Seven Years part 11

This is, in my mind, a cool post, though it could be argued that it is just filler. Have fun reading and reviewing it. The next part is done too, so it will not be too long for the next update. Enjoy!

The rain was still falling as Toran jogged out of the ranch at a fast clip; in fact, it was getting harder. About ten yards out his foot came down wrong, sliding on the wet grass and sending Toran sprawling in the mud. Cursing under his breath, the young warrior pushed himself back up. He had not wanted Shiek to see, but the lack of sleep he had endured over the past two days was staring to ware on him. Or rather, he had not wanted Princess Zelda to see.

I can NOT believe it. Shiek is a PRINCESS? Where in Narue’s name did THAT come from? And why does that ‘make things complicated?’ It’s not like the title “Princess of Hyrule” actually carries a lot of weight right about now.

Toran pondered Shiek’s true identity all the way to the cave. At least, he pondered it all the way to about 100 yards to the cave. At that point, he hit another mud patch brought on by the intensifying rain. Wiping out, Toran sprawled to the ground, sliding a good three feet. Pushing onto his hand and knees, Toran cursed under his breath. Pausing like that to catch his breath, noises from the cave started to catch his attention. He couldn’t make out words, but it sounded as thought there were two people talking. Pulling the sheath and katana down to hold ready in his left hand, Toran silently crept closer to the cave. Flattening himself against the wall, he listened to the voice inside.

“Nothing… you drug me here for absolutely nothing!” Toran could not remember ever hearing the gruff grow of a voice before.

“I swear to Din this is where their hideout is! I followed that little punk Toran here just this morning! I followed him to the lake entrance where he found Shiek, that’s when I jetted to get you. I just assumed they’d come here, where else could they go?” Toran clenched his katana a little harder. The high, arrogant twang to the voice made it easily recognizable, and the Shiekah accent was just the icing on the cake.

Keef… he sold us out! That little son of-

“I know better then to turn to you to find out where they went Keef, you incompetent Shiekah clod,” the first speaker retorted, “You, where else might this pitiful team hide?”

“Actually, I am surprised they aren’t here,” a new voice answered. Toran’s mind raced; where had he heard that voice before?

“They only other place they would go would be Impa’s House in the village, but I doubt Shiek would be foolish enough to go there; the village is too hot a spot for someone like that.”

“Keef, go to the village. Search that wizen crone’s hideout for this troublesome Shiekah. If they aren’t there find something that might tell us where they are.”

“I won’t let you down sir,”

“That, Keef, would be a welcomed first…” Toran still had no idea who he gruff voiced speaker was, but anyone who talked to Keef like this couldn’t be all THAT bad.

“And me sir?” Toran still could not place the third speaker, though he knew he had heard the voice somewhere.

“Ah yes, come with me. We have work to do…”

Toran sensed that this heralded the end of the conversation, and flattened himself against the cliff wall in the shadows. Out of the cave burst Gannondorf, Great King of Evil. Toran wasn’t really surprised; the growly and gruff voice had sounded exactly like he had overheard Shiek had described it to Impa after a nightmare many years ago. He stalked out about ten yards from the cave, heavy cape billowing behind him. Whirling, his cruel eyes focused on the tallish thick-shouldered figure following him. Toran could only see the mysterious third person’s back, but it was obvious that he wore the heavy armor of a Dark Knuckle. He also hefted a mighty axe, the traditional weapon of his kind. The axe and armor obviously was Dark Knuckle in style, but Toran was slightly confused. He, and Shiek, had always thought Dark Knuckles were automations; Golems incapable of independent thought or feeling. This one however, had been caring on a conversation with Keef and Gannondorf if Toran’s ears had served correctly. The Dark Knuckle glanced over its shoulder, as though it sensed someone staring. Toran was only able to catch a short glimpse of the pointed facial features before a heavily gauntleted hand snapped down the black visor. It only took seconds; there was no chance to recognize the dark warrior.

“What is it, knight?” Gannondorf asked, watching the Dark Knuckle closely.

“I am not sure, my lord, I thought I felt someone watching us…” cane the reply, strangely muffled from inside the heavy helmet.

“Keef!” thundered the vile tyrant, “get out here!”

The tall thin Shiekah sprinted out of the cave, muttering under his breath. Stopping in front of Gannondorf, he stood at a cocky angle.

“What the hell do you want,” his voice tried to sound composed and un-intimidated, but it held more then enough waver to prove otherwise.

“There may very well be someone here, though by Din I am temped to deny it simply to keep your perfect screw-up record in tact. Search the place thoroughly, and if there is someone around kill him.”

“Well, given that it would either have to be Toran or Shiek, I will have a load of fun,” Keef smiled wickedly.

Gannondorf rolled his eyes heavenward, obviously long past his toleration point for the cocky Shiekah.

“Just don’t screw-up… again… Come, knight!” With that, Gannondorf reached out and grabbed the Dark Knuckle by the arm. The two disappeared in a glowing swirl of purple light, leaving Keef alone out side the cave.

Toran considered his options. If Keef started by looking in the cave, or on the other side of the entrance, he could probably slip away before being seen. On the other hand, Toran had been waiting for nearly five years to have a valid excuse to beat the arrogant snot out of Keef, and now he had one.

“Don’t screw up again, Keef. Bloody mucker…” the obviously disgruntled Shiekah grumbled as he kicked at the ground, “that idiot thinks he can prance around just because he got to the throne first? Well, your time will come Ganny…” Keef meandered towards Toran, staring at the ground and obviously not overly concerned with the Dark Knuckle’s warning. He was just about to come close enough for Toran’s ambush, when he stopped.

“Screw it. Nobody’s here. It’s just that paranoid pet of Ganny’s showing off and trying to make me look bad. I’m out’a here.” With that, Keef turned and began to jog off in the general direction of Lake Hylia. Toran waited for him to get away, then slipped into the cave.

The place was a shambles. Gannondorf, Keef, and the ‘knight,’ had obviously torn everything up in an effort to find anything of use. Realizing the cave was lost, Toran grabbed a bag and began to gather anything worth keeping. After gathering some of his and Shiek’s clothes, the jar of oil he kept for his katana, and lots of Scela’s knives, throwing spikes, and arrows, he headed towards the door. It was then he remembered where something else might be. Going back into Shiek’s room, he carefully maneuvered around the wreckage that had once been Shiek’s bed. Apparently the Dark Knuckle had figured the best way to make sure nothing was hidden in the bed was to turn it into firewood; in Toran’s experience, people who held axes were prone to kill anything they found inconvenient. Walking to the far side of the room, Toran got down and began tapping the floor. Several years ago, he had pulled a massively funny prank on Draq. Draq had apparently not found it as funny, and Toran had spent the day running away from the large axe-wheeling warrior. After running himself out, Toran had adopted a strategy of stealth, and hid under Shiek’s bed. After what seemed an eternity, the door to the room had opened, but rather then Draq, Shiek walked in. Going to the corner of the room, she had pulled up a small floorboard and retrieved a box. Sitting cross-legged, she opened the box, and pulled something out, but given that her back was to Toran he was unable to see what it was. She appeared to be writing for several minuets, and only stopped when the sounds of an obviously frustrated Draq yelling for Toran reached her. She carefully replaced the items into the box, and returned it under the floor. Shiek had left the room with a sigh, rolling her eyes heavenward for patience. Toran snuck out shortly after. He had never told Shiek that he knew of her secret stow spot, but he never forgot about it either. He had tired to forget the beating Draq had given him, but unfortunately he had never forgot that either. It took awhile to find the exact spot, but eventually Toran heard a slightly hollow sound to his rapping. Pulling up the board was a little harder then he thought it would be but the small box was still there. Grabbing it up, he turned and left the cave.

The rain had stopped but the clouds still hung heavily over the plains. Toran planed on jogging back to the ranch as quickly as possible, but he found he could not resist the urge to peek at what Shiek went through so much trouble to hide. Sitting down, he opened the box, and nearly dropped it in surprise. It was a thin golden crown; obviously something only the royal family would have. A delicate gold band flattened into a small oval shape right where it would hit the center of Shiek’s forehead, the crown had three beautiful red jewels. They were shaped into triangles, and placed on the oval plate so as to make the sign of the Triforce. It was one of the most beautiful things Toran had ever seen, and undoubtedly the most expensive. Toran carefully moved the crown and picked up the other item in the box, a small green book. It too was marked with the sign of the Triforce, the three triangles embossed in gold on both the front and back covers. There was nothing else on the cover, so Toran flipped through a few pages. Page after page was filled with Shiek’s familiar tight handwriting. Turning back to the beginning, Toran read an entry.

Dingat 1^st

Impa says not to flirt with the garden boy like I do, but it’s so fun; he’s cute when he blushes. I had to try on a new dress for tomorrow’s ball. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t princess, then I wouldn’t have to dress up so much. And I swear these balls are so boring. I mean it’s MY twelfth birthday after all, shouldn’t I be the person who gets to decide what I do on it? I asked Impa that, and she told me not to be stubborn, and that one day I might regret things I wish for. Maybe she’s right, Impa is the smartest person in the world after all.

Dingat 3^rd

Sorry I didn’t write last night, but the ball went longer then anyone thought it would. I danced with father, Sir Gantz, and to snotty young nobles who’s names I forget. I actually slipped out back and talked with Cloue for part of the night. He started talking about time thyme though, so I slipped back into the dance hall…

Toran began thumbing through the pages again. Date in the top corner, two or three entries a week, Shiek’s handwriting; it must be a diary, and he was more interested in the more recent entries. He went to the first blank page, about four fifths into the book and started reading backwards.

Nevua 17^th

Horrible day. Funny how more and more of my entries are starting that way. I wish I had some of my older journals around so I could read about happier days. Too bad I used to start a new book every year, and lost them all. When you’re fleeing for your life ‘less important things’ like eleven little green books tend to get lost in the shuffle. Anyway, today we raided the Spirit Temple; or rather, we were wasted inside it. I don’t understand why everything goes so wrong. I’m trying to do the right thing, but it’s as though no one cares. Toran is very encouraging, but I’m afraid he’s staring to fall for me. He such a great guy, but I just can’t do that to Link. I was reading back over when I met Link, and I wish he was here now. Then maybe I wouldn’t have to deal with the confusion that I feel whenever Toran is near. I like it when he comforts me, and I wish he would hold me sometime, but at the same time I don’t want him to do either. I CAN’T fall for him! I love Link! Oh Impa, I wish you were here to help me.

Toran sat still with the book open on his lap, gazing off at nothing. He had never met this Link guy, but he was already fairly certain that he didn’t like him. The setting sun cut into his gaze, and Toran stood back up. It had been a late night after raiding the Spirit Temple, a long day’s run to the village, an all night run to find Shiek, a stressful half a day running Shiek to Lon Lon and waiting for her to wake, and a near brush with Gannondorf and his minions since he had last slept, and he wouldn’t get back to the ranch till midnight. Sighing, the young warrior began to jog, praying fervently to every god, goddess, spirit, and fairy he knew that there would be sleep awaiting him.