Right of Divinity 1/?

[twinkats]

Title: Right of Divinity
Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time
Chapter: One
Chapter Status: Completed
Chapter Focus: Queen Hyrule / Navi / Link
Chapter Length: 10,697 Words
Story Status: In Progress
Summary: The tale has been told a million times, but there had always been something different about the Hero of Time. The Goddesses chose to intervene on his life specifically, but towards what end? There are dark secrets hidden within the royal line descended from Hylia that some want kept in the dark….

Thunder crackled and rain poured down over the battlefield. Soldiers and men gathered around and peered over a map through the rain. King Hyrule spoke of the battle plans with a grim face. This war had lasted years now; Hyrule forced to subdue each of the people who came, some from distant lands and some not-so-distant, in search of the Tri-Force. The land of Hyrule stood beaten and battered. The earth upturned, the ground saturated in magic most foul and magic most holy. The people suffered, and none more so than the King’s family.

King Hyrule glanced to the tent that housed his wife and (their) newborn children, about the only glance he’d spare for them, before he focused back on the map. His advisors pointed out where the enemy forces were situated and the best plan to defend and hopefully counterattack. King Hyrule grasped his sword hilt with a grimace and put his family out of mind.

The rain pattered down atop the leather covering of the Queen’s tent. Inside the Queen picked up her squealing son. Her oldest friend Impa picked up the boy’s twin.

“Hush babe,” she murmured softly. Zelen bounced the boy in her arms and hummed a soft lullaby. “All will be well soon,” she said. Impa peered at her with narrowed eyes as she rocked the child in her arms back to sleep. She stood keenly aware of the tense form of the Queen, and frowned.

“You’ve seen something,” the Sheikah said. Zelda dozed off quickly in her arms and Impa had to fight down a smile as the little babe stretched and yawned and began to lightly snore. Zelda had always calmed and fallen to sleep rather quickly.

“What makes you say that?” the “Queen murmured breathless, her humming becoming just a bit distressed as her son failed to calm as quickly as her daughter.

“You’re tense,” Impa said calmly, walking over to them. “He can sense it.” Impa nodded to the boy. “It’s why he refuses to settle. He knows you are afraid.” Impa settled Zelda into the crib next to the Queen and then reached over for the boy.

“You are not wrong,” the Queen murmured, handing her son over to her friend. Impa began to rock the child gently, humming soothingly as she held the boy up. “I am tense.”

“You were not as subtle as you think, dear heart,” Impa said. “You know you can trust me.”

The Queen began to pace, folding her hands into her skirts as she did so, lips pressed thin. “I know,” she said. “It is just...this is not good news.”

The young prince began to calm in Impa’s arms, and Impa smiled down at the tyke almost sadly. He looked exactly like her boy Sheik would have if he’d lived past the age of one. The same, light, straw colored hair and chubby little cheeks. It made her a little nostalgic.

“I would not expect good news,” Impa told the Queen. “You wouldn’t be so tense if it were good, and war never begets good news. Out with it, Zelen, or you’ll wake your daughter with your worrying.”

Zelen frowned, whipping around with a glare. She stared coldly, almost haughtily at Impa. Impa’s lips quirked up, pleased to finally see her queen there in the form of the worried mother. Perhaps now something will be done and these worries Zelen felt couldn’t be eased. At the smile, Zelen sighed and then turned back round. She twisted her hands; her worries bore down on her once more.

“These...sorcerers,” Zelen said. “The ones who march on us now.” Impa hummed in understanding, Zelen’s son finally drifting off into sleep. “They claim to want the Tri-Force and...they do, but...that is not their true goal.”

“Everyone wants that pretty bauble,” Impa said derisively. “Your fool of a husband should have listened when I told him to keep quiet about it.” She slipped the boy into the crib next to his sister and turned towards Zelen brows raised. “Or do you disagree?”

Zelen shook her head. “No. We wouldn’t be in this predicament of Harron had listened,” she said, lips tugging down, “but that is not what matters. Impa...Impa they want my son.” Impa glanced between Zelen and the boy, surprised.

“The boy?” she said. “Would they not be far more likely after your daughter? Considering your family line, her name….” Zelen closed her eyes and breathed out a slow, steadying breath. Impa found herself itching for one of her daggers in preparation for battle, a sure sign that she would not like this news.

“Impa…” Zelen said slowly. “Dear heart...your loyalty to my family has granted your and yours some privileged information,” Impa narrowed her eyes, “however you do not know of all our secrets. This is one...I would prefer you to not ask me about. They want my son, and I must not let them have him.”

“Why,” Impa said carefully. “If I am to protect you…”

Zelen shook her head. “In this you cannot,” she said sadly. “Please...you know of the good we have done. Do not let me spoil that with darkness.”

“Sheikah exist in darkness,” Impa reminded Zelen softly, “but I will do as you ask and question this no further.” Zelen breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you planning then?”

“I must keep him safe,” Zelen said. “I must...I must leave.”

“When?”

Zelen moved over to the crib and placed one hand on the wood. She peered down at her children and sighed sadly. “Tonight.” Impa glanced at the children and then at Zelen’s pained face. She placed her hand atop the Queen’s.

“I’ll keep watch over Zelda,” Impa said. “I swear this.” Zelen nodded her thanks. “You must promise me that you will return, Zelen.”

Zelen nodded again. “One day, when Link is strong enough, I will return with him.” Impa acquiesced and pulled away. Zelen reached out and quickly grasped her hand and for a moment they stared at each other beside the crib that held two babes, aware there should have been a third to keep an eye on them. Zelen closed her eyes and Impa squeezed her hand in comfort.

“You will take my horse,” Impa said, “you will dress as a peasant. They will not touch a peasant. You will be armed, take my daggers and some of the Sheikah powder, it should help cover your escape if need be.” Impa moved over to the portion of the tent that had been set aside with her tools and trade crafts. She calmly began to put the necessary items into a pack. “You will leave as soon as it goes dark, and do not stop riding. Ride far and fast and only when you are out of danger rest, but not for long, for danger will follow you. Head for the forest, not Kakariko.”

Zelen trailed after her, a frown tugging at her lips, “But Kakariko, Impa, it’s—”

“Do not enter the forest,” Impa told Zelen sharply, “but follow the treeline towards the desert. Before you reach the cliffs you will find an encampment just within the forests edge. Tell them that I sent you.” Impa paused, then added softer, “Kakariko is not safe enough. Those at the forests edge will be safe enough. I trust no other more.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Zelen placed a hand upon Impa’s shoulder, face pinched.

“I’ll pack some clothing for the boy,” Impa said instead, “as well as some provisions. You ride hard and you ride fast, my Queen. Do not stop.” Zelen nodded. “Good. Get changed. I’ll prepare the horse.”

Gathering supplies and changing clothes took barely any time at all. The storm raged on, louder and more violent, as if the goddesses were infuriated by the Queen’s plan to flee. It made Zelen nervous, and it made Impa’s horse nervous as well. The beast whined and jerked against the reigns. Impa tried to soothe it. Zelen clutching her son to her chest; he too seemed discomforted by the noise and the rain, now awake and fussing lightly against his mother’s breast.

Impa helped Zelen get up onto the horse, ensured that the bags were attached and that the horse would listen to her commands. Zelen glanced down at her Sheikah guard and friend.

“Impa…”

Impa looked up, “Ride safe.”

Zelen looked like she wanted to say something more, but instead she just nodded. Impa gave a nod back and slapped the rear of the horse. Zelen took off, bent low in the rain. The camp would not notice her missing until the next day, and by then she should be near safety. Impa slipped back into the tent and moved to sooth the young, now alone, princess. They would see each other again, one way or the other.

 

Zelen urged the horse onwards, pressed low. She glanced down at her son who quickly begun to wail the further and further away from the military encampment they’d gone. The wind picked up around them. It howled and screamed and Zelen fought down a shiver from her spine. The air practically sang with magic, and the little bit of ancient blood within her withered from its fury.

“Hush, babe,” Zelen said softly. She raised one trembling hand to smooth back the tuft of blond hair. “Hush, my little Link. We’ll be safe soon.”

Zelen gripped the reigns tight and urged the horse faster. She could feel the darkness festering in the distance, seeking out her child with a ferocity she had not precisely expected. She didn’t spare a single glance in the darkness behind her towards the camp or the sounds of battle that reached her ears. She drove her horse forward and thought only of Impa’s instructions and the words she hadn’t said.

“It will be okay,” Zelen murmured. “Hush little Link, all will be well.”

In the distance the world began to light up white. It started slow, but quickly turned into an explosion of brightness. Zelen had barely made it to the forests edge, hours of riding in the cold and the wet had numbed her to the passage of time, before a sudden burst of hot, almost burning air forced her from the horse. She went flying into the tree line and crashed into the trunk of a tree. Zelen twisted herself to ensure her son would survive. She thought only on getting the boy to a place of safety. The air cooled and Zelen stumbled to her feet. Her vision swam.

Zelen could see something in the distance. Threats, shadows that come out of the light. Fear gripped at her. Her side back and side burned with pain. She nearly tumbled sideways from it. Zelen glanced down and saw a branch stuck just below her ribs.

“Hush, babe,” Zelen said. Link began to wail louder and louder. “Hush, babe…”

Zelen glanced at the shadowed figures in the light, winced at its brightness. She glanced to the blissful darkness of the forest next and groaned. Zelen thought of Impa’s words, and whispered an apology as she dashed into the wood in an attempt to escape whoever sought her child out. She ran as best she could; tumbled into tree after tree as her wound got the best of. Zelen winced with each movement. She did her best to hush Link as she ran. Link wailed, and wailed, before he finally trailed off into muffled sobs against his mother’s breast. She sung him a lullaby breathlessly, tried to make the trip seem less terrifying and stressful.

The sounds of the rain, the thunder and the flashes of lightning, faded the further into the woods Zelen went. She couldn’t count how long she’d ran, only that Link began to drift into an uneasy slumber and then fell silent. Time passed and Zelen began to stumble to her knees beneath the canopy. Each time she got back up, dizzy and faint, and moved on. She couldn’t feel the rain anymore. The wound in her side no longer hurt.

Zelen tumbled to the ground one final time before an aged, old tree. She couldn’t be certain how she’d gotten there, or how much time had passed. The woods were like that, they tore everything from your memory as careful as could be. She could remember her son. She could remember that she needed to get him to safety. She couldn’t remember why. Weakly Zelen crawled into the trees branches. She curled around her son and cried.

“Keep him safe, please keep him safe,” she prayed. “Please...please keep him safe...keep Link safe….”

Zelen felt herself began to fade and she had enough strength to place one last kiss to Link’s brow, tell him that she loved him, before she finally succumbed to the darkness. She still breathed, shallow, slower. Her breath wheezed and rattled in her chest. She looked like death. The Deku Tree watched all of this sadly in the way a magical tree could. He curled his roots around the child to protect it from the cold as his Kokiri came around to peer at the dying Hylian woman.

“Take the woman to the forests edge...where her people can find her,” the Deku Tree said. “She will not last the night here, but they might be able to save her if found in time.” Four of the Kokiri nodded and carefully pulled the corpse-like Zelen onto a sled and dragged her from the tree’s old roots.

Saria bent down where the Deku Tree had wrapped the child. “What of the boy?” she asked. “He’s human. Are we not to give him back to his people, too?”

The Great Deku Tree rumbled, and said, “No. He would not survive the wait.”

There was a soft murmur of sadness at the thought of any child dying. Saria reached out and picked the baby up from the roots, peering down at his little chubby cheeks.

“Are we to keep him?” she questioned.

“Until he is ready to return,” the Great Deku Tree said, “he shall be raised as Kokiri. So Farore hath said.”

The Kokiri gasped and spoke to each other in surprised whispers, shocked at the knowledge that Farore wanted the human raised among them. Saria however just smiled sadly and nodded at the Deku Tree’s wisdom. She was the oldest of them, the wisest, and the one closest to Farore’s touch.

“He shall be raised as Kokiri until it is time, then,” she said. There was a soft murmur of discontent, but the majority of the forest children nodded. “We’ll keep him safe, like the woman wanted.”

“We’ll make him strong!” Mido said hopping down until he stood beside Saria. “He’ll be a good warrior of Farore!”

“We’ll make him wise,” the Know-It-All brothers said. “He’ll be the wisest human to grow since forever!”

“We’ll make him courageous,” said Fado with a smile. Fado looked to Saria who nodded in agreement.

“We’ll make him into a hero,” Saria said, “befitting of Farore’s blessing.” The Kokiri all gathered around Link who yawned and blinked open his eyes. He stared at them, surprised by the sudden attention. Each of the Kokiri smiled and laughed and Link did so in return. He babbled lightly, his arms reached up at the new faces. Above them, the Great Deku Tree rumbled as the skies thundered their approval.

 

The four Kokiri dragged the woman through the forest and the trees until they reached the edge. They peered down at her. One reached out to touch her skin.

“She’s cold as death.”

Another canted his head to the side.

“Her breathing is weak.”

The third leaned over and stared at Zelen, almost curious.

“She’s so pale.”

The fourth mused allowed to them all, “Is this what death looks like?”

“Does it matter?” asked the first. “We all know she won’t survive.”

“There’s still a chance,” the second countered. “She still lives.”

The third shook her head. “There are no human’s nearby. Look.” The other three turned to peer out at the expanse of the field. In the distance they could hear the sounds of war, see the sight of smoke despite the rain that poured on their heads.

“They are so preoccupied with their war,” the fourth spat. “No one will find her until it’s too late.”

The first and the second stared down at Zelen in pity.

“Should we make her comfortable?” the first asked.

“She’s no one important,” the second pointed out. “Why bother?”

“We’re not savages,” the third uttered. Her face twisted at the thought. “Even if she’s human we should treat her with a kindness.”

“Poor woman,” they all sighed.

Together they tugged Zelen’s body off of the sled. The first folded Zelen’s arms across her chest. The second removed the arrow from Zelen’s side and placed it atop her hands.

“They should know who killed her, at the least,” he reasoned to the others.

They gathered leaves and moss and flowers to make a bed for her. They pillowed her in the softest growth the forest had to give and laid flowers dutifully like a crown above her head. Zelen’s breath grew shallower the more time passed.

“She would we stay with her?” the first questioned. “It’d be a kindness.”

“She doesn’t deserve to die alone,” the fourth agreed, and the Kokiri settled into just the tree line to wait and watch.

It took hours before Zelen’s chest stilled. They couldn’t hear the wheeze of her breath anymore. Her skin looked like snow. The first scampered out and reached out a hand to touch her. Zelen was cold, stiff in death. Her face looked pained, and yet somehow peaceful. The other three came out next, assured when the first didn’t scamper back.

“Goodbye, pretty lady,” the first said.

“Don’t worry about your boy,” the second added.

“We Kokiri will take good care of him,” the third agreed.

“Sleep well among the Goddesses,” the fourth uttered. “May Farore guide your path to the heavens.”

With that the four Kokiri scampered back into the forest and left Zelen behind to be found by the rest of her kind.

 

It took a week before the body of Queen Hyrule was found at the edge of the forest. She looked to be perfectly preserved, nestled in a bed of flowers and moss. The arrow settled atop her matched the wound in her side. The fletching of it held the same colors as the sorcerers who’d recently been repelled.

Carefully, reverently, the soldiers brought back the body of the Queen to the encampment. There were still threats to Hyrule and its borders that needed to be dealt with, but the death of the Queen would lend a hard blow to morale. The encampment itself grew suddenly quiet as the soldiers entered. None dared even whisper about the body the carried between them.

“We should fortify the pass here,” King Hyrule uttered. His face bloodied from the battle earlier. He hadn’t bothered to wash it off, weary and tired, but he soldiered on. “That way no more of the bastards can get through. In case there are any more after the Goddess’ display. Also fortify the desert pass. I want none of those rats to step foot in Hyrule. We have enough going on, we don’t need to deal with them as well now.”

“Sir!” one soldier nodded and raced off to relay the orders, but froze.

“What the hell is it, soldie—” Harron turned. His words died on his lips. “Zelen?” he whispered.

Reverently the scouting party that had found her placed the Queen down before their King.

“We found her outside the forest,” the leader said. “She’d been wreathed in a bed of moss and cared for almost reverently.”

Impa, who stood beside Harron, closed her eyes.

“The forest folk,” Impa said softly, “probably found her within their borders and brought her back out. They’re the ones who most likely made her rest comfortable.”

Harron reached out a shaky hand and touched Zelen’s cheek. “Who did this,” he demanded, voice soft.

One of the scouting party stepped forward and offered the arrow. Harron took it. His lips pressed thin.

"How did one of them get passed our lines!?" he demanded sharply. "Tell me!"

"We don't know sir," one scout said hesitantly. Harron snarled and snapped the arrow in half. He looked back down at Zelen, touched her cheek.

"And what of my son?" Harron demanded.

"We only saw the Queen," the scout replied.

"My King," Impa interjected before Harron could yell again. She kept her voice cool and calm. "Let me do my duty to your family and head up the investigation."

"And who will protect Zelda while you do this?" Harron demanded. "Is that not also your duty? I have one child lost to me, my wife dead, and now you ask I leave the other unprotected? You ask much of me, Impa. How do I know I can trust a Sheikah after all these years?"

Impa pressed her lips thin, but bowed her head in acquiescence. "As you command, my King," Impa said. She turned sharply on heel and headed back towards the Queen's tent. "I shall tend to the Princess while you discuss."

Harron rounded back upon his scouts. "Scour the forests and surrounding areas. Look for my son. I want to know if he was taken or if he's dead. Send scouting parties to the Zora and the Gorons. Someone check Kakariko. Find out what happened and do it swiftly!"

"Sir!"

The scouts tore off through the camp. Harron turned back to his wife again and closed his eyes. He breathed out slow.

"You were always too independent for your own good, Zelen," he said sadly. "What am I to do without you?"

 

Navi peered down at the slumbering child with narrowed eyes and puffed cheeks. She pressed her hands against her face as her legs swung back and forth over the lip of headboard. Her wings fluttered at her back. The boy didn’t appear to be anything special, just another human. Her gaze darted around the house, decorated sparsely but entirely in Kokiri design. The kid twitched, Navi huffed.

“And they want you to be a hero?” she muttered disdainfully. “Once that old ass gets off his roots and assigns you a fairy you’re gonna keel over and die.”

Ever since the strange human child had arrived nine years ago, accompanied by his dead mother, the forest became full of whispers about him between the fairy folk. It didn’t take long before Navi heard the mutterings among her kin and came to watch the boy. The Kokiri supposedly named him Link after some ancient hero. Navi rather doubted they named the child, but then the claims of the child's destiny, the claims that he'd been brought to the peaceful forest by the Goddesses themselves, seemed to lead credence to the idea.

The boy the rest discussed, the supposed Goddess touched human babe, Navi found soundly disappointing. Navi expected some buff, overly courageous, chivalrous human something but what she’d first discovered was a weakling, whining brat bawling for some milk. Navi felt disgusted at the sight. This babe was supposed to be Goddess touched? How disappointing, and yet utterly expected of the immortal beings.

Navi found in her many long years of life that Nayru, Din, and Farore never had the best of ideas. Often their plans went completely awry in some shape or form, and they made the stupidest of decisions. Granted much of Navi's contempt for the three remained personal, but that personal experience said much about the Goddesses practices in the mortal realm. For some reason despite this Navi came back over and over again if only to watch the boy horrifically fail at life. With Kokiri raising him she hadn’t expected him to become much of anything at all.

“They all want you to be the hero of the Goddesses design,” Navi sniffed. She hopped down and climbed across Link’s pillows until she peered at his sleeping face. “A lazy thing like you, become a hero? I’d love to see the day.” She lifted up one of his eyelids and sneered. “Not that it’ll ever happen. Especially not if Farore has her damned way.” She let go of Link’s eyelid and took to the air. For a moment, Navi hung there and just stared at him.

Years ago, when the boy was five or six, Navi began to notice the pattern. Sometimes Link would grow past his laziness, sometimes Link would show signs of becoming the hero that in the years to come Hyrule would most likely need. Sometimes the boy became more aware of things than Navi ever expected him to be. Then, quick as a flash, he’d head into the Woods for some petty reason and come back once more lazy and pathetic. The pattern gave way to a greater, grander scheme in the works, Navi felt. Perhaps only a fairy of her caliber could notice the hidden agenda, or perhaps only she could notice period considering what the Goddesses had done to her.

Navi frowned, and then sighed exasperatedly.

“Maybe this time he’ll listen...” she growled, clenching her fists to her side. With a huff the little fairy turned mid air and took flight towards the Deku Tree. No doubt he expected her.

It’d become somewhat of a routine; Navi would visit Link at night and ruminate upon what a pathetic hero he’d become; ruminate upon the secrets that bubbled up out of the shadows like blood on a battlefield; ruminate upon things that no living soul would admit to anymore because they were all so pathetic. Afterward, fed up with her thoughts and lack of change in the way of things, Navi would head to the Deku Tree and petition to become the boys fairy.

The respond argument remained the same every time.

The Goddesses have their plans, Navi.

A fairy has already been chosen, Navi.

This separation will be for his benefit, Navi.

When the time is right, he’ll have a guide, Navi.

No, Navi.

No, Navi.

No. Navi.

Navi didn't plan to kill the brat. She planned raise him into the hero he needed to be. She’d explained her reasoning time and time again but the aged tree didn't let up. It frustrated her. Navi had never been so completely and utterly unable to affect events like this before. If she’d been herself, been as she was then maybe the Deku Tree would listen to her. Granted if that were so then the Deku Tree wouldn't be the Deku Tree. Navi scowled at the thought.

When Navi finally fluttered into the clearing and settled upon one of the tree's higher branches, it sighed heavily--a rumbling, trembling, tired sort of sound that always dug deep into the marrow of her thin, fairy bones. Her wings fluttered for a moment more at her back before finally laying still as she stepped closer to the Deku Tree’s trunk and placed a hand against his side.

“You know my answer,” the tree said, and it almost sounded sad. “It has not changed all these years. Why do you persist?”

Navi harrumphed and settled down. She crossed her legs and glared over the edge of the branch. The Deku Tree didn’t have a conventional set of eyes, being at it was a tree, but it did know her moods and her expressions almost as well as it knew any of it’s varied children that it guarded and protected. For a moment Navi said nothing. She bared her teeth, sharp and wicked, and then harrumphed again.

“You and I both know that if you follow their asinine plan you’ll have a dead boy hero within a day,” Navi said bluntly. “I’ve told you this time and time again. I’ve told you that what they want from him is not possible. You know what’s being done, and you sit by and idly let it happen!”

“It is not our place to question the Will of the Goddesses,” the Deku Tree uttered, exasperated.

The Will of the Goddesses. The Will of the Goddesses. Oh how far they'd fallen, Navi thought to herself. Once, so long ago, they'd never bother with the blasted Goddesses and their plots and plans. Once, so long ago, they'd do the right thing, maybe cause a bit of chaos on the side. Oh but they'd been to willful for the three fools, too free-thinking. Navi wondered if it was age or helplessness that left the tree like this. She clenched her fists. She hated it, this complacency.

“Oh where is your fighting spirit you old stick in the mud?” Navi shot back with vitriol. “You used to be such fun, lazy bones!”

The tree hummed, and the mere action sent a shiver up Navi’s spine, but it didn’t reply to her words in the way she wanted.

“The boy will be the hero that he is made to be,” the Tree said. “All will be well.”

All will be well? No. Navi refused to listen. She knew better. The damned tree knew better! Navi bared her teeth and let out a chittering sort of growl. Her wings fluttered in irritation at her back and she slammed one fist against the trunk angrily.

“It damn well will not!” Navi shouted. “If you follow through with this what you’ll subject him to will be worse than--”

“Navi, enough!”

Navi fell silent against her will. She opened and closed her mouth in a rather long and tiring rant, face lined with fury. Her wings continued to flutter at her back with her agitation as she clenched and unclenched her fists. Navi glared down at the place where the bark twisted into a faux face.

“No matter what you say, the decision is made,” the tree said sharply. Navi thumped her fist against the branch she sat upon. The tree sighed. “Navi…” it said.

The silence lifted from her, but she didn’t speak. Navi had always been a capricious sort of fairy, and with a sniff she turned her nose up and her head away. He'd silenced her. Oh how she seethed. Once upon a time he'd never have such control over her person. It sickened her.

“I am sorry,” the aged tree told her tiredly. It knew well what it'd done.

Navi turned back around to glare down at him, infuriated. “You silenced me!” She didn't need to say it, but she did anyway with a snarl.

“I had not intended to,” the tree assured her. “It is merely...for nearly five years we have had this argument. The results have not changed. Why do you persist?”

Navi sighed. Her shoulders slumped, and her wings followed suit.

“You know what they did,” she said, toying with the hem of her dress. “I see the same being done to him.”

“Once he leaves the forest, all will be as it should,” the tree told her.

“Not if he has a fairy that will pull him in the wrong direction!” Navi pointed out, eyes narrowed. She sighed, all of the fury finally just draining away a second later. She drew her knees up and stared out among the expanse of forest, lips pressed thin. “Why didn’t you just send him back with his mother. Let the humans handle him. Why follow this farce?”

“There was danger out there. If we had left him to the humans….No, better to keep him safe within the forest.”

“The forest that eats your memories if you aren’t of it, you mean?” Her tone was snide and a bit petulant.

“It was not always so,” the Deku Tree pointed out. Navi buried her face into her knees.

“I know. I miss it.”

“Navi…” the tree rumbled, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a strange sound and an ominous feeling in the air. Navi let out a gasp and scrambled backward. Her wings flapped as she moved to hide behind the branch she’d sat on. Navi's gaze darted towards the sudden encroaching darkness. It felt foul and sick.

“Who goes there?” the tree rumbled. “Who dares enter this sacred grove?”

Navi crouched low, and though she refused to admit it, the skittering and scratching sound that rumbled through the forest as the darkness grew larger and longer sent a shiver of terror racing down her spine. Her wings continued to shift nervously at her back and she dug her fingers into the bark of the branch she clung to. Navi peered over the edge, could see one, glowing bright eye before she let out a sharp gasp and buried her head behind the branch. Her eyes were opened wide and her breath came out in short, horrified gasps. She tried to keep silent.

“What manner of foul beast are you!?” the tree rumbled louder, loud enough that Navi could feel its vibrations and could hear a tremble in the earth.

The voice that reached her ears made her cringe and curl into a ball. It was a hissing, clicking sound that slithered like a dark, thick tar deep into the recesses of her mind. Wrong, she thought. It was wrong, so wrong, completely wrong. Something like this never could have breeched into the forest before. Something was wrong.

It can’t move, what a pity, what a pity….no escape, no escape, the thing hissed, not quite like words but a thought that invaded the mind.

“Begone!” the tree roared. Navi let out a faint whine in the back of her throat.

No, no, no, no, please don’t, she repeated, like a mantra to herself. The only way such a foul beast could have entered her meant outside influence. The Goddesses placed protections--bindings--and they were unbreakable. To have this beast here meant something Navi never wanted to imagine. Not him, not him too, she begged. You've taken everything else, don't take him too!

There was a cry, sharp and loud, and the sound of hissing laughter. Navi clenched her eyes shut. She felt the tree shudder against her, could hear its wheezing gasps and then there was silence. Cautiously Navi peeked her head up over the branch. The glowing, evil eye was gone, the darkness in the woods faded, and yet the \presence lingered like a miasma in the clearing. It felt like sickness in her mouth.

“Old bastard?” Navi asked hesitantly. She tilted her head to peer down at the faux face. “Hey. Hey, you old tree...you okay?”

“Na...vi….”

It sounded sick. Navi’s wings fluttered nervously at her back. She climbed back up on the branch and took a hesitant step towards its trunk.

“Deku...tree?” she asked, nibbling on her lip.

“...na...vi…”

“What’s--what’s wrong?” she questioned, and her hands shook as she moved to place them against the trunk. A dark feeling churned in her gut, and her hands shook harder as they neared the trunk. When she placed her palms against it, she felt electrified. Navi let out a shriek and quickly flew up and away from the tree. She stared at it in horror.

"No, no, no! Oh no, please!" Navi whispered under her breath. Her eyes were wide. She felt frantic. Terrified.

“...na...vi...so...ry…”

“V-Vaati…?” Navi whispered. For the first time in centuries she used the name she’d dared not speak. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, grit her teeth and clenched her fists.

This won’t happen. I won’t let it! she cursed silently. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t, not again--you can't take him from me again!

Navi turned quickly in the air and dashed off. She knew what she had to do, who she had to get. She could no longer waste time to debate the boy’s fate now. His fate had already caught up to him. The Goddesses would just have to deal with her holding at the helm. She refused to let anyone else muck this up.

 

Link shivered. It wasn’t from the rain, or the thunder, or the lightning. There was a dark, oppressive feel to the air and it dug deep down into his bones. He trembled from the force of it, unsure why it left him ill. He'd never felt such a presence before. Link wrapped his arms around himself, rubbed at the bare skin in an attempt to quell the terror he felt. He took a step forward, breathed slow, supposedly calm breaths. This meant nothing, it was just the storm.

“It’s not the storm, brat.”

Link didn’t glance up at her, the one who towered above him. He didn’t bother to respond. It had to be the storm, nothing else.

“Ugh, why do I have to be stuck with you?”

Besides, Link thought to himself, a scowl curled at his lips, she was mean. Fairies weren’t supposed to be mean.

“We aren’t supposed to be large either,” the fairy said. She peered down at him. “Yet here I am, tall as any Great. With wings. Pah.” She tossed a hand through her hair, flinging the red locks to the side. “Now don’t we have something to do, here, brat?”

Link shivered, but nodded his head. The mission, they were here for the mission. Link, for the life of him, couldn’t remember what it was only that it’d been important.

“Well then hurry it up! It’s getting dark out!”

“R-Right…” Link mumbled and started forward once more. He ignored the thunder and the thundering footfalls from beside him. Weren’t fairies supposed to fly?

“Weren’t brats supposed to be less annoying?” the fairy sniped and Link sighed. Around them the storm raged on and soaked through Link’s clothes. He’d pause once or twice to ring out his hat, a useless endeavor given that the rain seemed never ending. They didn’t reach their destination until darkness had fully fallen, lead by the howling of the wolfos off in the distance.

Link cringed.

“Well at least we’re here now although what good that’ll do us I have no clue,” the fairy sighed, and then plopped down cross legged behind Link. Link stared up at the gates before him and wanted to whine. He didn’t want to remain stuck out here, in the rain, with the stalchildren as they came to life, not again.

“Shoulda moved faster, brat!”

“P-Please s-stop,” Link mumbled, clenching his hat between his hands tightly. The fairy grinned, teeth lined like razors and Link cringed back. He tightened his grip on his hat.

“If I didn’t yammer at you then you’d never learn a goddess damned thing,” the fairy pointed out. “Now pay attention. This one’s important.”

“W-What--” Link didn’t get any further out as behind him the gate began to clang open. Chains rattled as the bridge drew downward. The lightning flashed and thunder boomed timed when the bridge crashed down. Link turned. Above them swirled a miasma of clouds, dark as the chill in Link’s bones.

Lightning flashed again, and the thunder boomed loud overhead. For a moment there was silence, and then Link could hear the thundering hooves of a horse. He barely had a chance to register the horse as it raced down the path. A woman gripped the reins tight and a young girl in royal dress peered over at him with wide, terrified blue eyes.

They were gone with another flash of lightning and a boom of thunder. Link shivered, starred at where they had been. Another flash, another loud rumbling of the thunder in the distance, and then there was another set of hooves. These hooves thudded in time with Link’s heart. Link trembled as he turned to look at this newcomer that raced out the gates.

He saw eyes, evil, burning eyes that peered down hatefully from a demonic like horse. There was laughter, cackling high and cruel. Link yelped and stumbled backwards as the thunder boomed and lightning flashed all around him. The fairy leaned over him, peering down with glowing yellow, pupilless eyes, her lips pulled back into a grin. Off in the distance a cuckoo warbled.

“Hey! Hero! Wake up!” the fairy shouted.

Link tumbled off of his bed and crashed into the wooden floor of his home with a grunt and a flail of limbs and blankets. Above him floated Navi, her hands on her hips and her lips pursed as she huffed, annoyed, at the graceless display. Link couldn’t see her, not her hands on her hips, or her lips pursed. To regular humans fairies appeared as nothing more than glowing balls with wings. Navi glowed a particularly different shade of pale blue to Link’s eyes.

“About time! Wake up, you brat! Come on! Get out of those blankets! There’s important work to be done!”

Work? Link stared dazedly up at Navi who floated around his head angrily. She growled, huffed again, and began pulling on his shirt in an effort to get him moving.

“Aren’t you listening? Move it! You don’t have time to be lazing about! Come on, get up! The Great Deku Tree needs to see you now!” Navi huffed and grunted. She got Link a full two inches off of the ground before she let go. The strain left her breathless and she almost collapsed onto his collar.

Link scooped her up into his hands gently and climbed to his feet.

“A-Are you o-okay?” Link asked so quiet that he spoke in a whisper.

Navi let out a yell of frustration and burst out of his hands. She kicked and batted at his head, trying to force him out of the tree home.

“You don’t have time for this you stupid lazy brat! Move it! We have to get to the Great Deku Tree now!” Navi pushed at Link. The young boy stumbled out of the front flap of his home, lost his balance on a protruding edge of the upper deck, and tumbled over the railing with a yelp. Quickly Link curled himself up into a ball, and once his back hit the ground, uncurled and rolled himself over.

Navi peered down at him from the railing with a muttered, “Oops.”

Link pushed himself up and got to his feet. He dusted off his knees as he stood up and kicked his boots lightly against the earth. Navi fluttered down to float by his head. She still practically vibrated with annoyance. Link ducked his head out of nervousness and turned to head up the path from his home. They walked in mostly silence, Link’s shoulders slouched and curled inwards, with one hand stuffed into his deku seed pouch. He toyed with the seeds within absentmindedly. The other hand clasped at his belt.

“Quit slouching,” Navi snapped. “It’s pathetic.”

Link glanced up at her, and then straightened slightly.

“Better. Hands out of that pouch, brat, you look distracted,” Navi huffed as Link hastily moved to comply. “Good.” Navi geared up to say something more when Link came to a sudden halt. Down the path stood Saria and a smile lit upon Link's face. Saria, his closest friend. He completely missed Navi's hissed, "Perfect," as he jogged towards the Kokiri girl.

Saria raced up the path and met Link halfway with a smile. Her own fairy floated beside her, twittered happily in greeting. Saria clasped her hands together and and cheered, “Happy birthday, Link!”

"Th-Thanks," Link mumbled, cheeks flushed red.

"What are you going to do today? Shall we head to our secret place?" Saria asked, her lips quirked into a secretive smile.

Link opened his mouth to respond when he gained a face full of fairy glow. Navi shoved at his forehead and twittered angrily.

"We don't have time for this, lunkhead!"

Saria gasped at the sight. Her hands quickly came up to her face to hide a grin on her lips. “Oh, Link! Is that a fairy?” she asked. Saria leaned forward, curious. Her own fairy twittered excitedly, too. Both of them knew that when Link gained a fairy then the moment had finally come. Saria couldn’t stop the pleased laughter from bubbling up.

“Y-Yeah,” Link stuttered out, taking a quick step backwards. Link didn't even know her name, really, and floundered for what to say to Saria next. He'd never been in a situation like this before. Thankfully Navi grabbed his collar before he could say anything and dragged him off down the path as best she could.

“Sorry we gotta go the Great Deku Tree wants to see us right away!” Navi yelped. Something in her sounded strained. Link wondered if the fairy was okay as he turned to wave goodbye to Saria.

“Bye Link! I’ll see you after your meeting the the Great Deku Tree!” Saria hollered after him, waving back.

Navi dragged Link around the corner, let go with a heavy breath, and then hit him on the head repeatedly.

“Stop staring gaga eyed at the Farore-touched girl and get moving brat! We really have to see the Great Deku Tree now! We don’t have time to waste!” Navi cried. Link glanced down at her and then squared his shoulders.

For a moment Navi could see the hero within him. Link nodded sharply, said a soft, “R-Right,” and started down the path. Navi didn’t have to say anything to spur him onwards, he walked through the village town and towards the entrance to the sacred grove all on his own, head held high. For a moment Navi had the thought that perhaps this wouldn’t be such a chore like she’d first thought.

For a moment Navi forgot that this was a Goddess ordained test.

 

Mido stood at the ready in front of the entrance to the grove that housed the tree. Navi hadn’t realized that the Kokiri were so organized in regards to testing Link. The Deku Tree had been attacked barely an hour ago and they were already gearing up to test their little boy hero? Navi clenched her fists in Links hat and grit her teeth. She wanted to scream!

“A-Are you o-okay?” Link questioned. He slowed down and tried to glance up at her.

Navi rubbed at her eyes and spat out a sharp, “No!” Link jerked in surprise. "Nevermind. Just go talk to the damned boy."

Fairies, Link figured, were confusing. He shoved his concern aside and walked towards Mido with all the false bravado he could muster. Mido liked bravado. He often pushed Link towards acting more like a man. This should, Link figured, please him.

Mido was not pleased. He turned his nose up and sniffed at Link distastefully. "What do you want, fairyless boy?" Mido demanded. Link felt himself wilt slightly under the disdainful stare.

"Th-The Great Deku Tree s-summoned me," Link stuttered out.

"Yeah right!" Mido sneered. "Why'd he summon a brat like ya?" The Kokiri rubbed at his nose. "Worthless kid."

"B-But I h-have a f-fairy!" Link stuttered out. He reached up to grab Navi who let out a yell of protest at the sudden manhandling. Mido stilled, peered at the fairy, then sneered again.

"Ain't no way ya gettin' passed here without a sword n' shield," Mido harrumphed with a triumphant grin. "I've been tasked to make sure no one gets passed without being properly armed! It's a great honor!"

Link bowed his head. "O-Oh. Okay. I-I'll do that, then," he said, and then turned around sharply. Navi bit his hand as he walked away. Link let her go with a yelp as he moved toward the grass.

“Horrible child!” Navi shrieked, and then darted to hide under Link’s hat. Link sighed. He quickly put the rupees he found into his pouch, counted the number to be certain he had enough to purchase a shield at the shop. He could feel where Navi curled up in his nest of hair. Her wings fluttered against the top of his head.

“I-I’m s-sorry, fairy,” Link mumbled and tugged his hat down a bit. He got up, patted off his knees, and raced down the path towards the shop. It wasn’t too far away, and required a few hops from trunk to trunk around the small lake of water until he reached the shop at the center.

The shop stood tiny and quaint with a thatched roof made of straw and grass. A simple cloth settled for the doorway, like the door to Link’s tree home, and its structure appeared to be built out of the stump of an old tree. Link ducked inside and pulled up his rupee pouch. He glanced at the simple wooden shield, price, and quickly counted out what he needed.

“That’ll be the shield then?” the young Kokiri shopkeeper asked with a cheery smile. “Got important business then, Link?”

Link nodded sharply as the shopkeeper handed over the shield. He quickly strapped it into place at his back and adjusted his hat, lightly, attempting to check on Navi. Navi slammed her hands into his head and Link winced.

“Man, and without a fairy?” the shopkeeper pried. Link’s head jerked up in surprise.

“N-No! I. I have one! Sh-she’s just...resting,” Link mumbled. The shopkeeper’s smile widened.

“Really? Wonderful! Is that all?”

Link’s cheeks reddened and he scuffed his shoe into the floor.

“D-Do you k-know wh-where I could f-find a s-sword?” Link mumbled. “It’s-s k-kinda imp-portant.”

“Oh yes, yes,” the shopkeeper nodded, seemingly unaware of how nervous Link appeared to be right then. “You know that silly old training field we had closed off? Well there’s one back there, somewhere. I’m sure you’ll find it!”

Link nodded sharply, waved to the shopkeeper, yelled, “T-Thanks!” and darted out the door.

 

Link stared at the danger sign in trepidation. The path to the training field had been barred for as long as Link could remember. The only entrance that remained was a small crawlspace, big enough for a Kokiri to get through on their hands and knees. Link sucked in a breath. Be brave, he reminded himself. Saria always told him how brave he was. Link never understood why she insisted so, but he rolled with it anyway.

With trembling hands Link got down onto his hands and knees and began to crawl through the small tunnel. In some places the tunnel seemed tight and restricting. It brushed against his arms and squeezed at his sides. The shield banged against the top, a steady thunk of wood on wood. The passageway went on for what felt like forever before Link could see light at the other end. Only when he'd fully crawled out did Link breathe a sigh of relief.

Link climbed back to his feet, dusted off his knees and his boots, checked his pouch and his slingshot, and then looked up at the training fields. His brow furrowed. This looked like some sort of maze. Cautiously Link stepped forward and glanced at the sign.

"Beware of rolling boulders?" Link mumbled under his breath. He canted his head to the side. "W-What does that m-mean?"

Perhaps the sign stood there as a joke, or a way to warn off strangers. The Kokiri couldn't have set up anything dangerous. They were a peaceful lot, not fighters or warriors. Link reminded himself of his peaceful breathren and laughed nervously. Yes, it had to be a joke. He took an almost blind step forward and glanced from side to side. The walls stood up high and formed a single corridor. He could see a turn at either edge and in the distance heard some sort of rumbling sound. Link frowned.

"What...?"

The rumbling grew louder, followed by a deafening crash. Link jerked to the side and raised his shield, eyes wide and breathing heavy. He stared for a moment at the stilled, round boulder that had crashed into the wall. Then it began to roll, slowly at first, before gaining speed right down the path at Link.

"OH FARORE!" Link shrieked and booked it. He ran as fast as he could, stumbling when his feet didn't quite listen and nearly tripped over himself. Link remained intensely aware of the rock behind him. He took the corner at a slide and bashed into the wall before racing down the straight corridor before him. He could hear the boulder tumbling along, crash into the wall, and then continue to tumble.

Inside his hat Navi clutched at his hair. His racing about felt like one wild, neverending ride. She wondered just what nonsense the Kokiri had cooked up. So far as she'd observed Link had never yelled like that. Her world tilted sideways suddenly and she went tumbling from Link's hat, rolling to a stop against a wall.

Link had stumbled. He'd rain straight and then finally tripped over his own two feet and bashed his head into the wall. The boulder fast approached and with a whine Link scrambled backwards. He hoped his death would be quick and he clenched his eyes shut once his back it a wall. He heard the boulder get closer, felt the ground vibrate beneath him. He heard the crash, and then the sound of the boulder tumbling away.

Cautiously Link opened his eyes. Beside him Navi shook her head and got to her feet. She flew upwards once she'd reoriented herself. Link shook, face pale, small beads of sweat soaked his skin. He'd gotten a lucky break, crawling into an alcove, a safe haven. Link almost felt catatonic, his breath short and his heart racing with adrenaline. What kind of nonsense was this training field?

Link didn't want to know.

"Hey, look," Navi spoke up. She sounded like she'd forced calm into her voice and Link glanced at her glow. When had she left his hat? Had he squished her? "A sword." Link glancd passed Navi's bright light and saw a sword settled into the wood. A sheathe lay next to it and a wooden signpost exclaimed it to be the Kokiri sword.

"I-It says not to remove it," Link stuttered.

"You need a sword," Navi snapped back. "Just...borrow the thing."

"Borrow?" Link questioned, peering at the blade. He didn't know a blade from a stick, to be honest, but it looked shiny and recently sharpened. Link worried about cutting himself.

"Yeah, you know, you just borrow something from someone without intending to return it," Navi replied condescendingly. Link felt pretty sure that the definition of borrow she'd given him was false. Still, he needed a sword.

Link resolved to return the sword later, pulled it free, sheathed it, and slung it over his back with the shield. Now that he had the sword he could speak to Mido. Link glanced at the sky. Barely a half hour had passed since he first talked to Mido. Funny how it felt longer and shorter in equal parts. Link sucked in a breath.

"Well come on, we have to go!" Navi snapped out, impatient. She tugged at Link's tunic. "Stupid. Pantsless. Hero!"

"I-I'm not a h-hero," Link stuttered, but allowed her to pull him forward. He almost missed the rumbling of the boulder until he saw it out of the corner of his eye and quickly flailed backwards. He watched the rock crash into the wall and continue down its path. Link breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Huh," Navi muttered. "Might want to chase that. You'll be crushed otherwise."

Link swallowed and quickly ran after the rock. Maybe it went in some sort of particular pattern and he could reach his exit just behind the thing? Navi's suggestion at least seemed to hold merit. The running left Link breathless as he chased the rock down one corridor, paused as it crashed into the wall, and then chased it down another. He took a second turn before he saw the tunnel he'd crawled out of. With frantic movement, how could he know if a second boulder existed somewhere in this insane place, Link got down on hands and knees and crawled through the space.

This time he could hear the hit of the blade scraping against the wooden ceiling of the tunnel. Link winced. He sure hoped no one noticed the damage if the sword turned out to really be some sort of Kokiri heirloom. Thankfully Navi dutifully lit his way back to the entrance and Link emerged into the familiar sight of the Kokiri village with a breathless sigh. Link settled back onto his rump and tried to catch his breath. For the first time in his memory he wondered at his Kokiri brethren. Why would they build such an insane thing as that?

"Oi, brat! We have to move!" Navi snapped out. Link sucked in a breath and nodded. He got to his feet, the grass beneath his boots crunching. Link paused.

Crunching? Link looked down, and suddenly he felt like the world pulled out from under him. The grass, meant to be bright and shining, a healthy green, instead sat ugly and dying. Why is the grass dying? The Great Deku Tree kept everything in the grove safe for the Kokiri. Fruit would always grow, grass would always be green, trees would form to create homes, waters always ran...dead grass should not exist.

"I said we have to move!" Navi yelled and Link jolted, nodded, and started off for the entrance to the Deku Tree's grove.

Link shifted continually as he walked. The weight of the sword felt odd, nestled between his shoulder blades. It felt official and serious in a way Link couldn't name. The trial of the training ground, the shield, the sword, the dying grass. Everything. Everything was wrong. Navi, as Link walked, ducked back under his hat. She tugged on his hair when he didn't walk fast enough.

Link wondered what could be so wrong that she’d be such in a hurry for him to see the aged tree over anyway. It’s not like he wasn’t excited. He had a fairy! And he was being called to see the Great Deku Tree! It was an honor for a young Kokiri. The grass, the training field, the shield, the sword--it niggled in the back of Link's mind. It made him wonder if something else was going on. His stomach churned with nervousness.

Link adjusted the sword strap again. After a particularly harsh tug from Navi he took off at a run for Mido and the entrance to the sacred grove. Link darted around other Kokiri who waved and cheered him a happy birthday, past house after house as he raced through the streets of the forest village. When he finally came upon the high mountain wall that blocked the rest of the village off from the sacred grove Link skid to a halt.

This time Mido appeared to be snoozing, leaned against the edge of the wall with his spear in hand. His own fairy appeared to be sleeping next to him, and for a moment Link was confused. Wasn’t Mido supposed to be guarding the grove? Why would the older Kokiri slack off like this? As far as Link understood the job to guard the grove, granted to a Kokiri, stood as high an honor as getting to see the tree.

Navi peeked her head out. She sighed, “Oh good the boy-jerk’s asleep. Get going! We’ve wasted enough time!” She slammed her hands down on his head and Link closed his eyes. That hurt.

Eventually Link shrugged and moved to run past Mido and down the path. He barely jerked backward into a stumbled flip in time to avoid the spear smacking him in the face. Mido stood alert and peered down at him with that one haughty smirk he sometimes wore that made Link’s blood boil.

“I thought I said ya couldn’t pass ‘less ya had a sword ‘n shield fairyless boy!” Mido sniffed. He rubbed at his nose with one hand and peered down at Link. “Now I don’t see no...sword…” Mido glanced over the Kokiri sword Link pilfered from the training grounds, “...shield…?” and then over the Kokiri shield he’d bought at the store. “Maaaan, you work fast! It’s only been what? An hour? Ugh.”

Link wanted to say it hadn't been that long, but kept his tongue. Mido dug the butt of his spear into the ground and huffed. He waved a hand negligently to the side and looked away from Link with a sound of frustration.

“Ya better go ‘fore Saria yells at me ‘cuz I’m keeping ya. Sheesh.”

Link grinned. “Thanks Mido!” he said and quickly darted past Mido before the other boy could say anything.

Link slowed to a jog the further down the path he walked. His gaze darted toward the wilted grass and the darkened sky. He clenched at his hat, and then carefully drew his sword and his shield as Navi popped out and floated insistently ahead of him.

“Hurry it up lazybones! Goddesses do you have to be so damned slow!?” Navi growled, tugging at her hair in frustration.

“I-It’s not r-right,” Link mumbled. He peered at the grass. “E-Everything--”

“We don’t have time for your sightseeing, come on!” Link glanced up at Navi and nodded. He picked up the pace and in short order entered the grove.

The grove didn't look like Link ever imagined it. There were vines and some sort of dark plants growing up and around the tree. Link felt petrified at the sight. The air felt stale and heavy and the silence unnerved him. In front of him Navi seemed to come to a dead stop too, a horrified little gasp escaping from her in surprise at the state of the grove.

“W-What’s g-going on?” Link asked. “F-Fairy?”

“This is worse than I…” Navi clenched her fists. “Come on, brat! There’s not much time left! You have to save the Deku Tree!”

Navi darted into the growth, leaving Link to scramble after her confused.

“S-Save the D-Deku Tree?” Link yelped, his voice steadily rising above a whisper. “W-What’s g-going on?! I-I’ve never even m-met the D-Deku Tree!” He shoved branches and vines off of him as he crawled through the only visible space after Navi.

“I’ll explain later, we don’t have much more time to act! Now come on!” Navi yelled. She sounded frantic, so Link raced after her. He pushed and shoved the vines out of the way until there were no more vines to push. Instead the ground seemed to give way and Link tripped, fell into a roll that seemed to go on forever. Eventually he landed flat on some sort of strange sticky webbing that covered a hole that lead down, down, down….

Link shrieked and scrambled backward, breathing heavy. He got to his feet. His hands shook as he held the sword and shield. Link found himself in a strange hollowed out place. He could see a gaping, open archway of some sort that looks like it’d been carved out of the trunk of a tree. The walls around him reminded him of the inside of his home. Wooden, hollow, stump-like.

Link could hear the sound of shuffling and a scratching noise he didn't recognize. Vines swung about the entire space. They twisted and turned almost as if they were alive. There were lit torches settled around the place. Link wondered if they were magical in nature. The entire place looked like one of the dungeons Saria described in her stories. Link swallowed heavily. That couldn't be right, could it?

“F-Fairy?” Link squeaked as Navi circled the room and then came to a rest beside him. “W-What happened?”

“Dark magic,” Navi said softly. “I just didn’t...expect it to have spread so far.”

“W-Where’s the Deku T-Tree?” Link asked, getting to his feet.

“This is the Deku Tree,” she sounded sad, despondent. “It’s just….” she whined and pulled at her head. “It’s all wrong. Ugh. You stupid bastard!” She whirled around and screamed at nothing. “I told you! I told you they didn’t care and you still—! Goddesses damn you!”

“F-Fairy…?” Link took a hesitant step towards Navi and scooped her up. “H-Hey...there’s still time, r-right?”

“Time?” Navi mumbled. “Yes. Yes.” She floated up out of Link’s hands and then tugged at his shirt. “I got to you in time. Now come on! We have a stupid aged tree to save, brat!”