The Yellow Cloth

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Sunlight streamed through the windows of the Knight Academy, resting in thick yellow stripes over the cluttered desks of its chattering students. It was a friendly-looking classroom, large and open and full of glowing faces. It was the last day before the weekend, so naturally spirits were high and the room was buzzing with excitement. Professor Owlan, attempting to look stern but not entirely succeeding, rapped the chalkboard commandingly.

"Come on now. I know it's the last day before break, but you need to pay attention. Diligence is –"

" – one of the best qualities a knight can possess," finished Groose under his breath, looking bored. Owlan narrowed his eyes.

"Funny how you know that, Groose, seeing as you're one of the least diligent ones here."

"Ooh," the class chorused. Groose rolled his eyes, unfazed.

"This is the 34th code of being of knight," Owlan continued, writing it out quickly but neatly on the chalkboard. "Some of the seniors already know this, but I need everyone – including Groose – to copy it down anyway."

The classroom was quiet save for the tiny scratching sounds of pencils on paper. Link, so tired that he felt like he might pass out at any second, struggled to form each letter on the page. He had stayed up the night before talking to Zelda about a problem with her Loftwing, and now he was exhausted. He wondered if he had given her the right advice. He probably should have asked Pipit – Pipit knew everything there was to know about birds. Owlan underlined the code.

"'Code 34: Honor the fallen, especially those of the enemy.' What do you think this means?" He paused, his hawklike eyes surveying the room. "Why don't you get into pairs and discuss it?"

"Pairs?" asked Cawlin in a slightly whiney voice. "As in, only two people?"

"Yes, Cawlin," said Owlan patiently. "That's what a pair is."

Cawlin looked around uneasily, and Link knew that he wanted to be with his posse leader, Groose, and his fellow lackey, Stritch. The trio was nothing but trouble.

"Hey, Link." He felt someone tap him on the shoulder. It was Pipit, looking bright and perky as he always did. The sunlight hit his yellow outfit just right, making it seem to glow a deep gold. "Want to be partners?" he asked.

"Uh…sure," muttered Link. He was too disoriented to really make sense of the situation. Grinning ear to ear, Pipit took the seat next to him and got right down to business.

"So, Link…what do you think the code means?" Link blinked a few times, forcing himself to focus. The chalkboard seemed miles away.

"I think…." He blinked again, trying to clear his mind of the clouds of sleep. "I think it means to respect the dead."

"Yeah," said Pipit enthusiastically. Then his mouth twisted as he considered the next part of the code. "But what about 'especially those of the enemy'? Are we supposed to respect the dead enemies as well?" Link propped his head up on his elbow.

"Maybe. But I think 'fallen' doesn't necessarily mean that they're dead."

"What? You think they're injured or something?"

"Maybe," Link said again. Good Goddess, was he tired. "I mean, if your enemy is defenseless and hurt, you're not going to mock or disrespect him…." He yawned. "You're either going to kill him quickly so he doesn't feel it or you leave him alone."

Pipit tilted his head to the side, observing him thoughtfully. "That's very interesting. Hey, you look kind of tired."

"That's what happens when you stay up all night."

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