World Tree MUSH

  It should come as no surprise that the night sky of Snowpeak Garrison is a breathtaking sight, one that can't be seen anywhere else in Hyrule. The air is painfully clear over the heights. Stars gleam fever-bright, and from time to time, the undulating colour of the borealis ripples across the curve of the sky.

  ...The scenic battlements aren't where Princess Zelda is, because it's acutely and uncomfortably cold outside at night, even in summer. There's still snow on the ground in July. Deep snow. The only difference between summer and winter here is about ten feet of snow. In summer, the roads are manageable. In winter, they're a death trap.

  So, Zelda is not out on the courtyard. She's in a lower room of the castle, frowning as she carries a candle and steps lightly around all the dilapidated junk. It used to be a storeroom, but it looks like nothing in here was stored well, and the door had been jammed until now. It's mostly dark, and the shapes of various crates, barrels, boxes, and canvas-draped piles of things can only barely be made out.

  True, she probably should have had somebody else with her when she opened this door, but the inherent desire to safeguard the others without regard to her own safety was, as usual, too insistent to ignore.

  Sometimes she chooses to speak with the others telepathically, like when she needs help with something and they're on opposite ends of the citadel. That's exactly how she reaches out to Terra, tonight.

  It's a little like staring into the sun. Zelda's mind is not gentle, and it is not quiet. She is an incredibly intelligent young woman who spends most of her waking hours turning over some problem or another in her mind; she is in her world the very embodiment of wisdom, of mind. Knowledge and secrets are her dominion.

  She at least has enough foresight to provide Terra directions to the cellar from the main hall.

    The stars are quite a sight. It's an easy thing to lose track of time as dusk comes, darkness creeping over the world as the sun slips out of sight. What's more, contemplating the meaning of an aurora without the hard understanding of how charged particules interact with magnetic fields and such tends to lead one to distraction.

    Luckily, Terra is ever so slightly more resistant to the bitter cold. Being a magical creature imbued with the power of fire is pretty nice, sometimes.

    It'd be nicer, probably, if she had any clue in the first place.

    Oblivious of Zelda's literal and figurative prying, or really any of the world beneath her upturned nose, the half-esper emits a brief note of surprise at Zelda's summons. Whatever commune with the universe she was having over, her body stops radiating that convenient, sustaining heat and she shivers.

    "..." Was she close to something just now? Rather than feeling annoyed as she makes her way along the provided path, she manages to feel guilty for not being closer when her host needs something done.

    Beholden, much?

  The summer is a beautiful season on the mountains. Though cool even in summer, the snow usually melts by July, and by August the alpine meadows will be a riotous jumble of wildflowers. The world will be forlornly cold and frozen for only a few weeks more. Already there have been signs of running meltwater, further down the mountain.

  By the time Terra tromps down the stairs and finds the one who had summoned her, Zelda has her back bowed and she's dragging a rather heavy-looking crate away from the corner of the room. Her teeth are bared in exertion. The thing is making all sorts of ungodly screeching, scraping noises as she tries to brute-force it over the grooves in the stonework.

  Those grooves run strangely. They're too straight. It almost looks like there might be a hatch doorway concealed in the masonry.

  "Thank you, Miss Branford." Zelda huffs slightly as she tries to catch her breath. Her robe's been slung over a canvas-covered pile of junk; she's also cast off her riding jacket, leaving her in a tunic whose sleeves she's rolled up past her elbows, riding breeches, and her regular walking boots. Her hair's been thrown into a messy braid to keep it away from her face, but the ends keep trying to escape, and the sides keep escaping and fluttering into her face.

  The Hylian tries to catch her breath for a moment. Once she does, she pushes herself up to perch on the corner of a crate. Decorum occurs to her only belatedly in her moment of enthusiasm.

  "Oh." Concern flickers across Zelda's features. "I wasn't interrupting you, was I...?"

    It's hard to imagine it's already time for that again. Time seems to be running incredibly slow, though perhaps that's just a quirk of retaining almost no memory from her prior life. Terra shakes off the weird, wistful feelings and presses on out of the cold. To the stairs!

    Her footsteps, though light, do have a certain measured pace along with the distinct tapping of her own boots falling upon the stonework. When she appears, she lingers in the doorway for a few beats before stepping through and into the room.

    Zelda's apparent work confirms her earlier feelings and she worries her hands together. She could just be rubbing away the cold, too. Regardless, she takes in the scene quickly and strides forward even as her cohabitant commits to a bit of a respite. Rather than climb onto the crate as well or anything, she glances over the crate, the floor, then the Hylian princess.

    The question gets a shake of the half-esper's head, "I was outside. Looking at the lights." She points up, as if that might reveal all. "Have you found something? What should I do?" At least she didn't finish that by apologizing!

  Time is a funny thing, slipping too fast through the fingers of some, and slowing to an insufferable crawl for others. Zelda has also been impatient, lately. With snow still on the mountain, she's been unable to travel for fear of the blizzards and drifts. Peak Province is a harsh and wild land that will not hesitate to kill the unwary traveller.

  Zelda drums her fingers on the crate she's perched on, frowning thoughtfully as she half-listens. Terra's answer is laconic, as expected.

  "I look at them, too, when I'm not busy." The Hylian half-smiles. "But I have too much to do. There are things I need to do before I can liberate my kingdom. I would be an unwise queen if I were to ignore the plight of my allies, the Zora, and the Goron... I will need to travel to Zora's Domain to see what has become of Queen Rutela, and why rumours suggest the Gorons are refusing all visitors at their borders."

  She reaches up to rub at her face, sighing. "Have I found something? Yes. I believe I have. I cannot say what it is." Zelda flicks a hand in gesture to the deep grooves in the stonework, before adjusting the rolled cuff of a sleeve. "A door to nowhere. There is a copy of Snowpeak Garrison's blueprints in the library, but this is not in them." The young woman with the ancient eyes shakes her head. "It makes me uneasy..."

    Someday, time may even be an inscrutible blur to some. Lucky most never suffer long enough to reach that point. Terra catches her mind as it wanders, fleeting thoughts wondering if even mountains grow curious about the sky. Headshake. "Right, sorry." And this is why she gets to feeling like she does! She just can't help but compare herself to others.

    "A door to nowhere?" Curious, she leans slightly to one side to have a look past to where the old crate must have lain for an age. Stonework makes sense to her up to a point, though the finer details of structural engineering aren't hers to ponder with any sure chance of accomplishing anything.

    "Are you going to open it?" Evidence suggests an affirmative but she can only venture. She has no idea how it may be done, afterall, though she supposes she can at least help push crates. More interesting to her, though...

    "Zora? Goron?" While she may have seen or heard a thing or two in passing, it's never an unpleasant experience to learn things. For goodness shakes she probably knows more about her adoptive world than the one she fled by now. That, too, issues a pang of inexplicable guilt.

    Perhaps hearing tales of other people will ease her mind and ease the coming work as well?

  "I can only assume it leads to nowhere. The blueprints suggest solid stone." Zelda pulls one leg up to fold it beneath herself, resting the heels of her hands over her ankle. "My personal guess is that this was meant to serve as some kind of vault. There may be valuables in there... if that's the case, all the better. I'm afraid the kingdom's treasury is hardly bottomless, right now..."

  She gives the crate a thump with the heel that still dangles. "Some of this might be salvageable, but it seems most of this rotted away, especially the leather goods. Pity, really. Some of it could have been useful. Those larger crates over there, those might have been weaponry. That large one in the corner was armour." A crowbar and a broken corner suggest she had a peek herself.

  "No." She's not going to open it. The princess shrugs, looking annoyed for a fleeting instant. "The hinges are caught fast. No one will be opening this door, short of a Goron metalsmith." Her gaze slides back to the grooves and the suggestion of a hatchframe. She taps her chin with a delicate forefinger. "I suppose it will have to wait until after I have addressed those particular problems..."

  Zelda looks back over to Terra at the questions. Oh, right, this is not a native of the kingdom.

  "The Goron and the Zora Tribes. They have been Hyrule's allies since its antiquity, although both realms have been silent since the coup. I tried to contact Queen Rutela, of the Zora; she has not responded to my questions or my pleas. The Gorons are refusing all visitors to Death Mountain, and that is just as worrying. It is unlike them to turn inward."

    "Mmm." Terra has no insights as far as architecture is concerned, nor any suggestions about stuck hinges or inscrutible locking mechanisms. The half-esper doesn't quite frown, though she does feel concerned that Zelda is concerned!

    Valuables or no, if the door won't open there's not much sense worrying about it. "Mmm." She touches the crate, managing a neutral face while regarding it. There's no telling what's all down here, as far as she knows anyway, so she can only do the most basic of things and just check everything!

    She eyes the crowbar, already considering how she might go about dismantling each container as unobtrusively as possible. Probably going to take a while, too.

    "Mmm. Death Mountain?" Sounds kind of ominous- so much so than this treacherous peak that she worries it's considerably more inhospitable. If it's home to allies, though, can it be all bad? She'd suggest checking in on them in person but, well, that's not really her place. Instead...

    "How far away are they?" It is almost time for the mountain roads to clear, right? Perhaps a visit is in the cards, or perhaps she shouldn't entertain dangerous thoughts. Indecision, as usual, plagues the young woman.

  "South of here," Zelda clarifies, as regards the mountain. "It's the ancestral home of the Goron Tribe. They've lived there since time out of mind. Most of the time, they welcome visitors, but news of their sudden refusal of visitors is concerning." She shakes her head. "I have known their leader, Chief Darbus, since my earliest youth. The same can be said of Queen Rutela."

  Sighing, the Hylian hops down from the crate, dusting off her leggings and taking up her riding jacket, shrugging into it, and folding her familiar hooded robe over her arm. She looks tired in that instant as she regards the hatchframe door.

  "I sense something in there. I don't know what, yet, but it makes me uneasy," she murmurs, shaking her head. "I suppose we'll find out in time what it is. I was going to have you accompany me down there, to have a quick look around... but that was before I found out the door was stuck."

  The Hylian shifts the robe over her arm. "How far? Death Mountain is a few days' ride south of us, down the mountain, in Eldin Province. It lies below Snowpeak Garrison, but above Kakariko Village. There are territorial markers on the path; scrap metalwork, mostly. The Gorons are without doubt Hyrule's finest metalsmiths." She flicks a hand dismissively towards the south. "I intend to go there, soon, but must wait for the roads to finish clearing. Another week or two, at the very least... the roads are unsafe with so much snow still on them. Avalanches are dangerous, this high up."

  "Well... I suppose I should rest, and consider an expedition." Zelda offers a fleeting half-smile. "Come. Have you eaten? You should. A cup of tea, perhaps, at the very least..."

  And, if Terra doesn't offer any protest, the princess will lead the half-Esper by the arm up the stairs and to the kitchen, simply insisting that the girl have a hot meal, or at least some hot tea, in her before retiring for the night. Seems like the Hylian monarch is also a bit of a mother hen, too.