Apothecary

Chapter 28

Cannon-travel to different parts of Hyrule, I was finding, provided an opportunity for a good cathartic scream every once in a while.

When Link had me put away the map almost five seconds after I'd pulled the thing out, I'd been surprised that he'd already had a plan for our next destination in mind. When the next thing he did was lead me over to the gargantuan stone cannon sitting on the banks of Lake Hylia and give me a deadpan look, I almost laughed.

Almost.

But that had been before it had animated and blasted us directly into the heavens. Now we were flying, and I was screaming, and we were beginning our descent down to--wherever in Hyrule it was we were going, and I had just enough presence of mind to wonder how we were going to land.

That question was answered in rather short order. I had shut my eyes out of blind fear three-quarters of the way through the fall, but I could still feel just fine–enough to feel a stifling shock as we plunged abruptly into what felt like water. Shockingly cold water--not nearly as freezing as I reasoned the waters of Snowpeak would have been, but still far too chilly for what I believed the waters of a desert oasis would feel.

Involuntarily my eyes opened as I submerged. The water was clear enough, but what was in it didn't make any sense to me. Marble blocks, rusted iron chests, carefully carved stone staircases...where were we? I couldn't make sense of anything underwater, and after my little screaming stunt I was running a little low on air, so with a minor effort I kicked my way up to the surface.

A gust of cool air met me as I broke through and blinked the water out of my eyes. Small billows of vapor rose from the water as I looked around. Link had splashed down just a little ways away, and I could see the ripples he left as he made his way to shore. Me, though, I was still a little stunned, and so took a moment to tread water and just look around.

The sky was clearer than I'd ever seen it, and though the air I felt was probably cooler because I was soaked through, I could tell it wasn't really all that warm–certainly not the harsh desert winds I had expected. What was a pool of cool water–and carved brick, no sandstone here–doing in the middle of the desert anyways? More than a little confused, I waded my way to the stone stairs and staggered onto dry land. Dry, windswept land. Why was it so windy here? Why was the ground beneath my soaked boots still stone? And were those--fans, in the distance?

The whirring sound would definitely match up. The last time I'd seen or heard of anything resembling a bladed fan was at a summer sundries gala in Castle Town Square a year or so back, put on by the research team who'd gone off to investigate the ruins of the Temple of Time. And the fan in question was a dinky little prototype displayed by an overexcited scholar on a hot day, with blades that spun far too fast and far too wildly to convince the skeptical masses to switch from hand fans. Though I did overhear some of the nobles beginning to make bids (far too many Rupees for such a tiny little thing.) Nothing like the size and scale I thought I was hearing now.

If it even was a fan, and not simply the noise of a large set of gears spinning in tandem. Whatever it was rumbled too rhythmically for me to suspect it being anything else. But regardless of what it was, it would have to be huge–

My thoughts all slammed to a screeching halt as I realized I could see just what I'd suspected over the horizon. A giant fan. Hovering in midair, just below one of the buildings I saw.

I...what? How? What?

I shook my head vigorously to get the water out of my ears–and my eyes, wondering if I was hearing right, seeing right. But the fan never disappeared, and the whirring only grew louder. All that met my eyes was the giant fan–and then even more of its fantastical surroundings. The pastel, faded colors of the buildings above and alongside the fan, some of them with their own fans mounted underneath. The stonework of the pavement around this...pool?...that we had landed in, and how large and varied and oddly close the clouds seemed, how they stretched out below the buildings–