Zelda: the Last Generation: The Calm

Okay. I had this amazing idea, since I'm so bad about updating and you're not likely to get another installment for a couple of months. Reading this now, you've probably forgotten everything that's happened so far. So, I'm going to start putting a little paragraph before each chapter to remind you of what happened in the last chapter. That way, if I for some reason *cough* don't update for, like, a year, when I finally do update, you can skim over all the handy little paragraphs to find out what happened! It's ingenious!! =D Good news is that this chapter is more than twice as long as the previous ones have been, to make up for the ungodly wait you all had to endure.

Ahem. Anyway. So, I'll put the sum-up paragraph in bold, like this:

Sum-up of Chapters 1, 2, and 3:

T'risa and Mako Querelekt live comfortably in Kakariko Village. When the story begins, T'risa is pregnant with a baby boy. One night, to her horror, Mako collapses in a spastic fit. He wakes up just fine a few minutes later. Brazze, Mako's father, explains to her that Mako has these `visions' of the future. They always come true. Mako refuses to tell T'risa or Brazze what his vision was; he'll only say that it was bad. Meanwhile, in the desert, King Ganondorf of the southern Gerudos is riling up his people, readying them for war against the Northern country. He is secretly setting plagues on his country, then removing them heroically and claiming they were the North's doings. Nabooru, a young girl, has offered to stand beside her king in battle.

Some days later, a girl, Impa, is preparing to become the caretaker of the princess about to be born to Queen Kalytaeia. It is clear she has developed an interest in one of the castle's pages, Trevan. She meets with the queen, who gives her a package to deliver to T'risa (they are apparently friends), and the queen receives a message from the South, asking for more land. She angrily refuses. She tells Impa this spat will likely smooth over, but Impa isn't so sure….

++++++++++

“Mako, I'm not so sure about this….”

“You're doing fine. Just tip it in, just like that.”

“Isn't this stuff supposed to be explosive? I might blow up the house.”

“You're not going to blow up the house.”

“But it is explosive?”

“When did I say it was?”

“When did you say it wasn't?”

“Just pour it in.”

“But what if it explodes?”

“It's not going to explode!”

“But it could!”

“But it won't!”

“How can you be so sure?”

“T'risa, I've done this a thousand times! Just pour it in!”

“Maybe there's a one-in-a-thousand chance that it explodes!”

“T'risa!”

“Mako!”

It was mid-afternoon in Kakariko village, and the town's happiest couple was hard at work filling the day's quota for bickering. Mako was, at the request of his father, trying to teach T'risa how to make a potion for his vision “hangovers.” She had been doing well so far, but for the last half-hour she had been holding a packet of deku seeds over a frothing pot on the stove, reluctant to “dump them in,” as Mako had instructed.

“T'risa, if you wait any longer, the fire's going to go out.”

“Good, maybe it'll be safer that way.”

Mako rubbed his temple; suddenly, his eyes grew wide and he stared in horror at something over T'risa's shoulder. “T'risa!” he cried. “What's that?!”

Terrified, T'risa spun around. “Where?!”

While T'risa was distracted, Mako knocked her hand. T'risa whirled back with a cry of surprise, but it was too late; the deku seeds had already fallen with several plunks into the potion.

Mako grinned at her. “See?” he said smugly. “Nothing happened.”

She glared at him. “Don't do that!” she snapped. “You scared me!”

Her husband shook his head and stirred the purple concoction with a long-handled wooden ladle. “Now we just let this simmer for a couple minutes,” he said. “Think you can remember how to do it?”

T'risa nodded. “It's simple enough.” Suddenly, she gave a little gasp and put a hand to her stomach.

Mako looked up in alarm. “What? What is it?”

T'risa smiled. “He's kicking.” She patted a spot on the side of her stomach. “Feel right here.”

Mako raised his eyebrows, then put his own heavy hand where T'risa indicated. His eyes lit up as he felt the little pokes of pressure.

They stood there for a few moments before T'risa spoke up. “What are we going to name him?” she asked.

Mako looked up in surprise. “You want to pick a name now? Already? But he's not due for at least—”

“I just want to have one ready,” said T'risa. “Did you know the queen's baby already has a name? Zelda. She's due around the same time as ours. That's so pretty, don't you think? Princess Zelda?”

Mako shrugged. “So, what do you want to call him?”

T'risa squinted her eyes in deep thought. “I don't know,” she said. “We could call him Mako Junior, or Brazze.”

Mako snorted. “I don't know if I could bear to give my kid the same name as my father.”

“Okay then,” said T'risa, looking slightly crestfallen. “I've thought about others, too. How about Mido?”

“Do you mean after that Kokiri friend of yours?” asked Mako with a grin. “Come on, show some originality, would you? I was thinking more along the lines of `Bugsworth,' or maybe `Grendleton.'”

T'risa gaped at him. “We are not naming our son Bugsworth! Are you insane?”

“What are you talking about? Bugsworth is a nice name! We can call him `Buggy' for short.”

T'risa groaned. “What other names do we know? I had a great uncle Teryl at one point….”

“Teryl's not bad.”

“…But I absolutely hated him. We're not naming him Teryl.”

“Then why'd you bring it up?”

“Better Teryl than `Bugsworth.'”

“You know I was kidding.”

“Well, you could try being a little more serious! This decision will affect us for the rest of our lives!”

“What's got your tunic in a knot?”

“I'm pregnant.”

“Ah, really? I hadn't noticed.”

T'risa took a swing at him; in doing so, she felt some cloth tear under her tunic. “Ah,” she groaned. “Look what you made me do!” Sighing, she thrust a hand down the front of her tunic to fix the bandage that had torn loose. A swift glare at her husband wiped away the boyish grin that was beginning to form on his face.

As T'risa pulled her hand back out of her tunic, there was a soft knock on the front door. She went to answer it. The moment she opened the door, she was greeted with the face of a smiling young girl. She gasped in delight. “Impa!”

“Hello, T'risa,” said Impa, allowing herself to be pulled into a tight embrace.

“How've you been?” asked T'risa, holding the girl at arm's length. “Your hair has gotten so long! It's gorgeous!”

Impa smiled and flicked her head so that the brown hair settled behind her back. “Yeah, I've been growing it out,” she said. “Pity they're gonna make me dye it white.”

T'risa shook her head. “I know,” she said, reaching out to feel a lock of Impa's soft hair. “That stuff they use just ruins the texture, you know.” Her expression turned mischievous. “Say,” she said, changing the subject. “How's it going with that page friend of yours—what's his name? Trevan?”

Impa blushed and bit her lip to stop a smile creeping across her face. “Yeah,” she said softly. “It's going alright.”

“He like you yet?”

Impa paused. “I think he might,” she said slowly.

T'risa let out a laugh and playfully tugged a strand of Impa's hair.

“It's good to see you, Impa,” interjected Mako, stepping forward. “Exactly how old are you now?”

Impa gave a little smile. “Fifteen,” she said. “Sixteen in a few months.”

As Impa chatted away with Mako, T'risa felt a strange feeling come over her. She couldn't quite place it, but Impa was acting… differently. Her smiles were only half-there, and when she wasn't speaking, her eyes seemed glazed and distant, as if her mind were somewhere else.

T'risa cocked her head and studied the girl's face. Impa was like a sister to her — being only three years apart in age, they shared many of the same feelings and opinions, and Impa often came by looking for advice. Since the queen was getting closer to giving birth, Impa had been spending less and less time away from the castle, but they had been together long enough for T'risa to recognize when something was wrong.

“Oh, T'risa, I almost forgot,” said Impa suddenly, bringing T'risa back to reality. “I'm supposed to give this to you. It's from the Queen; she didn't tell me what it is, though.” She extracted a small brown package from a bag on her shoulder, which T'risa took curiously.

“A package…?” Carefully, she pulled the white string binding it shut. As she peeled away the paper, her eyes lit up. “Oh,” she breathed, pulling out something blue and shiny.

“Oh,” repeated Impa as she looked at what T'risa had in he hand. “Her… ocarina.”

Indeed, it was an ocarina. It was larger than average, painted almost entirely royal blue except for a small yellow triangle on the mouthpiece. T'risa held it up to the light, admiring it silently. “This… is hers?” she asked.

“Yeah,” repeated Impa. “She said she wanted you to fix it. I should've guessed; you know more about ocarinas than anyone in Hyrule!”

T'risa smiled. “Well,” she said. “I don't know about that.” She examined the ocarina now with a careful eye, but it didn't take her long to find the problem. “Ooh,” she muttered, running her finger along a long crack on its underside. “That's a nasty one.” She chuckled. “What does the woman do with this?”

Impa shook her head. Her smile faded, and she looked up at T'risa with solemn eyes. “There's… something else,” she said in a low voice.

Mako glanced over sharply, and T'risa put down the ocarina. “What is it?” T'risa asked.

Impa took a deep breath. “I… I'm not really supposed to say. It's just… something's happening. I don't even really understand it, but… I have this feeling.” She took a shaky breath. “I'd just… be ready, if I were you. There might be… trouble.”

There was an awkward pause. No one spoke. After a moment, T'risa softly asked, “What trouble?”

But Impa shook her head. “I can't say. I should be leaving now, anyway. I was just supposed to deliver the ocarina. Someone should be around next week to collect it, unless you want to bring it back yourself.”

T'risa nodded, only partially listening.

Impa gave a weak smile. “Don't worry,” she said. “I'm sure it's nothing. We're gonna be fine.” She gave T'risa a hug, nodded at Mako, and left the house, closing the door behind her.

“Do you think there'll be a war?” T'risa asked immediately, her purple eyes wide.

Mako was taken aback. “What makes you say that?”

T'risa shook her head. “I just have a feeling. Impa was… scared. She knows something's going on.”

Mako sighed. “Well, I don't know what's going on,” he said, looking away, “but I wouldn't rule it out.”

There was a long silence. T'risa rubbed her arm, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.

“Hey,” said Mako suddenly. He had gone to the window and was peering outside. “It's Talon and Marielle!”

T'risa looked up. “Really?” Her face brightened. The Lons came around no more than once a week, if that. She shook her head. She was being silly, worrying about things like this. Impa tended to overreact to little issues. Besides, did problems at the castle really concern them, anyway? What was she worried about? The queen was a talented ruler. She'd straighten everything out.

Pushing the troublesome thoughts from her head, T'risa rushed out of the hut to meet her friends. Mako followed. As she hopped down the front steps, T'risa saw Brazze coming around a corner. She beamed at him. “Hello, Papa!” she called. She thought for a moment that his face looked paler than usual, but that was probably from the bleaching light of the sun overhead. The old man smiled and waved her on.

Parked right in the center of Kakariko Square was a huge, horse-drawn cart partitioned down the middle. On one side, crates of what T'risa knew to be fresh milk bottles were stacked precariously high. On the other, a couple cows and a number of cuccos mooed and squawked as they waited to be sold or traded. The cart was surrounded by most of the village, all of whose members were chattering loudly and examining the wares. Mako saw Talon right away and made his way through the crowd to greet him. It took T'risa a moment to locate Marielle, but she finally found her, holding one of her cows by a rope and bargaining with a loud, solid man over the price.

“Five hundred rupees?” the man was grumbling. “For a cow? That's ridiculous. I'll give you two-fifty.”

“Two hundred fifty? Are you out of your mind?” Marielle was what T'risa like to call “pleasantly plump.” She was by no means tall, but when she put her hands on her hips, like she was doing now, and puffed out her chest, she could look very intimidating. “This is one of the best cows you're going to find in all of Hyrule.”

“One of the only cows I'm gonna find.”

“Supply and demand. She's worth at least four-fifty.”

“I'll give you two-fifty.”

Marielle bristled. “Now, you listen to me—!” She broke off mid-sentence when she noticed T'risa standing there. Her face brightened noticeably, and she played a quick mental tug-of-war between her friend and her cow. “Alright,” she grunted finally, handing the man the rope. “Two-fifty.” She narrowed her eyes at him as he dropped the rupees into her hand. “Least money I've ever gotten for a cow like this.”

As the man walked away, his prize in tow, Marielle strode over to T'risa and scooped her into a bone-breaking hug. “T'ri!” she cried, grinning from ear to ear.

T'risa laughed and returned the embrace. “Mari! You act like you haven't seen me in a month.”

Marielle stepped back, shaking her head. “It seems like so much longer than a week. Why don't you ever come to visit us sometimes? We miss you!”

T'risa smiled. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I'll do what I can. It's getting harder, now, even to ride. I'm due in a few months, you know.”

Marielle patted her stomach. “Hasn't stopped me,” she said with a grin.

T'risa rolled her eyes. “Oh, Mari, while you're here, do you have any ideas for a name? The Deku Tree says it'll be a boy. Mako and I were arguing about it earlier, but we can't seem to come up with anything.”

Marielle tilted her head slightly. “You know Saria, right? The Kokiri sage? Try asking her. The sages are great at picking lucky names.”

T'risa nodded thoughtfully. “Good idea,” she said. “I'll try that. Out of curiosity, what are you naming yours?”

“Oh, we haven't decided on one just yet, but we've got some ideas,” said Marielle. “We went to see Saria just the other day, you know. She said, since the kid'll be born around the same time as the princess, it would be lucky to pick something to sort of bring them together. I was thinking `Link.'”

“Ah,” said T'risa. “That's clever. It's a real name, isn't it?”

Marielle nodded. “Talon doesn't want to break the `lon' tradition he thinks he has going with Malon, but he'll come around, eh?” She gave T'risa's arm a little swat and laughed heartily.

“Mommy.”

Both women looked down at the tiny voice. A chubby toddler was pulling at Marielle's dress and looking up. T'risa put her hands to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness,” she breathed as Marielle scooped the girl up. “She's absolutely adorable!”

Marielle smiled. “Say hello to T'risa, Malon.”

The toddler looked at T'risa with big, shy eyes. “Hewwo,” she said softly.

T'risa felt her heart melting. The girl was at least two years old, but this was her first time out of the ranch. Her short brown hair matched her mother's, as did her eyes. “I need to start visiting more,” said T'risa. “I'm missing so much!”

Malon started to wriggle, and Marielle set her down again. The toddler started to chase a loose cucco around the cart.

“Oh,” said Marielle suddenly, drawing something out of her deep dress pocket. “I have something for you.”

“What? Really?” T'risa took the bundle, eyeing it curiously. “What's it for?”

“Does a girl need an occasion to give her friend a present?” asked Marielle, grinning. “Go on, open it.”

T'risa did so. Her jaw nearly dropped. “Your… ocarina?” she gasped. “But why?”

Marielle shrugged. “I never play it anymore,” she said, “and I know how much you want one.”

T'risa was speechless. “Marielle, I…” She fingered the ocarina. It was pearly-white, without a nick or a scratch on it. She took a deep breath, then threw her arms around her friend. “Thank you,” she breathed.

Marielle laughed. “It's nothing, really,” she insisted.

They broke apart. T'risa wrapped the ocarina lovingly in its blanket, which she tied to her belt.

They chatted for a while, catching each other up. With the births of several new ponies, the Lons had decided it was time to hire some extra help. “Ingo's his name,” said Marielle. “He wouldn't be my first choice, but he was all we could get. Says he's from the southern end of Hyrule. I didn't even know there were villages down there. He can get kinda grumbly, especially with Talon, but I can usually get him to work.”

They broke off as a young girl approached them hesitantly. T'risa smiled. “Hi, Anya,” she said warmly.

Anya half-smiled. “Hello,” she replied. She turned to address Marielle, but she looked a little unnerved by Marielle's brazen appearance.

Marielle, however, crouched down, a broad grin on her face. “Hi there, sweetie,” she said pleasantly. “Can I help you?”

The girl blinked and gave a little cough. “I'd like to buy a cucco, please,” she said softly. She held out a fist and opened it, offering up a red jewel. “Is this enough?”

T'risa knew Marielle would hardly consider twenty rupees a fair trade for one of her prized cuccos, but the woman said, “Sure, honey. I know just the girl for you,” and bustled off to her cart.

T'risa bent down to talk to Anya. “Your mommy finally let you get one, huh?” she said knowingly.

Anya's eyes shone with excitement, though her face stayed shy and polite. “Uh-huh,” she nodded. “Daddy built a pen for her next to the house, so I can watch her whenever I want.”

Marielle returned, her hands cupped. “How's this one?” she asked, shifting her hands to reveal a very small, very yellow bundle of fluff.

Anya gave a squeak of delight. “Ooooh,” she cooed, leaning forward to get a better look.

Marielle pushed the chick forward. “She's all yours.”

But Anya backed suddenly away. “Could I… could I maybe have a—a blanket, or something?” she asked timidly. “I'm not allowed to touch her. It makes me itch.”

“Allergies,” T'risa whispered to Marielle, who acknowledged her with a tilt of the head. “I'll carry her for you, Anya,” offered T'risa, taking the bird from Marielle.

“Thank you,” the girl breathed. She plunked her red rupee into Marielle's broad hand, and beamed up at T'risa. “Thank you! I've always wanted a pet cucco.”

T'risa laughed and put a hand on Anya's head. “I know you have. I'll bring her along in a minute, okay?”

Anya nodded, still glowing with happiness, and skipped away to her house.

As T'risa snuggled with the cucco chick, Mako and Talon came over, chatting away. Talon, however, stopped talking as they approached. His eyes darted over the spot where T'risa and Marielle stood, and he quickened his pace. “Marielle,” he said, a hint of concern in his voice. “Where's Malon?”

Marielle's eyes widened. “She's with you, isn't she? I saw her run around the cart... Oh, goddesses, where could she have gone?”

“She can't be far,” said Mako at once. “Let's spread out.”

The four of them took off, each toward a different corner of the square. T'risa headed toward her and Mako's house, glancing this way and that, behind a tree, over a fence, around a corner—”

“Malon!” she cried suddenly, spotting the girl. She was tottering toward the peg where Coltor was tied up, and the horse looked agitated. He didn't like new people. He was pacing on his tether and snorting apprehensively. “Malon, no!” T'risa called in a panic. Marielle came bolting up behind her, closely followed by Talon and Mako. “Stop,” T'risa ordered them. “You'll only excite him. Malon, come back!”

The others halted obediently by T'risa's side, the four of them watching helplessly as the toddler reached out toward the horse's shiny black coat. Coltor whipped his head around and brought his nose close to her face. Marielle gave a soft whimper, while T'risa tried to will her horse into submission.

The silence was suddenly broken by a short, high-pitched, bubbly noise. Malon was giggling. She reached up and touched Coltor's nose. The horse, instead of trampling the infant, had licked her face. He had stopped his pacing and was looking quite content as Malon petted him.

The adults rushed over, and Marielle scooped her daughter up quickly.

T'risa stared in amazement at her horse. “Wow,” she breathed. “He doesn't generally… introduce well.”

Talon gave a deep laugh. “Wouldja look at that,” he chuckled as his daughter reached out again toward the horse, who nuzzled her hand. “She's got a natural way with horses, that one,” he said. “She sorta… hums to them, see, back home. They've all got a different tune they seem to like. It's nuts, but I'm darned if her little songs don't make feedin' time a heck of a lot easier.”

Mako put his arm around T'risa's shoulder, and everyone gave a little sigh of relief. “Of course, Coltor wouldn't hurt a fly, would you, boy?” cooed T'risa, ruffling her horse's mane. “Course you wouldn't. Not on purpose, anyway.”

Talon got a mischievous look in his eye. “Every time I come back, that horse gets a little stronger, or his coat looks a little shinier,” he said. “He'd make a fine mate for my Tani when she comes of age.”

“No,” said T'risa firmly. “He's mine. I wouldn't sell him for the Triforce itself.”

“Oh, stop pestering her,” laughed Marielle, giving her husband's arm a swat. “Come on, we'd better get going. Din knows what Ingo's got himself up to, left all alone back there.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I don't know what goes on in that boy's head. Can hardly take directions. It's like he thinks he owns the ranch, sometimes.” She shifted Malon onto her left hip. “So, you two'll be taking your usual milk, then? And I've got a new kind of horse feed I thought Coltor'd like to try.”

They made their way back to the cart and, after taking milk for the week and the back of fodder, bade the Lon family farewell. The tumult in the square had died down to almost nothing as the milk cart rolled out of the village. On their way home, T'risa dropped the cucco chick off with Anya's mother, who still looked a bit unsure about the whole arrangement.

Mako and T'risa arrived at their doorstep just as the sun started to wink over the horizon. T'risa had her hand on the knob and was about to go in when Mako cried out, and she turned around.

“W-wait,” he stammered, and T'risa was shocked to see that his face looked pale.

“Mako—!”

“Come on!” Without warning, Mako grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down the steps, where he broke into a run. It was all T'risa could do to keep up.

“Mako,” she gasped as they sprinted down the street. “Where are we going? Did you have another vision? What happened? Mako…!”

But her husband made no reply. His expression was a mix of fear and resolve as he pulled her swiftly along.

When he finally brought them to a stop, T'risa's heart skipped a beat. “Mako,” she said slowly, “what are we doing here?”

They were standing outside Brazze Querelekt's house.

I know it's cruel to cliffhang you after such a long time, but… oh well. It needed to be done. I promise I'll update again within the decade. O_o