The Legend of Zelda- Ocarina of Time

Journey to Hyrule Castle

Chapter 8

Journey to Hyrule Castle

Link just wanted to go home. Weeks ago, the chance to adventure into Hyrule's wide and unknown expanse would have filled him with wonder. Home meant safety, where his biggest worry was a bully named Mido and his not-terribly bright lackeys. Mido didn't seem like a big deal compared to what Link had encountered since venturing out of the forest. Did the Great Deku Tree make a mistake? Had he been so close to death that he'd been unable to think straight?

Maybe? Link thought.

Maybe he was never meant to leave the forest, but then again, Saria and Kaepora had known he would.

The mizzle that persisted through the small hours of the night dampened his mood. He sat in the doorway of the stables, his arms sore after helping move boxes into Talon's cart. He had barely slept, but he did not want to rest either. That just made him anxious and working gave him something to do. His hand still stung despite the salve Caria had given him, and he still reeked of smoke, even after rinsing himself off. It was impossible to keep his thoughts from drifting to the previous night, like his mind was playing a cruel joke and forcing him to relive those horrible memories over and over. So Link did what he could to distract himself, but it wasn't easy.

Link had been carrying boxes laden with bottles of milk, which were quite heavy. He only loaded three boxes onto the cart before disaster struck. On his fourth run, he tripped straight over a chicken. Both the crate and boy went crashing to the earth, bottles tumbling from the box with a loud crash, milk splashing across the ground. The chicken hobbled off to its coop, clucking angrily all the while. Talon came rushing over, as did Tingle, the cat. The cat was only interested in quickly lapping up the milk before it soaked into the ground. Talon shooed the animal away, earning a sulky glare from the feline.

For all Talon's reassurance that it was just an accident and not really a big deal, Link felt like a clumsy idiot.

Talon sent Link to sit down and have a rest, leaving him in the company of Navi and one of the rancher's friendlier hounds, the same one that kept drooling on his face in the middle of the night. Nosy was a young, spritely dog with a white patch of fur upon his muzzle. Having given up on trying to convince Link to throw a stick and growing bored with chewing on Link's boots, he was now sitting with his head resting on Link's lap, staring with doleful puppy eyes.

Getting the hint, Link yielded to the dog's request and idly scratched its ears. Nosy rolled his eyes, grunting with doggy contentment.

Link watched Malon and Talon as they made their final preparations to depart. Talon was harnessing a horse, yawning loudly as he did so. Judging from Ingo's gruff tones, Talon had somehow tangled the horse in its harness. Malon quickly came over and offered to fix the problem, leaving the two adults to keep grumbling. Nobody was in a good mood, not even Malon. Usually, she was the one who jumped at the chance to cheer Link up and drag him from his brooding thoughts, but now she, too, was lost in memories.

"C'mon, Link," Talon called as he finished checking the tack. "Climb on the back, and we'll be off."

"Sorry, Nosy," Link said apologetically. He stopped scratching the dog and got up. Nosy lay down in the straw, tail wagging, and rolled onto his back in a gesture of, "Can you scratch my belly?"

Link almost obliged, but Talon called him, "Hurry up, lad! We can't stand around here all day getting nothing done."

Link could have sworn he saw Ingo pause and raise an eyebrow, momentarily forgetting the wagon's cargo. Talon, none the wiser, was already walking off towards one of the storehouses. Ingo followed him, whistling a command to Nosy. The dog took off, trotting towards the farmhand, while Link trudged over to the cart and clambered onto it. Navi landed on one of the boxes, her eyes inadvertently drifting to the blackened ruins. Link didn't follow her gaze. He wanted to block out the memory of what had happened. With the heavy smell of smoke still wafting from the wreckage, that was no simple task.