Next Volume

 

I have been here for so long. Empires have risen, empires have fallen, ages of golden peace and blackened terror have reigned among the people of this Goddess Land. And through it all, I have watched among the trees and spirits of the forest.

I know fire. I know sun. I know rain and moon and time. Once, I knew an evil so dark, it ate me alive from the inside, completing one cycle and beginning the next anew.

And I know the curiosity of wide-eyed children who call my shade “home.” They give me life. They give me love. I have listened to their voices through the years, my spirits, my light, and with every age, I carry them with me beneath my canopy, even as they change form and I remain steadfast in my roots.

Many have heard the tales of Hylia’s Hero and the Goddess and Princess he protects. They know the stories of the evil that follows them, the trinity of Courage, Wisdom, and Power, and the Sword that Seals the Darkness. Some may even know of me, though I have become little more than rumor, protected so deep within trees that twist and turn and cackle. But who remembers now the little spirits, my keep, my children?

Sweet, mischievous little forest dwellers with stories all their own that they all want to tell. Will you listen, curious one? Will you set aside doubt in that which you cannot see, those who are but ancient mystery lost to the tides of time, and listen to the thoughts of my children? For they are many, and have much to say.

 

Volume One: Spore Collecting

“Wake up!”

I almost did not want to. I wanted to sleep. I like sleep. I like sleep a lot, and I could tell even before I opened my eyes that no sunlight had made its way through the forest canopy. So why, why must I wake so very early?

I had tried to bat the voice away, still unsure to whom it belonged, but, seeing as this action eventually lead to me and the voice’s owner cowering in weak safety of a bush in Deep Akkala very far from the forest I call home, that obviously didn’t work.

“Wake up, Natie!” The long leafed face of Daz had shifted into focus far too slowly, and even once I could focus, I still remained unsure of who exactly I was looking at. It wasn’t until I heard the words, “The hero rises, our time has come!” that I knew exactly what was going on, and why I needed to get up long before dawn.

That had been three days ago. I kind of wish I had slept in then, regardless of Daz’s insistence that we begin our hunt for the finest goods meant for the Hylian hero fresh from his own long slumber. Still, I carry on to fill the already bulging rucksack slung over my shoulder.

You see, Daz and I have longed for the day that we would see the hero in the grove of our people for so many cycles of the sun and moon. Just as our parents had once waited, we, too, have waited and planned and waited and hoped. Hyrule fell long ago, when Calamity Ganon returned, and though none of our people saw the beast burst from the castle, the destruction had been brought to the edge of the Lost Woods when the Hylian Princess sought sanctuary for her fallen hero’s blade beneath the gaze of the Great Deku Tree.

Or so our parents told Daz and me. We were but sprouts, and did not see the fear and loss and determination in her face that our parents would describe to us as we grew older. We have never even been out of the Korok Forest, much less the Lost Woods and into Greater Hyrule. We have only ever seen little engravings carved in trees and stumps. No, Daz and I only dreamed of the day our parents spoke of, when the hero would awaken once more, come for his blade, and defeat the Calamity once and for all. And we, just as our parents had planned, would be there to aid him with mushrooms and herbs and fruits and arrows.

The mushrooms were mine. I like mushrooms.

Trouble is, when we set out three days ago to collect our goods, we came to learn very quickly that Hyrule in real life is really, really big. And all the goodies that we wanted to collect were found in every single corner of the land.

My feet hurt. Daz had been mostly quiet, but I could tell by the way his bag slipped down his back that he, too, hurt to his wooden core. It had been a very long three days, running from monsters and wolves – we are not chew toys! – just trying to find things to aid the hero in his journey. The hero will be hungry when he eventually makes his way to the forest. He’ll need stamina and protection against cold and heat and exhaustion. He will need to be silent and quick and strong. He’ll need apples – or, so Daz insists.

More useful, though, would be the arrows that, at that particular moment in the bush in Deep Akkala, sat tucked protectively beneath Daz’s little arm. He lifted one to me once more, this one tipped with the fury of a thunderstorm, and gave a little jab at the matter which lay before us.

“You don’t think this will take the beast down?”

“What are you going to do, poke it to death?” I snipped, waving the arrow away. “I told you we should have brought a bow!”

“Do you know how to use a bow?” Daz retorted.

I hesitated – the need for such an ability had never really come up. The only thing that needed warding off in the Korok Forest was noisy restless crickets that kept one awake at night. And, dare I say it, a bow and arrow to ward off a cricket is a bit overkill.

Daz smirked. “Thought not.” He jabbed at the creature again. “So what do you propose that we do about that?”

The “that” in question was some sort of demon-horror-monster out of nightmares. Big. Bigger than big. Like, how could something so big even move? Well, that answer was obvious – it stood on four stump-like legs that rippled beneath tight, white and silver and purple striped skin. Each leg ended in some sort of hard-looking material that could probably crush Daz and I like saplings. Not a theory I wanted to test.

It’s long, large, rippling body moved more gracefully than it should have as it clutched a bow twice my height in broad hands and turned its wild-maned head side to side, looking for us. And, just beyond him, tucked away in between two trees, the most delicious-looking zapshroom glistened in the morning dew.

If I were this creature, I would probably be protecting such a tasty-looking morsel myself. Instead, Daz and I were the target of this creature’s attention, and though it did not know where we hid yet, it soon would.

“Do you think it frightens easily?” I questioned with a half hearted shrug. There was no way it felt any sort of fear. I mean, I wouldn’t, were I that big or ripple-y or scary. Daz blinked slowly at me, unspoken words understood, nonetheless. “Yes, I know. Dumb question. But I don’t know what else to do!”

Daz went to raise the arrow again, but I batted it down just as fast with a hiss. We both fell silent and stared at the creature. Its eyes locked onto our bush and it took a few steps near, then stopped.

I sat down and released my bag from my back. What relief! My feet thanked me silently. What was more, as long as we didn’t make too much noise, it seemed the creature couldn’t see us. Benefits of being tree beings in woods, I suppose. Next to me, Daz did the same, finally setting the arrows down on the ground in resignation.

I wanted that mushroom. Sure, I could find zapshrooms elsewhere in Akkala. Even elsewhere in Hyrule. There was no rule that even said I needed zapshrooms in my little shop for the hero, and, by that point, with sore feet and no sleep, the idea of just going home seemed mighty alluring. But the moment I saw that mushroom and ran into the small clearing, right in front of the nightmare monster, I knew it had to be mine.

Or…the hero’s I guess. If he bought it.

Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was my growling tummy. Daz sighed. I did, too.

I don’t know how long we sat there. The creature had all but forgotten about us after a bit, slinging his bow back over his shoulder and resuming what looked to be a sort of monitoring pace, guarding the object of my desire.

Finally, it hit me.

“What if we come back?” Daz tilted his leaf to me; I clearly had pulled him from some sort of daze. “We can go back to the forest, drop off what we have, and ask Hestu to come back with us?”

I watched the idea form into a full image in Daz’s mind. “His dancing is a pretty good distraction…”

I nodded, almost giddy. “Then, while that thing is entranced by Hestu’s maracas, we sneak under its legs and grab the shroomy-shroom, then dance our way back home once more.”

After a moment of further contemplation, in which I saw my own expression of amusement reflect on Daz’s face, we came to a silent agreement. “Home first,” Daz said. “Then back with Hestu. And next time, let’s bring a bow!”

 

Featured image: “Korok Forest – Legend of Zelda Tribute,” by Ori Rycus.

Kat Vadam is a Senior Editor for Zelda Dungeon. She finds Koroks way too adorable for their own tiny good. If only they were real, and she could meet one… Catch her on Instagram!

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