World Tree MUSH

  Kaipo Village is often described as a nowhere along the way to somewhere. The odd traveller might stay at its inn for a night or two, but they always leave. There's nothing here to keep most travellers. That being said, it must be odd to the locals that Rydia's group has stayed, and most of them have been doing odd jobs to earn their keep. Beyond seeing her in town doing various errands, the soft-spoken and secretive 'Sheik' has been a difficult one to track down.

  The enigmatic young woman has held herself aloof from the others, using her own separate quarters, and keeping largely nocturnal to avoid the desert heat. Sheik is almost certainly not her real identity. She acts too much like she has something to hide. Sometimes she's been spotted walking the dunes at night, armed with bow, quiver, and hooded cloak, but for the most part, she keeps her own company.

  Even so, she's been nothing but polite, albeit with an air of distance and distraction about her. She may be listening when spoken to, but her heart and mind are a thousands of miles away. Her plainliness in appearance checks out with her story, of being a handmaiden from Hyrule Castle, but her presence feels like magic; like divinity.

  No handmaiden, this.

  A steady breeze gusts over the sands, carrying a hint of sage. Stars gleam in the vault of the sky. Kaipo's oasis is a gathering place by day, but the villagers leave by nightfall, seeking shelter from the bitter cold after the sun goes down.

  In fact, the only one here is Sheik.

  She's eschewed her riding clothes and her imposing hooded robe for a simple white dress, embroidered in strange, repeating symbols. Her hair is loose but for an elegant braid at each side of her face, woven with white ribbon. She wears no boots. Instead she stands barefoot in the shallows up to her knees. Water darkens the hem of her dress.

  Clutched in the crook of an arm is a harp, wire strings gleaming from the dark. Every so often she shifts her footing in the loose silt, and the way moonlit water ripples around her knees, it almost looks like she's dancing. Her eyes are closed. Slender fingers glide over the strings as she half-hums, half-sings to herself, though the words are unintelligible. The melody is soft, melancholy and somehow hopeful in spite of that; first rising, then falling.

  This is no bard, though: This young woman is not flamboyant enough by half, and certainly she can't be a minstrel with the way she actively avoids attention...

That is when the light appears.

Sheik is not so unobservant as to miss it. In fact, the extra care she takes in maintaining her awareness will ensure that she is not caught unawares by the light. It is a single ball of flame that seems to be riding on top of a curved cane. A cane that which belongs to someone of whom she is familiar.

It is the cane of the Sage. The Sage Tellah.

The old man does not seem shy about using magic for any minor convenience. Every little cantrip and minor demonstration of the arcane arts is a flick of a finger or an uttered word away. If asked, he would likely have been uninterested in finding a lantern. One may wonder if all mages from Mysidia are like this.

Is anyone quite like him?

If Sheik did not want attention, she should have avoided playing harp music closer to the evening. The man's brows are arched over his dark lenses. "You are no bard," he says matter-of-factly.

  The traveller's blue eyes open slowly, but not in the manner of someone surprised. No doubt she had expected someone to investigate, although it's hard to say whether she expected the old man specifically.

  Sheik's fingers never pause over the harp strings. She watches him approach, taking in the flame hovering over the cane with no apparent surprise. He's skilled enough to expect something like that. Magic is also not rare where she comes from. The sudden appearance of floating flame isn't frightening or out of the ordinary.

  The playing is soft, though. It wouldn't do to be impolite.

  "No," she answers, voice soft and gentle. It lacks any of the guarded tones of Sheik, the armed traveller; and she lifts her gaze to study Tellah calmly, almost speculatively. "I am no minstrel, and this is no folk song." Her fingers silence the harp with a touch almost reverent. "And this is no minstrel's lyre, either."

  She lowers her arm, regarding Tellah more directly. "I am sorry. I had not wanted to disturb you. I know of your... difficulties." She inclines her head, jerking her chin toward her harp, illustratively.

"My difficulties," echoes Tellah as he closes the gap between a herald and a conversational tone. The little ball of flame continues to hover over his cane, illuminating the space between them. "I had this irrational scene that the bard had come back to Kaipo," he admits. "I was not inferring that your harp playing was unsatisfactory."

He twists the cane into the sand by his feet, his other hand reaching up to adjust his glasses. "Though it shouldn't surprise you, I had no idea that you played the instrument. How long have you practiced?" He wastes no time in turning the subject back to the woman plucking at harp strings. The old man is always keen to ask of others and learn of them. Almost unerringly so.

  "Unless this bard has business with you, personally, I can think of no reason why anyone would seek out this village. Rydia has described this most humble of villages as 'a nowhere on the way to somewhere.'" The Hylian levels a calm look on the old man, studying him as she does. There is no fear in her eyes, even though he could obliterate her with a gesture; a word. Or, she's just hiding her unease well. "The description is not wrong."

  Turning to face the sage more directly, she takes a step closer, although her weight shifts, probably unconsciously; the same subtle shift of a warrior adopting a more defensive stance. Just in case.

  "I do not need the qualifications of a minstrel." The smile that chases its way across her face is fleeting at best. She tilts her head just slightly, though, eyeing Tellah almost dubiously. "I practise for a different reason. May I ask you a question?" And then, without actually stopping for him to answer, she continues, "Rydia trusts you a great deal. As I trust her judgement, and you have not betrayed us yet... I suppose I should do the same."

  Her head bows, inclining slightly to one side as her eyes close. "Forgive me." When they open, she doesn't look at Tellah directly, gaze averted and eyes half-closed. "I have not been honest with you, although I am aware of your knowledge of that; you have my gratitude for not prying for the answers of questions I was not yet ready to answer. If you wish to ask them of me now, however... I will provide answers as much as I am able."

When Tellah is studied, it gives him an opportunity to study the other person right back. However, the Sage is quick about it and takes a few key details. He wordlessly threads them around a unifying theory in his mind that lays dormant, not unlike the glowing ball of heat above his cane.

His stance is not offensive. It is the patient posture of someone who is not inclined to present themselves as a threat. "If Rydia trusts me, then I consider myself fortunate. She has had a great deal of her life disrupted to a point where she has little reason to trust anyone," he replies, giving his own opinion on the subject. "I shall be judicious with this responsibility."

The disclosure provided by Zelda does give the old Sage some pause. There appears to be more to her than what is seen. Something that he might have theorized, but opted not to voice out of consideration. "It would not be considerate of me to pry, Sheik," says Tellah in that same matter-of-fact tone. "You tell me that there is something you held back from my knowledge. I considerate it a kindness that you would entrust me with some details of which you were not forthcoming, but... does it involve my daughter? The bard? Getting to Damcyan?"

  "It is more a professional respect for who and what you are, but I would consider it the foundation of trust; inasmuch as she can do so." Shaking her head, Sheik clutches her harp a little closer, as though she were drawing comfort from the instrument. "To have lost so much, so young... I do what I can for her. That is all I can do."

  She regards Tellah evenly. "No, Sage Tellah; I am no minstrel, nor am I an itinerant traveller. My name is not 'Sheik.' It is Zelda. I am not a handmaiden of the royal family but a servant of the Goddess Hylia, and a member of the royal family." Zelda lifts her chin just slightly; not arrogant, but dignified. "The last alive, in point of fact. It is hardly an excuse, but you understand my caution, yes...?"

  "I am sorry, but no. I know nothing of your daughter, or the minstrel you say she has taken up with. I accompany Rydia in her errands because she has saved my life, more than once. I accompany you in your errand because I believe in your story, and because I am not heartless." Her smile is faint, fleeting; as before. "I appreciate your impatience. Peace. We will find oru way to Damcyan, and hopefully sooner rather than later. Perhaps, once we are there, I may be of some assistance in some form or another."

"Your Majesty, then," says Tellah, gripping the cane and taking a moment to tip his head. It is not sarcastic nor impudent. It is something that he affords in the small amount of time he has to learn that Sheik--nay, Zelda--is royalty and his account of genuflection is in arrears. He will raise his head, with one thin-skinned hand rising to readjust the glasses that have slid down his nose.

"If I may be so bold, you should already know that you have been of great assistance thus far. From what I can tell, you are helping to reaffirm Rydia's trust in a world of strangers and adults who are following orders. You have helped us fight the Octomammoth. And while I am not as talented as others with divination, I am certain that your command of holy magics will be of great use against the very worst kind of monsters that may darken our path onward."

He reaches with his other hand, plucking the ball from the cane and cradling the fire in his other hand.

  "You needn't bow to me, Sage." Zelda's protest is faint, and she shakes her head with enough enthusiasm to suggest a certain degree of discomfort. What a strange royal, the one who is uncomfortable being shown respect. "As I am now... I am a servant of the Goddess Hylia before I am Hyrule's sovereign. I would not ask such even of my subjects."

  She shifts her grip on the harp, holding it in both arms as though to embrace it over her chest. Moonlight gleams on what little of its strings are visible. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. I think that is too much to ask; I am not certain her trust in others can ever be fully restored, not after what has befallen her. I have lost much, yes? But she has lost everything. She is alone in this world. If I can help her to feel somewhat less alone... than that is enough."

  "Ostensibly, I am the one giving orders, in Hyrule. I was not prepared to, but the Twilight..." She trails off, blinking as he picks up the sphere of flame as though it were carved from stone. Pardon her while she gapes for a few seconds. Magic on that order is present in Hyrule, yes, but it isn't exactly common. It's the kind of elemental control only the great sages would be privy to.

  Clearing her throat awkwardly, she continues. "Anyway... perhaps. It is the least I can do, as I have said. I suppose it must seem strange that I keep company with a Dark Knight, and I will not lie; his blade makes me uneasy, but he is a good man." Her free hand swings out to indicate the inn and the people sleeping in it. She shakes her head. "They are all good people whom terrible things have happened to; one of them by my own actions."

  "I am sorry to have deceived you, but I fear that my trust is likewise not given so easily. I cannot afford to. May I tell you Hyrule's story? It is also my story, and if you will be travelling with us, in my company, than it is also possible that it may become relevant to you."

  ...Huh. Kind of cryptic.

Everyone likes a good story.

Tellah cradles the flame between his fingers as Zelda speaks to a great deal of constructs that have weighed her down. The duty of a sovereign. The challenging juxtaposition of a holy spellcaster keeping the company of Cecil Harvey the Dark Knight. The care of a little Summoner who has lost everything and feels alone.

"You may tell me Hyrule's story, so long as you forgive yourself for this misconceived deception. You omitted some truth, I will not fault you."

It is possible that Tellah is so quick to forgive because he hasn't been forthcoming himself. The old man cradles the fire between his fingers as he waits to hear the story.

  "I suppose the truth is that I don't know who you are, Sage," Zelda states, quietly. "Not really. I cannot speak to your character; of whether you are an honourable man or a knave, or whether something in between the two. I am not often in the business of trusting the character judgement of children, but Rydia has been through enough that her sense of paranoia is what I trust. The lack of it she shows with you is telling, to me."

  "If I did not trust that, I would have said nothing to do with my own nature." A rueful half-smile flickers across her features, and she clutches her harp closer. "I am aware that you saw through my deception. You are an intelligent man, that much observation alone tells me. The obfuscation of the truth was valuable to me, for a time, but it no longer holds value."

  She looks away from him, preternaturally calm blue eyes hooding. "If we are to survive the troubles of this land and mine, however, some trust is called for. Even I understand the value of that, Sage Tellah, and some days I am no more inclined to trust others than Rydia of Mist."

  "Hyrule is the kingdom I hail from and rule. It is similar to this, but we do not lay claim to such technology as airships." Zelda makes her way back out of the water, padding across wet sand and settling at the base of a palm tree. She sets her harp carefully into the sand and draws her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and laying her chin on one white-clad kneecap.

  She issues an abbreviated sigh and closes her eyes. "The shortest possible version is this: Hyrule was invaded seven months ago by the Twilight King, when he usurped both his own realm and mine. He wiped out those within Hyrule Castle and imprisoned me in my own castle. I fled to the World Tree, involved myself in an altercation in another world, and when I was wounded it was Rydia who mended my wounds."

  "We have travelled together since." Straightening, the Hylian lifts her eyes to the moon, staring at it with a falcon's intensity. "She has since saved my life on several occasions, as I have said, and she has earned for herself a permanent place of welcome within my kingdom. I... must return there, someday, and liberate my people... before time runs out for Hyrule. Yet before I can, I must lift the Chosen Hero's curse, with the guidance of my goddesses."

  She continues to stare at the moon as she speaks, as though some truth there were revealing itself to her. "That wolf you have seen attending me is no mere beast. It is the heart of a man beating in his breast, and he is the hero chosen by the goddesses to save Hyrule. His name is Link, and he was cursed by the usurper. The only thing powerful enough to break that curse is the Blade of Evil's Bane... a blade shrouded in myth and legend and history, and forged by my own ancestor."

"You give me too much credit, Your Majesty," says Tellah, continuing to roll the fire between his hands. A shuffle of his hands suggests that he almost /dropped/ the fireball, which seems almost humorous when you consider the possibility that dropping such could be a disaster. Dry robes and open flames are very cooperative. He recovers, and that's what is most important. "I did not notice that there was some farce regarding your identity. I was aware of your magical talent, and I had some sense that there was more to you than what was shared. However, I was willing to accept 'Sheik' as the name you preferred to be called at the time. It was appropriate for what relationship we had yet to foster in such short time."

He listens to the story of Hyrule, and where it has left Zelda. She sounds like a matriarch that has left her kingdom behind. But this is still Zelda, the woman who does not flinch from fear. Not when faced with demonic octopi. Not when faced with the Sage of Mysidia.

"Is that sword bound to be trapped somewhere within your world, the location long since lost? You seem to be on a quest, though you won't fulfill it in our world."

  "Did you not?" Zelda wrenches her gaze away from the moon to focus her attention back on Tellah, arching a brow in understated but clear surprise. That he hadn't noticed something off about heridentity seems to run contrary to her expectations. "I had not counted on the possibility that you had not suspected... admittedly, though, you would must needs be familiar with Hyrule's history to reveal the suspicion in the alias."

  The Hylian shakes her head and continues, slowly, as though she were choosing her words with undue care. "The sword? Not by any means. I know exactly where it rests. The difficulty lies in laying hands on it. The Master Sword sleeps and awaits its chosen bearer in the heart of the Lost Woods. Between ourselves and that blade, there is the Twilight, and the beasts the usurper is hunting me with."

  "In short, I, and by extension those of my allies who are willing to accompany me, will have no choice but to fight our way to the Master Sword." Zelda smiles, grimly. "But I am not prepared to set out for Faron Wood. The repairs at Snowpeak Garrison are unfinished, and as I cannot liberate Hyrule Castle yet, it serves as my base of operations -- remote enough that I do not think the usurper king has suspected it as of yet."