Fan Fiction Friday: The Man Behind the Masks – Part 10

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How can something that large move so quickly?

I staggered back, still clutching Carter’s mask. Such a silly inclination really, to be protective over the remains of a man who tried to kill me.

Azamuku gritted his teeth and clapped twice. Within seconds, a gigantic black disc appeared and the golden serpent bounced back. It shook its head and hissed at the mage.

“So, the Goddesses send light spirits to do their dirty work now? Are they too afraid to show themselves?” He began kneading the air as a baker might with dough. Smaller black discs warped into existence as he worked quickly.

“The Goddesses sent… that?”

“Yes, Lanayru, confounded water snake!” He snapped his wrists back and fired the black discs.

Lanayru, despite its immense size, twisted around the projectiles. The snake rose vertically into the air until I could see the full length of its body. In its mouth, a swirling golden orb glowed intensely surrounded by a rainbow hue. Such deadly beauty.

“Is there a way to stop it?”

The mage didn’t answer. His hands drew curious symbols and I could hear him muttering words in a language that I did not understand. Other Interlopers performed the same incantation across Hyrule Field, their voices in a synchronized rhythm. This, combined with the unstoppable storm sent shivers down my spine. Stuck in the middle of mages and magical beings, I felt out of place, even though Azamuku had referred to me as a magician.

That’s right, I’m a magician. 

I could do something; if only I could tap into it and be of some use. I urged my fingers to tingle, willed them to burn and throb as they had done, but nothing happened. Where had my anger gone? I groaned, grabbed two fistfuls of hair and lolled my head back and forth. But the motion made me feel dizzy and I stopped.

“Do not draw attention to yourself,” Azamuku said. He fired off another round of black discs. “This is not your time to act.”

Two other light spirits joined Lanayru; one, a monkey with long limbs and a tail that arched around the whole creature. The other, a bearded hawk, or perhaps an owl flapped its enormous wings above and squawked. Firmly clasped between strong talons another sparkling orb. Both had golden swirls of light that pulsed like a curious heartbeat as they set their sights on Azamuku.

“Faron and Eldin, you have come also. I must say, I am honored.”

“You seek to establish dominion over the Sacred Realm. The Goddesses have no choice but to intervene,” the light spirits chanted together. “The power you have created will be sealed away and your kind will be banished from the World of Light.”

The mage’s arms quivered. Each new shield he conjured was weaker and smaller than the last. “What of balance in the world?” he demanded. “How dare the Goddesses choose our fate, they do not have the right!”

Azamuku became engulfed in a light so bright that I feared I would go blind. Forced onto his hands and knees, he called out to me. “The Sacred Realm is the key. A place of salvation for us. I have failed, so you must…” his voice faltered. He took a haggard breath and pressed his palms together. “You must save us, those the Goddesses saw fit to cast out.”

I didn’t understand, until the mage started to scream.

“No…wait!” I pleaded with the light spirits.

In that bright light, Azamuku was obliterated.

The light bathed the fields. It touched the Hylian soldiers who cowered on the ground, but no harm came to them. Upon touching an Interloper however, they screamed as if set alight. Such overwhelming anguish, somehow far worse than the death cries of any battle. Some fought back, their defiant sparks of magic extinguished in an instant. Like puppets without strings their bodies went limp and all too soon, there were no mages left at all. The light spirits having completed their task departed.

That day, the history books would refer to this battle as the “Interloper War”. King Hyrule had saved the Sacred Realm from the clutches of a great evil and averted disaster. Songs would be sung and tales told for generations. For many this was the creation of a new age, but a lot of things had also died; my faith in the Goddesses, my hope of finding answers, and my trust in the king.

Only now, did the dark clouds retreat and thin rays of sunshine broke through. I should have been happy; except, the soldiers’ rapture brought bile to my throat.

“The battle is ours,” King Hyrule bellowed to the men.

I could not bring myself to look at him. Could he not see what the Goddesses had done? I stared at the mask in my hand.

Poor Carter, he’d been right about everything.

Now the clean-up began; horses retrieved, swords and shields picked like flowers from the long grass. The wounded tended to, prisoners taken and those less fortunate loaded onto carts headed for Kakariko Graveyard. Exhausted, I trudged behind one such cart as Hyrule Castle loomed closer. But those proud towers had suddenly lost their shine for me. I stopped before the drawbridge, wondering if life could ever return to normal.

Am I to see the dead every time I close my eyes?

“Ganon’s breath, Okane!”

Someone grabbed me around the middle and I froze. They quaked; I could feel their shivers vibrating through my bones.

“That is my name,” I said slowly.

The deep bags under his blood shot eyes pulled the skin away from their sockets. At first, I did not recognize this ghost, but then I spotted straggly whiskers on his chin.

“Guru-Guru, is that really you?”

He blinked frantically. “I want to go home now.”

“That’s all I ever wanted, you stubborn fool.” I crushed him into a hug that Yasei would have been proud of.

“Can’t breathe,” Guru-Guru grunted but made no attempt to wriggle free.

There is still some good in this world. Thank the… Old habits die hard. I glanced at the Triforce carved into the stone and frowned. No, I will not thank them. In fact, I shall never praise them again.

---

We returned home without incident, and a bag of rupees richer. King Hyrule paid his men well for the blood that had been spilled. The townsfolk treated us as heroes and a great festival was held in our honor. But it was difficult to feel jolly when soldiers hobbled around Castle Town on crutches. Every brave smile hid internal scars that could not be healed so easily, as I understood well enough.

That evening, The Dog and Crown was a hive of activity. Shadows swayed in the firelight as an accordion played. The smell of beef and onion pies, and musty smoke lingered. We navigated the sticky floors and squeezed into one of the small tables beneath a low wooden beam. A bar maid clutching several tankards took our order.

“Two pints of Chateau Romani,” Guru-Guru said and wagged his finger when I made to protest.

I laughed at him. “You should take it easy.”

“On my birthday? Not likely!”

“Eighteen winters or not, don’t go spending it all at once.”

“Says you, I saw you at the market buying a new shirt.”

“If I’m going to be the proprietor of the Happy Mask Shop, I have to look the part.”

He chuckled. “Purple though?”

“It adds to the customer experience. Purple represents an air of mystery, luxury and extravagance.”

“Purple represents you talking out your behind more like. Now tell me the truth, it’s for a girl, isn’t it?” Guru-Guru smirked. “The one you’re always writing to… Geez,” he exclaimed, “what was her name? Anju? Linda? No, definitely Telma, right?”

When the bar maid returned with the vintage milk, I had never been more grateful.

Guru-Guru, not one to waste time, seized his pint and drank deeply. By the end, he had a rather thick milk mustache which he wiped away with his sleeve.

It was good to see my friend enthusiastic about something. He’d been too quiet, staring out the window at the people passing by. His phonograph gathering dust in a corner. Not that I blamed him, Akisin’s disappearance had floored me as well. After the battle, I thought there could be nothing worse, I’d been wrong.

Why leave your financial affairs in order at the bank, but no forwarding address? I took a thoughtful sip, but not even the creamy texture of a Chateau Romani could ease the sour taste in my mouth. I had investigated, asking questions and gathering clues. But in the understandable panic, people had boarded up their windows and gone into total lock down. They had not seen the old carpenter or had any idea where she might have gone. It is selfish to vanish during a war like that, but she might still be alive.       

“Come on, drink up!” Guru-Guru banged his fist on the table making it shake.

“Some people like to savour rather than guzzle,” I pointed out. “And as for your appalling memory, her name is Yasei.”

“Oh, I remember, the one you make masks for.” He waved at the bar maid and pointed at his tankard.

“Not just for her.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” He held his hands up. “For what it’s worth, I think dating a merchant would be good for you.”

Dating? I spat out a mouthful of milk.  

“Hey, don’t go wasting the good stuff.” Guru-Guru started smacking me on the back which was far from helpful.

For a good five minutes the coughing would not stop. Goodness, why does it hurt so much when things go down the wrong pipe?

“Stop hitting me,” I bit out. “And for your information, Yasei and I are just-”

“Friends, are you?” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Pull the other one, who stays up half the night writing a letter to a friend? Or interrogates the postman about parcels from a certain village in the east? And as for that stupid grin you wear.”

“What stupid grin?” I coughed.       

“When you read her letters, you pull this… face.”

Guru-Guru’s impression of ‘said’ face was all teeth and fluttering eye lashes. A most deranged expression if I ever I saw one.

“Be careful, if the wind changes, you’ll be stuck like that.”

He snorted into his second pint. “I’m going to miss this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m struggling, Ronri.”

In all these years, I could count the number of times he’d said my first name on one hand. We sat for a while listening to the crackle of the fire. Someone smashed a plate on the floor and cheers filled the room.

“I haven’t been sleeping, keep having nightmares about, well, I’m sure you know.”  He picked up his tankard and set it down again. “Castle Town is so noisy now. I keep jumping at shadows, flinching when I see a sword. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“It’s hardly been easy for me either.”

“Alright, but you have the store to keep you busy. And before you say it, I still don’t want to work with you.”

I pushed my drink away with a sigh. “So, what will you do?”

“Well, turns out the miller of Kakariko village wants to retire, so they need someone to take over the windmill.”

“What?” I shook my head in disbelief. “You’d go mad being holed up in a windmill all day.”

“Peace and quiet, alone with my music — sounds like heaven to me.” Guru-Guru smiled. “Hey, you could at least pretend to be happy. Come on, let’s raise a toast together, eh?”

Another fake smile required, I thought glumly, but raised my tankard anyway. “Here’s to fame and fortune for the greatest musician in Hyrule!”

“Ditto, to the future success of The Happy Mask Shop enterprise!”

If only I had known what the future held. I might have been able to change it…

 

Featured art: Alison Brunyee via Canva.com

Alison Brunyee is an Original Content Editor for Zelda Dungeon. She likes reading manga and collecting Japanese wind chimes. Her favorite Zelda game is Ocarina of Time. For a bit of escapism during this tough time, check out more fan fiction from her alter writing ego – Otwl. Stay safe x