Fan Fiction Friday: An Anthology from the Forest – Volume Five
Posted on June 25 2021 by Kat Vadam
Volume Five: Maracas
Hero, hero, please! I seek your help! Now that I know you can see me, a wonder in and of itself, I know that you can help me. Many have passed through here from the village at the end of the path, but they all look right through me as I stand bereft. You, though, have seen me, so I beg your aid to recover what is lost.
My dance. My soul. My maracas.
“Hestu, what is so special about those maracas?”
I am often asked this question by my friends, and it always seems so strange to me. “They just seem like ordinary maracas.”
Ah, shalaka, I ask them this: is it not obvious that there is nothing ordinary about them? So vibrant in color, with such pulse; the beat they create is the very beat of the earth itself! The swish, the clatter, every psh-psh-psh spilled from my hands fills me with the desire to shake along! A gift from the heavens, to give rhythm to the chaos of life.
And they are magic! Every dance I perform leaves my audience a little stronger, revitalized, rejuvenated. Many even dance along with me before finding themselves able to bear a little more weight, shoulder a little more responsibility. What wonders I have seen my precious maracas create!
They come to me and ask for dances, yet question my maracas? How silly, shakalo. You would not question them. I can tell by your silence that I have your attention, and you would never question the dance.
So, you see, hero, this is why I ache for them. They are as much a part of me as I am of them, and they have been taken! Stolen from my very hands by creatures of Malice who seek only to harm the dance. Snuck up on me while I slept, who does that? Cruel, heartless monsters, that’s who! And now I feel empty; I cannot hear the beat. I weep and mourn, shaka lala.
You are yet missing your own sword, the Sword That Seals the Darkness. I can tell you have yet to recover all your strength, so I know that this emptiness rings familiar within you, too. A swordsman without his glistening companion.
I, too, have no weapons, and am defenseless. Funny, really, how many who seek the beat of my maracas do so to be able to carry more weapons, yet I am a pacifist. What use is a sword to someone who seeks no harm? I should have known: since the Calamity one hundred years ago, this land has changed. Danger around every corner. The only safe place for the most celebrated musician of Korok Forest is his own home.
Now, do not think for a moment I beg for help without attempting to get my maracas back myself. Those creatures, the monsters, they are not smart. They trip and tumble over their own feet, squealing like aimless animals. I had hoped that I could use such observations to my advantage, to trick or even frighten them. I hoped to cause such a distraction that they did not know I was even there.
But they have large ears that hear the faintest flicker of wings on a bug or the crow of a bird miles away. I have crept into their camp every night since my maracas went missing. I have caused distractions with leaves and wind. I have tried, and every night, they hear me coming, and I am chased away by arrows and blades, their shrieks following me as I run. They see me, and they see right through me.
I do know what their camp looks like, though. It’s small, nestled between two peaks on the edge of a cliff, and hidden where a passing glance would not see. I think I know where the instruments are hidden, too. There is a chest on a platform, you see, sealed by a sort of malicious orange light. Somehow, that seal must be broken to get inside, but I cannot get close enough to figure it out.
I know that you have only just come back from your sleep, but you are the hero. I have heard stories of you, of the spirit passed from age to age, a beacon of strength and hope for all of Hyrule. Even we who live in the trees know of you, so it must be the will of the Goddess Hylia that you and I should meet in my time of need. You can help me get my maracas back, fill me with dance once more, and I can dance for you and help you rebuild and even surpass your former strength.
Please, hero, please. I must dance!
Featured image: “Korok Forest – Legend of Zelda Tribute,” by Ori Rycus.
Kat Vadam is a Senior Editor for Zelda Dungeon. She must dance! Follow her on Instagram!
Kat Vadam is a mother of one, proud cat mom, and wife to someone far nerdier than she could ever hope to be. She also works by day as an analyst, writer, and editor. Here at Zelda Dungeon, she is the Head of Social Media and a copy editor, though she still enjoys occasionally writing things. Someday, she plans on giving up all her worldly possessions to move to the forest and become best friends with a korok. Were it so easy.
