death Mountain.” Another audible shout sounds from the assembly and time is running out for the gathering to remain intact. “I must address the people briefly. I want you to hear this too. Afterward, we’ll decide how to proceed.” A collective nod later, Zelda is quickly moving toward the growing audience congregated around the fountain in the square. A cascade of gasps sweeps over the group, virtually none of them expecting Marcy’s rumor to come to fruition. Parting the crowd with a purposeful stride, Zelda hops atop the fountain’s edge, turning to speak to the assembly with Link’s comforting stone gaze upon her. “Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” she starts, waiting for the chatter to die down. “I address you
