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The Legend of Zelda: Masks of Destiny
Masks disguise what is within them. Their characters infect the wearer, but usually only psychologically. Not in Termina. In Termina, evil is banished into masks. Wandering spirits are trapped in masks. And the wearers have no idea until the incarcerated soul has them. By then, it is too late, for they are possessed. The only way to escape their curse is to continue the spirit’s unfinished business, until it is satisfied and at peace. And only the strong-minded and courageous can survive this ordeal until the end of the curse. Yet few are strong-minded, or courageous, and the masks are loose in Termina, considered harmless by the oblivious citizens. The mask seller of the neighbouring kingdom, Hyrule, has employed the services of a young boy, who is as both strong-minded and courageous as the legendary Hero of Time, for one simple reason. He is the Hero of Time. Read on as Link continues his journey through destiny by freeing each spirit of Termina.
Episode One: The Master Thief
Link slips his face cautiously into the mask, and the spirit is released. It surges through the hood and into Link, taking over control of his brain and possessing his soul…
It was midnight in Clock Town. The town slept silently, the only sounds being the revolving Clock Tower and the very distant mooing of the chateau Romani cows. One of the only places showing signs of life in the town was the patient Curiosity Shop owner, awaiting customers, his regular seller, Sakon the Thief, or his faithful bird, Takkuri. So far it had been a quiet night. The other place was the milk bar, Latte, the only place in Termina where you could drink forbidden milk. The bar was full of the usual people; the last of the Indigo-Go’s, the world famous Zora Band, packing up from yet another successful concert and the usual depressed people, drowning their sorrows (the head of the semi-famous Gorman Troupe, Gorman, and the Captain of the Guards, Captain Viscen). However, there was one irregular visitor, sitting at the very far end of the bar, next to the stairs. He was the most unwelcome there, so he sat in the shadows, debating what to do next.
He was a young boy, wearing a green tunic and equally green shorts. His small cowhide boots were dusty from several long journeys and a beautiful sheath and shield were upon his back. His face though, was covered by a hood, crudely made and associated with evil men. Thieves. This young boy was one of these. At least a part of him was.
Link had felt knowledge of a history gush through him as he had put the mask on. This was the hood of one of the most notorious thieves to roam Termina. The only clue he had to calming the thief’s soul was a burning desire to find his rival.
He called over to the bartender, in a deep, rough voice. It was the type of voice owned by gangsters, the type of voice that meant business.
“Hey!”
The bartender walked over, calmly.
“Yes sir?” he asked.
“Has he been here?” the young boy asked, “Have you seen him?”
The bartender trembled. He had realised who this boy was. The great thief, Jolku. The most feared thief Termina. No, second most feared thief. The infamous Sakon was the most feared throughout the land. He stole in the dead of the night and sold all goods at the Curiosity shop. The victims of his theft never knew what he had taken until the morning, by which time the Curiosity Shop owner had set an extortionate price for it. Nobody knew why this system was in place, or why the guard didn’t do anything about it, but it was and they didn’t.
Jolku had been presumed dead two weeks ago, so how could it be possible for him to be here? The bartender dismissed this thought. You don’t argue with Jolku, whether he was dead or not.
“N-no sir? No one has seen him. You could ask Capt…” His voice trailed off.
“Are you mad?” the cold voice spat at him, “I can’t ask Viscen. He knows who I am. I’m just lucky he hasn’t seen me yet.” The thief grabbed the bartender by the scruff of the neck.
“You go and ask him,” he ordered, “Without drawing any attention to me, understand?”
The bartender nodded, and walked away. The thief watched him as he had a seemingly innocent conversation with Captain Viscen.
“Good Evening, Captain. What will you have?”
“The shame, “ the already drunken guard replied.
“How’s business?” the bartender asked, innocently.
“Ffffine. We think that we haf fffound the hideout of a Feef.”
“You mean the notorious Sakon?”
“Yeah, tha’sh him!”
Cool relief swept over the bartender.
“So where is it?”
“I can’t tell you, but I’ll giff you a clue. Ish in a cave by the riffer Ikana. Now where’sh my milk???”
“Just coming, sir,” and with that the bartender returned to the thief in the corner.
“Did you find out??”
“Yes sir,” the bartender replied, “the cave in Ikana Canyon. Though the guards may be searching the place, as they only found it recently.”
“Good,” the thief said and made to leave.
The trembling bartender paused before asking, “Aren’t you goin’ to pay for this?”, holding up the milk glass.
The thief wheeled around. Though, his eyes were covered in the shadow of his hood, the bartender could tell he was glaring at him with fury.
“What do you think?” the thief growled, and walked away.
As the bartender heard the door slam, he wished he had never even asked. Cool relief washed over him, thanking the goddesses that the thief had gone, and he returned to providing the Captain with his milk.
Link, or Jolku as he now was, removed something from his pocket as he stood under he flickering light of East Clock Town’s torch. It was his trustworthy weapon and tool, one of only two in Termina. This weapon had got him out of several scrapes, half of them with Sakon, and defeated several shocked guards. This tool had given him access to other people’s well-hidden fortunes. His hookshot. It had a shining metal arrowhead, connected by a steel chain to the golden trigger section.
He aimed it at the belfry atop the Stock Pot in and activated it. The metal head glinted in the light of the flame, as it sped through the air, the steel chain trailing behind it. With a satisfying, wooden thud, it embedded itself in the belfry. The section that Link held began to retract the chain, pulling him into the air. He landed softly on the balcony of the inn and put his trusty device away. He waked to the door and opened it. This was a much simpler method of entry than picking the locked door below. He sneaked swiftly yet silently to the knife chamber, his hired room and opened the door. He scurried around the room, picking up his belongings and placing them carefully in a sack. Purses, a blanket, his remaining food, a change of clothes, his bow and arrow; everything he owned was put in his sack. He then lay on the bed, in order to gain a few hours sleep before his journey.
Link dreamed a dream that wasn’t his. It was terrifyingly clear, as though it was really happening. As Link watched the events unfurl, he realised that this wasn’t a dream, but memories of Jolku.
The horse was now tired. So was he. His steed trotted slowly through the woods, his homeland behind him, and his target before him. Somewhere. Despite it being near to noon, the forest was surprisingly dingy and dark, with only a few rays of sun filtering the roof of leaves.
Due to weariness, the sack on his bag seemed to be heavier than usual. He strained to lift his head, but he managed it. Ahead of him was a large tunnel cut into an immense tree. A horse was tied to a nearby tree. He recognised it as his rival’s. Strength surged through him from the knowledge that his target was somewhere nearby. He stared into the murky abyss of the tunnel and felt for certain that he was in there.
The world faded away to reveal memories from even further back in time.
The market place in Castle Town, Hyrule, materialised. He looked around. Standing nonchalantly, in the shadow of a market stall, he could see his target. He walked slowly toward him. The man looked up. He was bald, wearing a white tunic and blue trousers.
“What can I do for you?” Sakon, for it was he, asked in a hoarse voice.
“You have done something for me already,” he replied
A smile of false charm, then, “And what would that be?”
“You killed my family”
There was a pause, before the reply.
“Are you thanking me?”
“No,” he replied, smiling with equal false charm, “I am getting my revenge.”
His hand reached for his sword and he drew it with lightning speed. Sakon had seen this coming and had leapt backward. Performing a backward somersault and landing halfway up a stack of boxes. He ran forward as Sakon performed another backward somersault and disappeared. He climbed the stack frantically, only to be faced with an empty alleyway when he looked over the top. The world dematerialised again, and the scene in the forest returned. He ran forward and into the tunnel. On the other side were several tree stumps, from which he jumped to yet another tunnel.
Inside, it was like a cave. He stood still and listened. Cautious footsteps echoed through the cave. He ran forward once more… and fell down a seemingly, bottomless chasm…
Link now recognised it as the gateway to Termina, through which he himself had travelled when chasing the Skull Kid.
He awoke to the sound of the morning bells. He cursed, having wasted valuable time. In the light of day he would have to move quickly, else the guards would see him, recognise him, and arrest him. If this happened, he would never be able to have his revenge. He leapt out of bed. Grabbing the room key on the table and the sack by the door, he left the room. He locked the room using the key, and left it in the lock. He then ran to the door he had used last night and departed from the inn.
Outside, the town was bustling with tourists going in the attractions such as the shooting gallery, and the treasure chest shop. He walked along the balcony, onto the thatched porch and dropped down onto the cobbled street. He ran quickly the main marketplace, South Clock Town.
The festival had recently ended, so once more the carpenters were at work, taking down the moon viewing tower, and the bridge joining it to the clock tower. Except that they hadn’t started yet. The head of the carpenters had them gathered around him, and he was giving yet another “Hard Work” lecture. Jolku climbed up to the locked Clock Tower door and ran along the bridge. This, as he had expected had caught the eye of the guard at the gate. He knew this had been inevitable but if he ran, he would be able gain enough speed to escape the guards.
“Friends, to me!!” The guard yelled, “Jolku is here!!”
Several guards appeared as if from nowhere, each carrying a spear. Captain Viscen, with what seemed to be a ferocious hangover was leading them.
“Ready, Aim,” he ordered, clutching his aching head, “FIRE!”
Every guard in the area began throwing their spear. Jolku ran on, spears narrowly missing him, both in front and behind, as well to his left and his right. He removed the hookshot once more. Aiming while running was difficult, but he had achieved it before. He aimed for the roof of the Southern gate and activated the hookshot. The arrowhead sped along once more, while Jolku had to stand still, in order to avoid distorting the shot. Out of the corner of his eye, Captain Viscen, the only guard with his spear left, was aiming at Jolku, atop the moon-viewing tower. The guards were trained, Jolku knew, to hit a stationary target, even when drunk. The spear left Viscen’s hand and flew through the air towards him. It was going to be a direct hit. Just as the spear was within an inch of his arm, he was suddenly pulled into the air by the hookshot. He soared over the bewildered guards and was pulled into the shelter of the gate’s thatched roof. He heard the voice of Viscen order the others to “Leave him. We have bigger fish to fry!”
It took a lot of rustling and forcing his way through, but Jolku finally managed to crawl through the thatched roof into the fresh air of Termina Field. He leapt down from the wall, landing softly on the grass. Checking to see that no one was around, he let out a high-pitched whistle. There was the sound of a horse galloping, and moments later, his trusty steed emerged from Milk Road.
Her name was Thundra, on account of her loud, yet majestic gallop. She was a fully-grown horse now, with shining black fur, and an elegant grey mane. Jolku had raised her from a foal, and she was one hundred percent loyal to him. He climbed swiftly and expertly onto her back and rode forward. They headed west and a gentle gallop. Presently, they came to the fence blocking access to Great Bay. Jolku made her gallop at full speed and they sped towards the fence. The wind flowing through his hair, the gentle graceful swaying of her mane, and the reassuring pounding of her feet on the sand was a familiar and magnificent experience. As she leapt over the wall, Jolku closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the wind. He opened his eyes and looked ahead. Over the top of the gorge through which they travelled, Jolku could see the shimmering sea and the murky grey rain clouds heading towards them. Jolku slowed Thundra to a trot and they slowly, and calmly, rode through the gorge towards the beach.
Thunder crashed as the rain beat down on the weary thief and his horse. They trotted slowly into the main area of Great Bay. Normally bustling with tourists, this popular holiday resort remained deserted due to the excessive rain. Jolku watched gloomily as fork lightning licked at the distant horizon. He rode into the area with the only two buildings; the fisherman’s shop and the abandoned house. He rode up to the house, dismounted and led Thundra inside, not having the heart to leave her outside. He lay his sack on the dusty floor and removed his blanket and candles. He lit one candle and lay out his blanket. He lay his wet clothes on the floor, near to the heat of the candle, and changed into his only spare ones.
“Thundra,” he told his horse, knowing that she understood him. They had been through a lot together since… since the incident with Sakon, back in Hyrule.
“I’m going to get a few hours sleep before… before tonight. You have some rest too, but keep an eye out for anyone.”
The horse nodded solemnly. Throughout their life, no matter where they had hidden, this had always been the system. Thanks to a gentle nudge from Thundra, Jolku had avoided capture several time.
He lay on the blanket and settled down to sleep.
Once more, Link dreamed a dream that wasn’t his. Yet more memories of Jolku’s experience soared through Link’s mind.
Thundra, the young foal, nuzzled him gently. He opened his eyes, only to become face to face with his faithful horse.
“What is it, girl?” he asked, quietly.
She grunted and walked out of the room. Hylians often wondered why the horse was allowed into the refurbished Lakeside Laboratory, now lived in by a respectable family, but had never questioned it. Jolku rose from his bed, sneaking quietly towards the door, without awakening his family. His mother, father and younger sister remained asleep. He opened the door quietly and slipped out to join Thundra.
Thundra stood looking out to the lone island in Lake Hylia. In the darkness of the night, Jolku couldn’t see what she was looking at. Then he saw it. A human silhouette, creeping towards the house, towards the unstable wooden bridges. The human was carrying a sword. Jolku ran inside and grabbed his belt, with his sheathed sword. He put the belt on, the belt going from his right shoulder to his left hip, and the sword behind him. He ran outside and climbed onto Thundra. They galloped toward the lone island between the two bridges. And stopped there, awaiting the figure. It presently stopped before them.
“Halt!” Jolku barked, “Who goes there?”
“Get out of my way, liddle kid,” was the reply.
Jolku drew his sword. It was not unlike the legendary Kokiri sword. He dropped down from Thundra’s back.
“I said,” he repeated, more firmly this time, “Who goes there?”
“You want a piece of me?” the figure asked, “That’s funny, kid, real funny.”
The two circled around a couple of times, swords ready. The figure stopped when he was on the island and Jolku was on the bridge.
“Why do you take a quick dip?” it asked, sarcastically.
Jolku saw the rapid movement of the figure’s sword, and watched in horror as the rope holding the bridge up snapped. The bridge fell towards the dark water, and Jolku plunged into the lake’s murky depths. Striking out with his feet, he swam towards the centre island. It took him a long time, during which he stopped once or twice to see where the figure was. When he finally reached the island, he looked towards his house. He then witnessed the worst event in his life. He watched the figure enter his house. He heard the screams of his startled, then dying family. He watched it come out with a large sack, and a flaming torch. And he watched, terrified, as it set the house alight. Jolku dived into the water and swam frantically towards the house. By the time he was halfway across, the moon sank, and the sky turned a pleasant pink colour. The figure still stood there, admiring his work and gloating at his triumph. It was Sakon, the feared thief of Hyrule. Jolku swam quicker, but by the time he crawled, exasperated and exhausted, onto the beach by the Zora ruins, Sakon had stolen his father’s horse and galloped off.
Thundra trotted up beside him and grunted soothingly. Jolku waked to his the charred remain of his house. Everything had been burnt to a crisp, including the bodies of his sister and his parents. He considered salvaging things before his journey of revenge, but there was nothing to salvage.
He climbed onto Thundra once more, gave a remorseful last look at his home and rode off.
The world disappeared once more, and was replaced by the beaver’s home in Zora Cape. Jolku crept cautiously towards the entrance, sword drawn. He had followed Sakon for four years, during which he had turned to and mastered a life of crime in order to sustain himself and Thundra, who now hid in a cave below him. For the previous six months, he had stayed in Termina. Somewhere in this land was Sakon’s true hideout. Not like his hyrulian one, (a small cave near Death Mountain), but his actual home. Jolku himself had managed to secure a hideout where the beavers had once lived, (he had found it mysteriously empty) and was sure that Sakon didn’t know where it was, for only Jolku could access the hideout thanks to his hookshot. Yet now, he heard someone outside. No down below on the beach, but on the thin ledge outside the entrance.
He crept outside and came face to face with Sakon. He leapt back and employed a defensive position, both his sword and shield drawn.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I know you’ve been following me, kid. For four years, ever since we met that night.”
“You killed my family! I will have my revenge. How did you get up here?”
“I got a lift from a friend.”
At that moment, there was a terrific flash of light in the air next to Sakon, and an old lady appeared. She seemed to be very old, and was hovering on a broomstick in mid-air.
“Is this the one giving you problems, Sakon?” the old hag asked.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
The witch pointed at Jolku, sparks flying form her finger.
“Well,” she said, cackling, “We’ll have to… dispose of him.”
The sparks grew into a ball of lightning and sped through the air towards Jolku. As it hit him, there was another blinding flash of light. When it cleared, Jolku was not there. Only his hood floated in mid-air.
“Thank you, Kotake,” Sakon said to the witch.
Kotake cackled and replied, “So long as you don’t tell Koume. She hates Black Magic, but I think it provides the most entertainment.” She let out another, louder cackle and disappeared in an explosion of light.
Sakon grabbed the hood and looked into it.
“May your soul be forever tortured, kid.”
And with that he threw it into the air, watching it being carried inland by the wind.
Link’s mind mulled over these memories, now feeling sympathetic to the young criminal. He now understood why he had turned to crime, and how he had been trapped in this mask. He also understood what to do in order to fulfil Jolku’s destiny.
He awoke slowly, feeling properly rested. Thundra lay half asleep by the door. It was now sunny, and Jolku relaxed for a moment in the sunlight. He then urged Thundra to wake up, as he collected his belongings. He slung the sack over his back, and climbed onto Thundra. The horse trotted out to the gorge and then proceeded to gallop at full speed.
It was a pleasant ride through Termina Field. Jolku passed Clock Town to the North, passing the wonderful mountains and enjoying the sound of Thundra’s hooves pressing into the snow. Around them, the great Dodongos thundered past, ignoring anything that didn’t pose a threat to them. Jolku marvelled at such spectacular creatures. When they had passed, he steered Thundra up the slope and towards the road to Ikana Canyon. When he had first entered this land, real bombchus roamed this path through the Canyon. He had heard tales of a young boy, defeating an evil imp, and ridding the world of evil creatures, such as the bombchus. He rode at full speed toward the fences in order for Thundra to gain enough speed to clear them. She did so with great ease, and he slowed her to a standstill, riding behind the cover of a rock column. Several guards, including a now sober Captain Viscen, were staring in bewilderment at the cliff face between them and the village of Ikana Canyon. Jolku rummaged around in his sack for something and placed the object in his pocket. He tied the sack to Thundra’s saddle.
“Take this, and hide,” he said. He read the look in her eyes, and comforted her.
“I’ll be fine. You just hide somewhere safe and I’ll pick you up when I have finished. Then we will go home. To Hyrule…” His voice trailed off. Hyrule. He had missed the beautiful land, but soon, very soon, he would return there, after two years of following Sakon away from it.
He snapped out of it.
“Hide in the Goron shrine in the Mountainside village. I’ll be back soon.”
She nodded and galloped away. He waited until he couldn’t hear her, and then returned his attention to the guards.
He sneaked up quietly behind them. They were all gathered into a circle, gaping up at the lonely tree atop the cliff. Jolku removed two items from his pocket; the hookshot in his left hand, and the Deku Nut form his sack in his right hand. He threw the Nut onto the floor in the centre of the guards’ circle. They all froze, victims to the Nut’s mysterious powder. At the same instant, Jolku aimed the hookshot at the lonely tree and fired. The arrowhead sped through he air once more, embedding itself in the trunk and pulling him into the air. He landed softly on the top of the cliff and ran forward. Behind him he heard a dazed guard ask, “What just happened?”
It took him quite a while to reach the river. He had run all of the way, yet the gorge was surprisingly long. By the river was a wooden platform. He walked to the water’s edge, cupped his hands and drank the clear water that he scooped out. Termina water tasted very unique but wasn’t a patch on the taste of Hyrule’s. His strength regained he pressed on along the river’s edge. He noticed with mild interest that the sun was now setting. In the shadow of the towering cliffs he sneaked stealthily along the path. Presently he reached the end. What may have been a cave entrance was on his right and was blocked by an immense boulder. He pushed on it for several seconds but didn’t mane to move it. He sat down, with his back against it, exhausted once more. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a lone stick wedged in the ground. He stood up and looked at it carefully. There was a crack in the ground, allowing it to move back and forth. He moved it like a lever and stood there for a moment. Nothing happened. Jolku was just deciding that he hadn’t known what he had expected to happen when the boulder began to move. It grinded back into the cave, leaving enough space for a human to enter. Jolku drew his sword and ran inside.
He ran into a room, with a few crates stacked to one side. The boulder behind him began moving again. It closed the entrance behind him, trapping him in the cavern. Jolku walked boldly towards the door ahead and entered Sakon’s hideout.
Sakon used to have some ingenious puzzles installed, involving switches that had to be held down on two sides of an impenetrable conveyer belt, meaning that any infiltrators would have to have a friend with them. This had served for many years, until recently, when two young boys had broken through and stolen the Sun’s Mask from him, the greatest prize he had ever taken. He had had his friend Kotake change the room, giving her an excuse to use Black Magic and leaving him with an arena in which he could fight any enemies that waked in. He had even signed up to a month’s worth of training with the swordsmaster of Clock Town, but this had been stopped when he used his skills to kill a guard and the swordsmaster wanted nothing to do with him.
‘Still’, he thought, as Jolku walked in, ‘that training would suffice for this battle.’
He sat on his throne at the far end of the room, opposite the door. It was a magnificent throne, stolen from the remains of Ikana Castle when he had heard that the spirit of Igor de Ikana, and his “unthinkable” warriors had disappeared. He stood up, facing Jolku.
“You don’t give up, do you kid.”
“I’m tougher than I look,” Jolku replied.
Sakon grinned wickedly.
“We’ll just see about that.” He leapt into the air, pulling one of his swords from its sheath, attached to the ceiling. He landed on one side of the painted battle circle on the floor, sword in hand and pointed at Jolku. Jolku ran forward. As he neared Sakon, he lunged with is sword, but the thief had see this coming and somersaulted over his attacker. Jolku slid to a stop and wheeled around, quick enough to see Sakon’s sword bearing down upon him. He leapt to the side, and swung his sword at his enemy. Sakon dodged this, but only slightly, as a gash appeared in his tunic. He stared at this in disbelief, and then turned to Jolku, flames of anger burning in his eyes. He emitted an ear-piercing war cry and leapt into the air for a jump attack. Jolku back-flipped away and swung his sword once more. This time, he managed to cut Sakon’s arm, leading to the thief yelling in pain. Swapping his sword to his uninjured arm, Sakon wielded it frantically through the air, missing Jolku, who kept leaping and back-flipping to avoid his enemy’s sword. As Sakon ran for a final lunge, Jolku leapt, somersaulting over Sakon, as he neared the ground he span in the air, swinging his sword with all the strength he could muster. The lethal blade cut through Sakon’s back and piercing his heart. As he landed, he sheathed his sword in one swift movement.
He stood up to his full height a power surging through him. The hood lifted into the air, freeing Link from the mind of Jolku. The hood floated forward and hovered in mid-air. Link watched in amazement as a semi-transparent body extended through the neck hole in the hood. Link saw Jolku’s spirit look at him, as if puzzled. He wore a black tunic and black shorts. His crudely made hood covered his face. The spirit looked at the body of the former master thief and turned to Link.
“Thank you,” it said, and faded away. Link waited until Jolku’s soul had disappeared completely then walked slowly towards the door, preparing for the journey back to Clock Town.
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Masks disguise what is within them. Their characters infect the wearer, but usually only psychologically. Not in Termina. In Termina, evil is banished into masks. Wandering spirits are trapped in masks. And the wearers have no idea until the incarcerated soul has them. By then, it is too late, for they are possessed. The only way to escape their curse is to continue the spirit’s unfinished business, until it is satisfied and at peace. And only the strong-minded and courageous can survive this ordeal until the end of the curse. Yet few are strong-minded, or courageous, and the masks are loose in Termina, considered harmless by the oblivious citizens. The mask seller of the neighbouring kingdom, Hyrule, has employed the services of a young boy, who is as both strong-minded and courageous as the legendary Hero of Time, for one simple reason. He is the Hero of Time. Read on as Link continues his journey through destiny by freeing each spirit of Termina.
Episode One: The Master Thief
Link slips his face cautiously into the mask, and the spirit is released. It surges through the hood and into Link, taking over control of his brain and possessing his soul…
It was midnight in Clock Town. The town slept silently, the only sounds being the revolving Clock Tower and the very distant mooing of the chateau Romani cows. One of the only places showing signs of life in the town was the patient Curiosity Shop owner, awaiting customers, his regular seller, Sakon the Thief, or his faithful bird, Takkuri. So far it had been a quiet night. The other place was the milk bar, Latte, the only place in Termina where you could drink forbidden milk. The bar was full of the usual people; the last of the Indigo-Go’s, the world famous Zora Band, packing up from yet another successful concert and the usual depressed people, drowning their sorrows (the head of the semi-famous Gorman Troupe, Gorman, and the Captain of the Guards, Captain Viscen). However, there was one irregular visitor, sitting at the very far end of the bar, next to the stairs. He was the most unwelcome there, so he sat in the shadows, debating what to do next.
He was a young boy, wearing a green tunic and equally green shorts. His small cowhide boots were dusty from several long journeys and a beautiful sheath and shield were upon his back. His face though, was covered by a hood, crudely made and associated with evil men. Thieves. This young boy was one of these. At least a part of him was.
Link had felt knowledge of a history gush through him as he had put the mask on. This was the hood of one of the most notorious thieves to roam Termina. The only clue he had to calming the thief’s soul was a burning desire to find his rival.
He called over to the bartender, in a deep, rough voice. It was the type of voice owned by gangsters, the type of voice that meant business.
“Hey!”
The bartender walked over, calmly.
“Yes sir?” he asked.
“Has he been here?” the young boy asked, “Have you seen him?”
The bartender trembled. He had realised who this boy was. The great thief, Jolku. The most feared thief Termina. No, second most feared thief. The infamous Sakon was the most feared throughout the land. He stole in the dead of the night and sold all goods at the Curiosity shop. The victims of his theft never knew what he had taken until the morning, by which time the Curiosity Shop owner had set an extortionate price for it. Nobody knew why this system was in place, or why the guard didn’t do anything about it, but it was and they didn’t.
Jolku had been presumed dead two weeks ago, so how could it be possible for him to be here? The bartender dismissed this thought. You don’t argue with Jolku, whether he was dead or not.
“N-no sir? No one has seen him. You could ask Capt…” His voice trailed off.
“Are you mad?” the cold voice spat at him, “I can’t ask Viscen. He knows who I am. I’m just lucky he hasn’t seen me yet.” The thief grabbed the bartender by the scruff of the neck.
“You go and ask him,” he ordered, “Without drawing any attention to me, understand?”
The bartender nodded, and walked away. The thief watched him as he had a seemingly innocent conversation with Captain Viscen.
“Good Evening, Captain. What will you have?”
“The shame, “ the already drunken guard replied.
“How’s business?” the bartender asked, innocently.
“Ffffine. We think that we haf fffound the hideout of a Feef.”
“You mean the notorious Sakon?”
“Yeah, tha’sh him!”
Cool relief swept over the bartender.
“So where is it?”
“I can’t tell you, but I’ll giff you a clue. Ish in a cave by the riffer Ikana. Now where’sh my milk???”
“Just coming, sir,” and with that the bartender returned to the thief in the corner.
“Did you find out??”
“Yes sir,” the bartender replied, “the cave in Ikana Canyon. Though the guards may be searching the place, as they only found it recently.”
“Good,” the thief said and made to leave.
The trembling bartender paused before asking, “Aren’t you goin’ to pay for this?”, holding up the milk glass.
The thief wheeled around. Though, his eyes were covered in the shadow of his hood, the bartender could tell he was glaring at him with fury.
“What do you think?” the thief growled, and walked away.
As the bartender heard the door slam, he wished he had never even asked. Cool relief washed over him, thanking the goddesses that the thief had gone, and he returned to providing the Captain with his milk.
Link, or Jolku as he now was, removed something from his pocket as he stood under he flickering light of East Clock Town’s torch. It was his trustworthy weapon and tool, one of only two in Termina. This weapon had got him out of several scrapes, half of them with Sakon, and defeated several shocked guards. This tool had given him access to other people’s well-hidden fortunes. His hookshot. It had a shining metal arrowhead, connected by a steel chain to the golden trigger section.
He aimed it at the belfry atop the Stock Pot in and activated it. The metal head glinted in the light of the flame, as it sped through the air, the steel chain trailing behind it. With a satisfying, wooden thud, it embedded itself in the belfry. The section that Link held began to retract the chain, pulling him into the air. He landed softly on the balcony of the inn and put his trusty device away. He waked to the door and opened it. This was a much simpler method of entry than picking the locked door below. He sneaked swiftly yet silently to the knife chamber, his hired room and opened the door. He scurried around the room, picking up his belongings and placing them carefully in a sack. Purses, a blanket, his remaining food, a change of clothes, his bow and arrow; everything he owned was put in his sack. He then lay on the bed, in order to gain a few hours sleep before his journey.
Link dreamed a dream that wasn’t his. It was terrifyingly clear, as though it was really happening. As Link watched the events unfurl, he realised that this wasn’t a dream, but memories of Jolku.
The horse was now tired. So was he. His steed trotted slowly through the woods, his homeland behind him, and his target before him. Somewhere. Despite it being near to noon, the forest was surprisingly dingy and dark, with only a few rays of sun filtering the roof of leaves.
Due to weariness, the sack on his bag seemed to be heavier than usual. He strained to lift his head, but he managed it. Ahead of him was a large tunnel cut into an immense tree. A horse was tied to a nearby tree. He recognised it as his rival’s. Strength surged through him from the knowledge that his target was somewhere nearby. He stared into the murky abyss of the tunnel and felt for certain that he was in there.
The world faded away to reveal memories from even further back in time.
The market place in Castle Town, Hyrule, materialised. He looked around. Standing nonchalantly, in the shadow of a market stall, he could see his target. He walked slowly toward him. The man looked up. He was bald, wearing a white tunic and blue trousers.
“What can I do for you?” Sakon, for it was he, asked in a hoarse voice.
“You have done something for me already,” he replied
A smile of false charm, then, “And what would that be?”
“You killed my family”
There was a pause, before the reply.
“Are you thanking me?”
“No,” he replied, smiling with equal false charm, “I am getting my revenge.”
His hand reached for his sword and he drew it with lightning speed. Sakon had seen this coming and had leapt backward. Performing a backward somersault and landing halfway up a stack of boxes. He ran forward as Sakon performed another backward somersault and disappeared. He climbed the stack frantically, only to be faced with an empty alleyway when he looked over the top. The world dematerialised again, and the scene in the forest returned. He ran forward and into the tunnel. On the other side were several tree stumps, from which he jumped to yet another tunnel.
Inside, it was like a cave. He stood still and listened. Cautious footsteps echoed through the cave. He ran forward once more… and fell down a seemingly, bottomless chasm…
Link now recognised it as the gateway to Termina, through which he himself had travelled when chasing the Skull Kid.
He awoke to the sound of the morning bells. He cursed, having wasted valuable time. In the light of day he would have to move quickly, else the guards would see him, recognise him, and arrest him. If this happened, he would never be able to have his revenge. He leapt out of bed. Grabbing the room key on the table and the sack by the door, he left the room. He locked the room using the key, and left it in the lock. He then ran to the door he had used last night and departed from the inn.
Outside, the town was bustling with tourists going in the attractions such as the shooting gallery, and the treasure chest shop. He walked along the balcony, onto the thatched porch and dropped down onto the cobbled street. He ran quickly the main marketplace, South Clock Town.
The festival had recently ended, so once more the carpenters were at work, taking down the moon viewing tower, and the bridge joining it to the clock tower. Except that they hadn’t started yet. The head of the carpenters had them gathered around him, and he was giving yet another “Hard Work” lecture. Jolku climbed up to the locked Clock Tower door and ran along the bridge. This, as he had expected had caught the eye of the guard at the gate. He knew this had been inevitable but if he ran, he would be able gain enough speed to escape the guards.
“Friends, to me!!” The guard yelled, “Jolku is here!!”
Several guards appeared as if from nowhere, each carrying a spear. Captain Viscen, with what seemed to be a ferocious hangover was leading them.
“Ready, Aim,” he ordered, clutching his aching head, “FIRE!”
Every guard in the area began throwing their spear. Jolku ran on, spears narrowly missing him, both in front and behind, as well to his left and his right. He removed the hookshot once more. Aiming while running was difficult, but he had achieved it before. He aimed for the roof of the Southern gate and activated the hookshot. The arrowhead sped along once more, while Jolku had to stand still, in order to avoid distorting the shot. Out of the corner of his eye, Captain Viscen, the only guard with his spear left, was aiming at Jolku, atop the moon-viewing tower. The guards were trained, Jolku knew, to hit a stationary target, even when drunk. The spear left Viscen’s hand and flew through the air towards him. It was going to be a direct hit. Just as the spear was within an inch of his arm, he was suddenly pulled into the air by the hookshot. He soared over the bewildered guards and was pulled into the shelter of the gate’s thatched roof. He heard the voice of Viscen order the others to “Leave him. We have bigger fish to fry!”
It took a lot of rustling and forcing his way through, but Jolku finally managed to crawl through the thatched roof into the fresh air of Termina Field. He leapt down from the wall, landing softly on the grass. Checking to see that no one was around, he let out a high-pitched whistle. There was the sound of a horse galloping, and moments later, his trusty steed emerged from Milk Road.
Her name was Thundra, on account of her loud, yet majestic gallop. She was a fully-grown horse now, with shining black fur, and an elegant grey mane. Jolku had raised her from a foal, and she was one hundred percent loyal to him. He climbed swiftly and expertly onto her back and rode forward. They headed west and a gentle gallop. Presently, they came to the fence blocking access to Great Bay. Jolku made her gallop at full speed and they sped towards the fence. The wind flowing through his hair, the gentle graceful swaying of her mane, and the reassuring pounding of her feet on the sand was a familiar and magnificent experience. As she leapt over the wall, Jolku closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the wind. He opened his eyes and looked ahead. Over the top of the gorge through which they travelled, Jolku could see the shimmering sea and the murky grey rain clouds heading towards them. Jolku slowed Thundra to a trot and they slowly, and calmly, rode through the gorge towards the beach.
Thunder crashed as the rain beat down on the weary thief and his horse. They trotted slowly into the main area of Great Bay. Normally bustling with tourists, this popular holiday resort remained deserted due to the excessive rain. Jolku watched gloomily as fork lightning licked at the distant horizon. He rode into the area with the only two buildings; the fisherman’s shop and the abandoned house. He rode up to the house, dismounted and led Thundra inside, not having the heart to leave her outside. He lay his sack on the dusty floor and removed his blanket and candles. He lit one candle and lay out his blanket. He lay his wet clothes on the floor, near to the heat of the candle, and changed into his only spare ones.
“Thundra,” he told his horse, knowing that she understood him. They had been through a lot together since… since the incident with Sakon, back in Hyrule.
“I’m going to get a few hours sleep before… before tonight. You have some rest too, but keep an eye out for anyone.”
The horse nodded solemnly. Throughout their life, no matter where they had hidden, this had always been the system. Thanks to a gentle nudge from Thundra, Jolku had avoided capture several time.
He lay on the blanket and settled down to sleep.
Once more, Link dreamed a dream that wasn’t his. Yet more memories of Jolku’s experience soared through Link’s mind.
Thundra, the young foal, nuzzled him gently. He opened his eyes, only to become face to face with his faithful horse.
“What is it, girl?” he asked, quietly.
She grunted and walked out of the room. Hylians often wondered why the horse was allowed into the refurbished Lakeside Laboratory, now lived in by a respectable family, but had never questioned it. Jolku rose from his bed, sneaking quietly towards the door, without awakening his family. His mother, father and younger sister remained asleep. He opened the door quietly and slipped out to join Thundra.
Thundra stood looking out to the lone island in Lake Hylia. In the darkness of the night, Jolku couldn’t see what she was looking at. Then he saw it. A human silhouette, creeping towards the house, towards the unstable wooden bridges. The human was carrying a sword. Jolku ran inside and grabbed his belt, with his sheathed sword. He put the belt on, the belt going from his right shoulder to his left hip, and the sword behind him. He ran outside and climbed onto Thundra. They galloped toward the lone island between the two bridges. And stopped there, awaiting the figure. It presently stopped before them.
“Halt!” Jolku barked, “Who goes there?”
“Get out of my way, liddle kid,” was the reply.
Jolku drew his sword. It was not unlike the legendary Kokiri sword. He dropped down from Thundra’s back.
“I said,” he repeated, more firmly this time, “Who goes there?”
“You want a piece of me?” the figure asked, “That’s funny, kid, real funny.”
The two circled around a couple of times, swords ready. The figure stopped when he was on the island and Jolku was on the bridge.
“Why do you take a quick dip?” it asked, sarcastically.
Jolku saw the rapid movement of the figure’s sword, and watched in horror as the rope holding the bridge up snapped. The bridge fell towards the dark water, and Jolku plunged into the lake’s murky depths. Striking out with his feet, he swam towards the centre island. It took him a long time, during which he stopped once or twice to see where the figure was. When he finally reached the island, he looked towards his house. He then witnessed the worst event in his life. He watched the figure enter his house. He heard the screams of his startled, then dying family. He watched it come out with a large sack, and a flaming torch. And he watched, terrified, as it set the house alight. Jolku dived into the water and swam frantically towards the house. By the time he was halfway across, the moon sank, and the sky turned a pleasant pink colour. The figure still stood there, admiring his work and gloating at his triumph. It was Sakon, the feared thief of Hyrule. Jolku swam quicker, but by the time he crawled, exasperated and exhausted, onto the beach by the Zora ruins, Sakon had stolen his father’s horse and galloped off.
Thundra trotted up beside him and grunted soothingly. Jolku waked to his the charred remain of his house. Everything had been burnt to a crisp, including the bodies of his sister and his parents. He considered salvaging things before his journey of revenge, but there was nothing to salvage.
He climbed onto Thundra once more, gave a remorseful last look at his home and rode off.
The world disappeared once more, and was replaced by the beaver’s home in Zora Cape. Jolku crept cautiously towards the entrance, sword drawn. He had followed Sakon for four years, during which he had turned to and mastered a life of crime in order to sustain himself and Thundra, who now hid in a cave below him. For the previous six months, he had stayed in Termina. Somewhere in this land was Sakon’s true hideout. Not like his hyrulian one, (a small cave near Death Mountain), but his actual home. Jolku himself had managed to secure a hideout where the beavers had once lived, (he had found it mysteriously empty) and was sure that Sakon didn’t know where it was, for only Jolku could access the hideout thanks to his hookshot. Yet now, he heard someone outside. No down below on the beach, but on the thin ledge outside the entrance.
He crept outside and came face to face with Sakon. He leapt back and employed a defensive position, both his sword and shield drawn.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I know you’ve been following me, kid. For four years, ever since we met that night.”
“You killed my family! I will have my revenge. How did you get up here?”
“I got a lift from a friend.”
At that moment, there was a terrific flash of light in the air next to Sakon, and an old lady appeared. She seemed to be very old, and was hovering on a broomstick in mid-air.
“Is this the one giving you problems, Sakon?” the old hag asked.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
The witch pointed at Jolku, sparks flying form her finger.
“Well,” she said, cackling, “We’ll have to… dispose of him.”
The sparks grew into a ball of lightning and sped through the air towards Jolku. As it hit him, there was another blinding flash of light. When it cleared, Jolku was not there. Only his hood floated in mid-air.
“Thank you, Kotake,” Sakon said to the witch.
Kotake cackled and replied, “So long as you don’t tell Koume. She hates Black Magic, but I think it provides the most entertainment.” She let out another, louder cackle and disappeared in an explosion of light.
Sakon grabbed the hood and looked into it.
“May your soul be forever tortured, kid.”
And with that he threw it into the air, watching it being carried inland by the wind.
Link’s mind mulled over these memories, now feeling sympathetic to the young criminal. He now understood why he had turned to crime, and how he had been trapped in this mask. He also understood what to do in order to fulfil Jolku’s destiny.
He awoke slowly, feeling properly rested. Thundra lay half asleep by the door. It was now sunny, and Jolku relaxed for a moment in the sunlight. He then urged Thundra to wake up, as he collected his belongings. He slung the sack over his back, and climbed onto Thundra. The horse trotted out to the gorge and then proceeded to gallop at full speed.
It was a pleasant ride through Termina Field. Jolku passed Clock Town to the North, passing the wonderful mountains and enjoying the sound of Thundra’s hooves pressing into the snow. Around them, the great Dodongos thundered past, ignoring anything that didn’t pose a threat to them. Jolku marvelled at such spectacular creatures. When they had passed, he steered Thundra up the slope and towards the road to Ikana Canyon. When he had first entered this land, real bombchus roamed this path through the Canyon. He had heard tales of a young boy, defeating an evil imp, and ridding the world of evil creatures, such as the bombchus. He rode at full speed toward the fences in order for Thundra to gain enough speed to clear them. She did so with great ease, and he slowed her to a standstill, riding behind the cover of a rock column. Several guards, including a now sober Captain Viscen, were staring in bewilderment at the cliff face between them and the village of Ikana Canyon. Jolku rummaged around in his sack for something and placed the object in his pocket. He tied the sack to Thundra’s saddle.
“Take this, and hide,” he said. He read the look in her eyes, and comforted her.
“I’ll be fine. You just hide somewhere safe and I’ll pick you up when I have finished. Then we will go home. To Hyrule…” His voice trailed off. Hyrule. He had missed the beautiful land, but soon, very soon, he would return there, after two years of following Sakon away from it.
He snapped out of it.
“Hide in the Goron shrine in the Mountainside village. I’ll be back soon.”
She nodded and galloped away. He waited until he couldn’t hear her, and then returned his attention to the guards.
He sneaked up quietly behind them. They were all gathered into a circle, gaping up at the lonely tree atop the cliff. Jolku removed two items from his pocket; the hookshot in his left hand, and the Deku Nut form his sack in his right hand. He threw the Nut onto the floor in the centre of the guards’ circle. They all froze, victims to the Nut’s mysterious powder. At the same instant, Jolku aimed the hookshot at the lonely tree and fired. The arrowhead sped through he air once more, embedding itself in the trunk and pulling him into the air. He landed softly on the top of the cliff and ran forward. Behind him he heard a dazed guard ask, “What just happened?”
It took him quite a while to reach the river. He had run all of the way, yet the gorge was surprisingly long. By the river was a wooden platform. He walked to the water’s edge, cupped his hands and drank the clear water that he scooped out. Termina water tasted very unique but wasn’t a patch on the taste of Hyrule’s. His strength regained he pressed on along the river’s edge. He noticed with mild interest that the sun was now setting. In the shadow of the towering cliffs he sneaked stealthily along the path. Presently he reached the end. What may have been a cave entrance was on his right and was blocked by an immense boulder. He pushed on it for several seconds but didn’t mane to move it. He sat down, with his back against it, exhausted once more. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a lone stick wedged in the ground. He stood up and looked at it carefully. There was a crack in the ground, allowing it to move back and forth. He moved it like a lever and stood there for a moment. Nothing happened. Jolku was just deciding that he hadn’t known what he had expected to happen when the boulder began to move. It grinded back into the cave, leaving enough space for a human to enter. Jolku drew his sword and ran inside.
He ran into a room, with a few crates stacked to one side. The boulder behind him began moving again. It closed the entrance behind him, trapping him in the cavern. Jolku walked boldly towards the door ahead and entered Sakon’s hideout.
Sakon used to have some ingenious puzzles installed, involving switches that had to be held down on two sides of an impenetrable conveyer belt, meaning that any infiltrators would have to have a friend with them. This had served for many years, until recently, when two young boys had broken through and stolen the Sun’s Mask from him, the greatest prize he had ever taken. He had had his friend Kotake change the room, giving her an excuse to use Black Magic and leaving him with an arena in which he could fight any enemies that waked in. He had even signed up to a month’s worth of training with the swordsmaster of Clock Town, but this had been stopped when he used his skills to kill a guard and the swordsmaster wanted nothing to do with him.
‘Still’, he thought, as Jolku walked in, ‘that training would suffice for this battle.’
He sat on his throne at the far end of the room, opposite the door. It was a magnificent throne, stolen from the remains of Ikana Castle when he had heard that the spirit of Igor de Ikana, and his “unthinkable” warriors had disappeared. He stood up, facing Jolku.
“You don’t give up, do you kid.”
“I’m tougher than I look,” Jolku replied.
Sakon grinned wickedly.
“We’ll just see about that.” He leapt into the air, pulling one of his swords from its sheath, attached to the ceiling. He landed on one side of the painted battle circle on the floor, sword in hand and pointed at Jolku. Jolku ran forward. As he neared Sakon, he lunged with is sword, but the thief had see this coming and somersaulted over his attacker. Jolku slid to a stop and wheeled around, quick enough to see Sakon’s sword bearing down upon him. He leapt to the side, and swung his sword at his enemy. Sakon dodged this, but only slightly, as a gash appeared in his tunic. He stared at this in disbelief, and then turned to Jolku, flames of anger burning in his eyes. He emitted an ear-piercing war cry and leapt into the air for a jump attack. Jolku back-flipped away and swung his sword once more. This time, he managed to cut Sakon’s arm, leading to the thief yelling in pain. Swapping his sword to his uninjured arm, Sakon wielded it frantically through the air, missing Jolku, who kept leaping and back-flipping to avoid his enemy’s sword. As Sakon ran for a final lunge, Jolku leapt, somersaulting over Sakon, as he neared the ground he span in the air, swinging his sword with all the strength he could muster. The lethal blade cut through Sakon’s back and piercing his heart. As he landed, he sheathed his sword in one swift movement.
He stood up to his full height a power surging through him. The hood lifted into the air, freeing Link from the mind of Jolku. The hood floated forward and hovered in mid-air. Link watched in amazement as a semi-transparent body extended through the neck hole in the hood. Link saw Jolku’s spirit look at him, as if puzzled. He wore a black tunic and black shorts. His crudely made hood covered his face. The spirit looked at the body of the former master thief and turned to Link.
“Thank you,” it said, and faded away. Link waited until Jolku’s soul had disappeared completely then walked slowly towards the door, preparing for the journey back to Clock Town.
Tell me what you think: [email protected]
long? i thought it was meant to be a short story?
slik ?_? @_@
slik ?_? @_@
Yes, this is a nice story. BUt in the forums... we consider this to be long.
zzzzz.....oh what? oh yeah it was good up to the point where...what happened? only joking, it's a good twist to the actual storyline.
slik !_!
slik !_!
yawn oh sorry drifted off into a slumber after the second paragraph but umm what i read seemed good,
The Legend of Zelda: Masks of Destiny
Masks disguise what is within them. Their characters infect the wearer, but usually only psychologically. Not in Termina. In Termina, evil is banished into masks. Wandering spirits are trapped in masks. And the wearers have no idea until the incarcerated soul has them. By then, it is too late, for they are possessed. The only way to escape their curse is to continue the spirit’s unfinished business, until it is satisfied and at peace. And only the strong-minded and courageous can survive this ordeal until the end of the curse. Yet few are strong-minded, or courageous, and the masks are loose in Termina, considered harmless by the oblivious citizens. The mask seller of the neighbouring kingdom, Hyrule, has employed the services of a young boy, who is as both strong-minded and courageous as the legendary Hero of Time, for one simple reason. He is the Hero of Time. Read on as Link continues his journey through destiny by freeing each spirit of Termina.
Episode One: The Master Thief
Link slips his face cautiously into the mask, and the spirit is released. It surges through the hood and into Link, taking over control of his brain and possessing his soul…
It was midnight in Clock Town. The town slept silently, the only sounds being the revolving Clock Tower and the very distant mooing of the chateau Romani cows. One of the only places showing signs of life in the town was the patient Curiosity Shop owner, awaiting customers, his regular seller, Sakon the Thief, or his faithful bird, Takkuri. So far it had been a quiet night. The other place was the milk bar, Latte, the only place in Termina where you could drink forbidden milk. The bar was full of the usual people; the last of the Indigo-Go’s, the world famous Zora Band, packing up from yet another successful concert and the usual depressed people, drowning their sorrows (the head of the semi-famous Gorman Troupe, Gorman, and the Captain of the Guards, Captain Viscen). However, there was one irregular visitor, sitting at the very far end of the bar, next to the stairs. He was the most unwelcome there, so he sat in the shadows, debating what to do next.
He was a young boy, wearing a green tunic and equally green shorts. His small cowhide boots were dusty from several long journeys and a beautiful sheath and shield were upon his back. His face though, was covered by a hood, crudely made and associated with evil men. Thieves. This young boy was one of these. At least a part of him was.
Link had felt knowledge of a history gush through him as he had put the mask on. This was the hood of one of the most notorious thieves to roam Termina. The only clue he had to calming the thief’s soul was a burning desire to find his rival.
He called over to the bartender, in a deep, rough voice. It was the type of voice owned by gangsters, the type of voice that meant business.
“Hey!”
The bartender walked over, calmly.
“Yes sir?” he asked.
“Has he been here?” the young boy asked, “Have you seen him?”
The bartender trembled. He had realised who this boy was. The great thief, Jolku. The most feared thief Termina. No, second most feared thief. The infamous Sakon was the most feared throughout the land. He stole in the dead of the night and sold all goods at the Curiosity shop. The victims of his theft never knew what he had taken until the morning, by which time the Curiosity Shop owner had set an extortionate price for it. Nobody knew why this system was in place, or why the guard didn’t do anything about it, but it was and they didn’t.
Jolku had been presumed dead two weeks ago, so how could it be possible for him to be here? The bartender dismissed this thought. You don’t argue with Jolku, whether he was dead or not.
“N-no sir? No one has seen him. You could ask Capt…” His voice trailed off.
“Are you mad?” the cold voice spat at him, “I can’t ask Viscen. He knows who I am. I’m just lucky he hasn’t seen me yet.” The thief grabbed the bartender by the scruff of the neck.
“You go and ask him,” he ordered, “Without drawing any attention to me, understand?”
The bartender nodded, and walked away. The thief watched him as he had a seemingly innocent conversation with Captain Viscen.
“Good Evening, Captain. What will you have?”
“The shame, “ the already drunken guard replied.
“How’s business?” the bartender asked, innocently.
“Ffffine. We think that we haf fffound the hideout of a Feef.”
“You mean the notorious Sakon?”
“Yeah, tha’sh him!”
Cool relief swept over the bartender.
“So where is it?”
“I can’t tell you, but I’ll giff you a clue. Ish in a cave by the riffer Ikana. Now where’sh my milk???”
“Just coming, sir,” and with that the bartender returned to the thief in the corner.
“Did you find out??”
“Yes sir,” the bartender replied, “the cave in Ikana Canyon. Though the guards may be searching the place, as they only found it recently.”
“Good,” the thief said and made to leave.
The trembling bartender paused before asking, “Aren’t you goin’ to pay for this?”, holding up the milk glass.
The thief wheeled around. Though, his eyes were covered in the shadow of his hood, the bartender could tell he was glaring at him with fury.
“What do you think?” the thief growled, and walked away.
As the bartender heard the door slam, he wished he had never even asked. Cool relief washed over him, thanking the goddesses that the thief had gone, and he returned to providing the Captain with his milk.
Link, or Jolku as he now was, removed something from his pocket as he stood under he flickering light of East Clock Town’s torch. It was his trustworthy weapon and tool, one of only two in Termina. This weapon had got him out of several scrapes, half of them with Sakon, and defeated several shocked guards. This tool had given him access to other people’s well-hidden fortunes. His hookshot. It had a shining metal arrowhead, connected by a steel chain to the golden trigger section.
He aimed it at the belfry atop the Stock Pot in and activated it. The metal head glinted in the light of the flame, as it sped through the air, the steel chain trailing behind it. With a satisfying, wooden thud, it embedded itself in the belfry. The section that Link held began to retract the chain, pulling him into the air. He landed softly on the balcony of the inn and put his trusty device away. He waked to the door and opened it. This was a much simpler method of entry than picking the locked door below. He sneaked swiftly yet silently to the knife chamber, his hired room and opened the door. He scurried around the room, picking up his belongings and placing them carefully in a sack. Purses, a blanket, his remaining food, a change of clothes, his bow and arrow; everything he owned was put in his sack. He then lay on the bed, in order to gain a few hours sleep before his journey.
Link dreamed a dream that wasn’t his. It was terrifyingly clear, as though it was really happening. As Link watched the events unfurl, he realised that this wasn’t a dream, but memories of Jolku.
The horse was now tired. So was he. His steed trotted slowly through the woods, his homeland behind him, and his target before him. Somewhere. Despite it being near to noon, the forest was surprisingly dingy and dark, with only a few rays of sun filtering the roof of leaves.
Due to weariness, the sack on his bag seemed to be heavier than usual. He strained to lift his head, but he managed it. Ahead of him was a large tunnel cut into an immense tree. A horse was tied to a nearby tree. He recognised it as his rival’s. Strength surged through him from the knowledge that his target was somewhere nearby. He stared into the murky abyss of the tunnel and felt for certain that he was in there.
The world faded away to reveal memories from even further back in time.
The market place in Castle Town, Hyrule, materialised. He looked around. Standing nonchalantly, in the shadow of a market stall, he could see his target. He walked slowly toward him. The man looked up. He was bald, wearing a white tunic and blue trousers.
“What can I do for you?” Sakon, for it was he, asked in a hoarse voice.
“You have done something for me already,” he replied
A smile of false charm, then, “And what would that be?”
“You killed my family”
There was a pause, before the reply.
“Are you thanking me?”
“No,” he replied, smiling with equal false charm, “I am getting my revenge.”
His hand reached for his sword and he drew it with lightning speed. Sakon had seen this coming and had leapt backward. Performing a backward somersault and landing halfway up a stack of boxes. He ran forward as Sakon performed another backward somersault and disappeared. He climbed the stack frantically, only to be faced with an empty alleyway when he looked over the top. The world dematerialised again, and the scene in the forest returned. He ran forward and into the tunnel. On the other side were several tree stumps, from which he jumped to yet another tunnel.
Inside, it was like a cave. He stood still and listened. Cautious footsteps echoed through the cave. He ran forward once more… and fell down a seemingly, bottomless chasm…
Link now recognised it as the gateway to Termina, through which he himself had travelled when chasing the Skull Kid.
He awoke to the sound of the morning bells. He cursed, having wasted valuable time. In the light of day he would have to move quickly, else the guards would see him, recognise him, and arrest him. If this happened, he would never be able to have his revenge. He leapt out of bed. Grabbing the room key on the table and the sack by the door, he left the room. He locked the room using the key, and left it in the lock. He then ran to the door he had used last night and departed from the inn.
Outside, the town was bustling with tourists going in the attractions such as the shooting gallery, and the treasure chest shop. He walked along the balcony, onto the thatched porch and dropped down onto the cobbled street. He ran quickly the main marketplace, South Clock Town.
The festival had recently ended, so once more the carpenters were at work, taking down the moon viewing tower, and the bridge joining it to the clock tower. Except that they hadn’t started yet. The head of the carpenters had them gathered around him, and he was giving yet another “Hard Work” lecture. Jolku climbed up to the locked Clock Tower door and ran along the bridge. This, as he had expected had caught the eye of the guard at the gate. He knew this had been inevitable but if he ran, he would be able gain enough speed to escape the guards.
“Friends, to me!!” The guard yelled, “Jolku is here!!”
Several guards appeared as if from nowhere, each carrying a spear. Captain Viscen, with what seemed to be a ferocious hangover was leading them.
“Ready, Aim,” he ordered, clutching his aching head, “FIRE!”
Every guard in the area began throwing their spear. Jolku ran on, spears narrowly missing him, both in front and behind, as well to his left and his right. He removed the hookshot once more. Aiming while running was difficult, but he had achieved it before. He aimed for the roof of the Southern gate and activated the hookshot. The arrowhead sped along once more, while Jolku had to stand still, in order to avoid distorting the shot. Out of the corner of his eye, Captain Viscen, the only guard with his spear left, was aiming at Jolku, atop the moon-viewing tower. The guards were trained, Jolku knew, to hit a stationary target, even when drunk. The spear left Viscen’s hand and flew through the air towards him. It was going to be a direct hit. Just as the spear was within an inch of his arm, he was suddenly pulled into the air by the hookshot. He soared over the bewildered guards and was pulled into the shelter of the gate’s thatched roof. He heard the voice of Viscen order the others to “Leave him. We have bigger fish to fry!”
It took a lot of rustling and forcing his way through, but Jolku finally managed to crawl through the thatched roof into the fresh air of Termina Field. He leapt down from the wall, landing softly on the grass. Checking to see that no one was around, he let out a high-pitched whistle. There was the sound of a horse galloping, and moments later, his trusty steed emerged from Milk Road.
Her name was Thundra, on account of her loud, yet majestic gallop. She was a fully-grown horse now, with shining black fur, and an elegant grey mane. Jolku had raised her from a foal, and she was one hundred percent loyal to him. He climbed swiftly and expertly onto her back and rode forward. They headed west and a gentle gallop. Presently, they came to the fence blocking access to Great Bay. Jolku made her gallop at full speed and they sped towards the fence. The wind flowing through his hair, the gentle graceful swaying of her mane, and the reassuring pounding of her feet on the sand was a familiar and magnificent experience. As she leapt over the wall, Jolku closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the wind. He opened his eyes and looked ahead. Over the top of the gorge through which they travelled, Jolku could see the shimmering sea and the murky grey rain clouds heading towards them. Jolku slowed Thundra to a trot and they slowly, and calmly, rode through the gorge towards the beach.
Thunder crashed as the rain beat down on the weary thief and his horse. They trotted slowly into the main area of Great Bay. Normally bustling with tourists, this popular holiday resort remained deserted due to the excessive rain. Jolku watched gloomily as fork lightning licked at the distant horizon. He rode into the area with the only two buildings; the fisherman’s shop and the abandoned house. He rode up to the house, dismounted and led Thundra inside, not having the heart to leave her outside. He lay his sack on the dusty floor and removed his blanket and candles. He lit one candle and lay out his blanket. He lay his wet clothes on the floor, near to the heat of the candle, and changed into his only spare ones.
“Thundra,” he told his horse, knowing that she understood him. They had been through a lot together since… since the incident with Sakon, back in Hyrule.
“I’m going to get a few hours sleep before… before tonight. You have some rest too, but keep an eye out for anyone.”
The horse nodded solemnly. Throughout their life, no matter where they had hidden, this had always been the system. Thanks to a gentle nudge from Thundra, Jolku had avoided capture several time.
He lay on the blanket and settled down to sleep.
Once more, Link dreamed a dream that wasn’t his. Yet more memories of Jolku’s experience soared through Link’s mind.
Thundra, the young foal, nuzzled him gently. He opened his eyes, only to become face to face with his faithful horse.
“What is it, girl?” he asked, quietly.
She grunted and walked out of the room. Hylians often wondered why the horse was allowed into the refurbished Lakeside Laboratory, now lived in by a respectable family, but had never questioned it. Jolku rose from his bed, sneaking quietly towards the door, without awakening his family. His mother, father and younger sister remained asleep. He opened the door quietly and slipped out to join Thundra.
Thundra stood looking out to the lone island in Lake Hylia. In the darkness of the night, Jolku couldn’t see what she was looking at. Then he saw it. A human silhouette, creeping towards the house, towards the unstable wooden bridges. The human was carrying a sword. Jolku ran inside and grabbed his belt, with his sheathed sword. He put the belt on, the belt going from his right shoulder to his left hip, and the sword behind him. He ran outside and climbed onto Thundra. They galloped toward the lone island between the two bridges. And stopped there, awaiting the figure. It presently stopped before them.
“Halt!” Jolku barked, “Who goes there?”
“Get out of my way, liddle kid,” was the reply.
Jolku drew his sword. It was not unlike the legendary Kokiri sword. He dropped down from Thundra’s back.
“I said,” he repeated, more firmly this time, “Who goes there?”
“You want a piece of me?” the figure asked, “That’s funny, kid, real funny.”
The two circled around a couple of times, swords ready. The figure stopped when he was on the island and Jolku was on the bridge.
“Why do you take a quick dip?” it asked, sarcastically.
Jolku saw the rapid movement of the figure’s sword, and watched in horror as the rope holding the bridge up snapped. The bridge fell towards the dark water, and Jolku plunged into the lake’s murky depths. Striking out with his feet, he swam towards the centre island. It took him a long time, during which he stopped once or twice to see where the figure was. When he finally reached the island, he looked towards his house. He then witnessed the worst event in his life. He watched the figure enter his house. He heard the screams of his startled, then dying family. He watched it come out with a large sack, and a flaming torch. And he watched, terrified, as it set the house alight. Jolku dived into the water and swam frantically towards the house. By the time he was halfway across, the moon sank, and the sky turned a pleasant pink colour. The figure still stood there, admiring his work and gloating at his triumph. It was Sakon, the feared thief of Hyrule. Jolku swam quicker, but by the time he crawled, exasperated and exhausted, onto the beach by the Zora ruins, Sakon had stolen his father’s horse and galloped off.
Thundra trotted up beside him and grunted soothingly. Jolku waked to his the charred remain of his house. Everything had been burnt to a crisp, including the bodies of his sister and his parents. He considered salvaging things before his journey of revenge, but there was nothing to salvage.
He climbed onto Thundra once more, gave a remorseful last look at his home and rode off.
The world disappeared once more, and was replaced by the beaver’s home in Zora Cape. Jolku crept cautiously towards the entrance, sword drawn. He had followed Sakon for four years, during which he had turned to and mastered a life of crime in order to sustain himself and Thundra, who now hid in a cave below him. For the previous six months, he had stayed in Termina. Somewhere in this land was Sakon’s true hideout. Not like his hyrulian one, (a small cave near Death Mountain), but his actual home. Jolku himself had managed to secure a hideout where the beavers had once lived, (he had found it mysteriously empty) and was sure that Sakon didn’t know where it was, for only Jolku could access the hideout thanks to his hookshot. Yet now, he heard someone outside. No down below on the beach, but on the thin ledge outside the entrance.
He crept outside and came face to face with Sakon. He leapt back and employed a defensive position, both his sword and shield drawn.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I know you’ve been following me, kid. For four years, ever since we met that night.”
“You killed my family! I will have my revenge. How did you get up here?”
“I got a lift from a friend.”
At that moment, there was a terrific flash of light in the air next to Sakon, and an old lady appeared. She seemed to be very old, and was hovering on a broomstick in mid-air.
“Is this the one giving you problems, Sakon?” the old hag asked.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
The witch pointed at Jolku, sparks flying form her finger.
“Well,” she said, cackling, “We’ll have to… dispose of him.”
The sparks grew into a ball of lightning and sped through the air towards Jolku. As it hit him, there was another blinding flash of light. When it cleared, Jolku was not there. Only his hood floated in mid-air.
“Thank you, Kotake,” Sakon said to the witch.
Kotake cackled and replied, “So long as you don’t tell Koume. She hates Black Magic, but I think it provides the most entertainment.” She let out another, louder cackle and disappeared in an explosion of light.
Sakon grabbed the hood and looked into it.
“May your soul be forever tortured, kid.”
And with that he threw it into the air, watching it being carried inland by the wind.
Link’s mind mulled over these memories, now feeling sympathetic to the young criminal. He now understood why he had turned to crime, and how he had been trapped in this mask. He also understood what to do in order to fulfil Jolku’s destiny.
He awoke slowly, feeling properly rested. Thundra lay half asleep by the door. It was now sunny, and Jolku relaxed for a moment in the sunlight. He then urged Thundra to wake up, as he collected his belongings. He slung the sack over his back, and climbed onto Thundra. The horse trotted out to the gorge and then proceeded to gallop at full speed.
It was a pleasant ride through Termina Field. Jolku passed Clock Town to the North, passing the wonderful mountains and enjoying the sound of Thundra’s hooves pressing into the snow. Around them, the great Dodongos thundered past, ignoring anything that didn’t pose a threat to them. Jolku marvelled at such spectacular creatures. When they had passed, he steered Thundra up the slope and towards the road to Ikana Canyon. When he had first entered this land, real bombchus roamed this path through the Canyon. He had heard tales of a young boy, defeating an evil imp, and ridding the world of evil creatures, such as the bombchus. He rode at full speed toward the fences in order for Thundra to gain enough speed to clear them. She did so with great ease, and he slowed her to a standstill, riding behind the cover of a rock column. Several guards, including a now sober Captain Viscen, were staring in bewilderment at the cliff face between them and the village of Ikana Canyon. Jolku rummaged around in his sack for something and placed the object in his pocket. He tied the sack to Thundra’s saddle.
“Take this, and hide,” he said. He read the look in her eyes, and comforted her.
“I’ll be fine. You just hide somewhere safe and I’ll pick you up when I have finished. Then we will go home. To Hyrule…” His voice trailed off. Hyrule. He had missed the beautiful land, but soon, very soon, he would return there, after two years of following Sakon away from it.
He snapped out of it.
“Hide in the Goron shrine in the Mountainside village. I’ll be back soon.”
She nodded and galloped away. He waited until he couldn’t hear her, and then returned his attention to the guards.
He sneaked up quietly behind them. They were all gathered into a circle, gaping up at the lonely tree atop the cliff. Jolku removed two items from his pocket; the hookshot in his left hand, and the Deku Nut form his sack in his right hand. He threw the Nut onto the floor in the centre of the guards’ circle. They all froze, victims to the Nut’s mysterious powder. At the same instant, Jolku aimed the hookshot at the lonely tree and fired. The arrowhead sped through he air once more, embedding itself in the trunk and pulling him into the air. He landed softly on the top of the cliff and ran forward. Behind him he heard a dazed guard ask, “What just happened?”
It took him quite a while to reach the river. He had run all of the way, yet the gorge was surprisingly long. By the river was a wooden platform. He walked to the water’s edge, cupped his hands and drank the clear water that he scooped out. Termina water tasted very unique but wasn’t a patch on the taste of Hyrule’s. His strength regained he pressed on along the river’s edge. He noticed with mild interest that the sun was now setting. In the shadow of the towering cliffs he sneaked stealthily along the path. Presently he reached the end. What may have been a cave entrance was on his right and was blocked by an immense boulder. He pushed on it for several seconds but didn’t mane to move it. He sat down, with his back against it, exhausted once more. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a lone stick wedged in the ground. He stood up and looked at it carefully. There was a crack in the ground, allowing it to move back and forth. He moved it like a lever and stood there for a moment. Nothing happened. Jolku was just deciding that he hadn’t known what he had expected to happen when the boulder began to move. It grinded back into the cave, leaving enough space for a human to enter. Jolku drew his sword and ran inside.
He ran into a room, with a few crates stacked to one side. The boulder behind him began moving again. It closed the entrance behind him, trapping him in the cavern. Jolku walked boldly towards the door ahead and entered Sakon’s hideout.
Sakon used to have some ingenious puzzles installed, involving switches that had to be held down on two sides of an impenetrable conveyer belt, meaning that any infiltrators would have to have a friend with them. This had served for many years, until recently, when two young boys had broken through and stolen the Sun’s Mask from him, the greatest prize he had ever taken. He had had his friend Kotake change the room, giving her an excuse to use Black Magic and leaving him with an arena in which he could fight any enemies that waked in. He had even signed up to a month’s worth of training with the swordsmaster of Clock Town, but this had been stopped when he used his skills to kill a guard and the swordsmaster wanted nothing to do with him.
‘Still’, he thought, as Jolku walked in, ‘that training would suffice for this battle.’
He sat on his throne at the far end of the room, opposite the door. It was a magnificent throne, stolen from the remains of Ikana Castle when he had heard that the spirit of Igor de Ikana, and his “unthinkable” warriors had disappeared. He stood up, facing Jolku.
“You don’t give up, do you kid.”
“I’m tougher than I look,” Jolku replied.
Sakon grinned wickedly.
“We’ll just see about that.” He leapt into the air, pulling one of his swords from its sheath, attached to the ceiling. He landed on one side of the painted battle circle on the floor, sword in hand and pointed at Jolku. Jolku ran forward. As he neared Sakon, he lunged with is sword, but the thief had see this coming and somersaulted over his attacker. Jolku slid to a stop and wheeled around, quick enough to see Sakon’s sword bearing down upon him. He leapt to the side, and swung his sword at his enemy. Sakon dodged this, but only slightly, as a gash appeared in his tunic. He stared at this in disbelief, and then turned to Jolku, flames of anger burning in his eyes. He emitted an ear-piercing war cry and leapt into the air for a jump attack. Jolku back-flipped away and swung his sword once more. This time, he managed to cut Sakon’s arm, leading to the thief yelling in pain. Swapping his sword to his uninjured arm, Sakon wielded it frantically through the air, missing Jolku, who kept leaping and back-flipping to avoid his enemy’s sword. As Sakon ran for a final lunge, Jolku leapt, somersaulting over Sakon, as he neared the ground he span in the air, swinging his sword with all the strength he could muster. The lethal blade cut through Sakon’s back and piercing his heart. As he landed, he sheathed his sword in one swift movement.
He stood up to his full height a power surging through him. The hood lifted into the air, freeing Link from the mind of Jolku. The hood floated forward and hovered in mid-air. Link watched in amazement as a semi-transparent body extended through the neck hole in the hood. Link saw Jolku’s spirit look at him, as if puzzled. He wore a black tunic and black shorts. His crudely made hood covered his face. The spirit looked at the body of the former master thief and turned to Link.
“Thank you,” it said, and faded away. Link waited until Jolku’s soul had disappeared completely then walked slowly towards the door, preparing for the journey back to Clock Town.
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Masks disguise what is within them. Their characters infect the wearer, but usually only psychologically. Not in Termina. In Termina, evil is banished into masks. Wandering spirits are trapped in masks. And the wearers have no idea until the incarcerated soul has them. By then, it is too late, for they are possessed. The only way to escape their curse is to continue the spirit’s unfinished business, until it is satisfied and at peace. And only the strong-minded and courageous can survive this ordeal until the end of the curse. Yet few are strong-minded, or courageous, and the masks are loose in Termina, considered harmless by the oblivious citizens. The mask seller of the neighbouring kingdom, Hyrule, has employed the services of a young boy, who is as both strong-minded and courageous as the legendary Hero of Time, for one simple reason. He is the Hero of Time. Read on as Link continues his journey through destiny by freeing each spirit of Termina.
Episode One: The Master Thief
Link slips his face cautiously into the mask, and the spirit is released. It surges through the hood and into Link, taking over control of his brain and possessing his soul…
It was midnight in Clock Town. The town slept silently, the only sounds being the revolving Clock Tower and the very distant mooing of the chateau Romani cows. One of the only places showing signs of life in the town was the patient Curiosity Shop owner, awaiting customers, his regular seller, Sakon the Thief, or his faithful bird, Takkuri. So far it had been a quiet night. The other place was the milk bar, Latte, the only place in Termina where you could drink forbidden milk. The bar was full of the usual people; the last of the Indigo-Go’s, the world famous Zora Band, packing up from yet another successful concert and the usual depressed people, drowning their sorrows (the head of the semi-famous Gorman Troupe, Gorman, and the Captain of the Guards, Captain Viscen). However, there was one irregular visitor, sitting at the very far end of the bar, next to the stairs. He was the most unwelcome there, so he sat in the shadows, debating what to do next.
He was a young boy, wearing a green tunic and equally green shorts. His small cowhide boots were dusty from several long journeys and a beautiful sheath and shield were upon his back. His face though, was covered by a hood, crudely made and associated with evil men. Thieves. This young boy was one of these. At least a part of him was.
Link had felt knowledge of a history gush through him as he had put the mask on. This was the hood of one of the most notorious thieves to roam Termina. The only clue he had to calming the thief’s soul was a burning desire to find his rival.
He called over to the bartender, in a deep, rough voice. It was the type of voice owned by gangsters, the type of voice that meant business.
“Hey!”
The bartender walked over, calmly.
“Yes sir?” he asked.
“Has he been here?” the young boy asked, “Have you seen him?”
The bartender trembled. He had realised who this boy was. The great thief, Jolku. The most feared thief Termina. No, second most feared thief. The infamous Sakon was the most feared throughout the land. He stole in the dead of the night and sold all goods at the Curiosity shop. The victims of his theft never knew what he had taken until the morning, by which time the Curiosity Shop owner had set an extortionate price for it. Nobody knew why this system was in place, or why the guard didn’t do anything about it, but it was and they didn’t.
Jolku had been presumed dead two weeks ago, so how could it be possible for him to be here? The bartender dismissed this thought. You don’t argue with Jolku, whether he was dead or not.
“N-no sir? No one has seen him. You could ask Capt…” His voice trailed off.
“Are you mad?” the cold voice spat at him, “I can’t ask Viscen. He knows who I am. I’m just lucky he hasn’t seen me yet.” The thief grabbed the bartender by the scruff of the neck.
“You go and ask him,” he ordered, “Without drawing any attention to me, understand?”
The bartender nodded, and walked away. The thief watched him as he had a seemingly innocent conversation with Captain Viscen.
“Good Evening, Captain. What will you have?”
“The shame, “ the already drunken guard replied.
“How’s business?” the bartender asked, innocently.
“Ffffine. We think that we haf fffound the hideout of a Feef.”
“You mean the notorious Sakon?”
“Yeah, tha’sh him!”
Cool relief swept over the bartender.
“So where is it?”
“I can’t tell you, but I’ll giff you a clue. Ish in a cave by the riffer Ikana. Now where’sh my milk???”
“Just coming, sir,” and with that the bartender returned to the thief in the corner.
“Did you find out??”
“Yes sir,” the bartender replied, “the cave in Ikana Canyon. Though the guards may be searching the place, as they only found it recently.”
“Good,” the thief said and made to leave.
The trembling bartender paused before asking, “Aren’t you goin’ to pay for this?”, holding up the milk glass.
The thief wheeled around. Though, his eyes were covered in the shadow of his hood, the bartender could tell he was glaring at him with fury.
“What do you think?” the thief growled, and walked away.
As the bartender heard the door slam, he wished he had never even asked. Cool relief washed over him, thanking the goddesses that the thief had gone, and he returned to providing the Captain with his milk.
Link, or Jolku as he now was, removed something from his pocket as he stood under he flickering light of East Clock Town’s torch. It was his trustworthy weapon and tool, one of only two in Termina. This weapon had got him out of several scrapes, half of them with Sakon, and defeated several shocked guards. This tool had given him access to other people’s well-hidden fortunes. His hookshot. It had a shining metal arrowhead, connected by a steel chain to the golden trigger section.
He aimed it at the belfry atop the Stock Pot in and activated it. The metal head glinted in the light of the flame, as it sped through the air, the steel chain trailing behind it. With a satisfying, wooden thud, it embedded itself in the belfry. The section that Link held began to retract the chain, pulling him into the air. He landed softly on the balcony of the inn and put his trusty device away. He waked to the door and opened it. This was a much simpler method of entry than picking the locked door below. He sneaked swiftly yet silently to the knife chamber, his hired room and opened the door. He scurried around the room, picking up his belongings and placing them carefully in a sack. Purses, a blanket, his remaining food, a change of clothes, his bow and arrow; everything he owned was put in his sack. He then lay on the bed, in order to gain a few hours sleep before his journey.
Link dreamed a dream that wasn’t his. It was terrifyingly clear, as though it was really happening. As Link watched the events unfurl, he realised that this wasn’t a dream, but memories of Jolku.
The horse was now tired. So was he. His steed trotted slowly through the woods, his homeland behind him, and his target before him. Somewhere. Despite it being near to noon, the forest was surprisingly dingy and dark, with only a few rays of sun filtering the roof of leaves.
Due to weariness, the sack on his bag seemed to be heavier than usual. He strained to lift his head, but he managed it. Ahead of him was a large tunnel cut into an immense tree. A horse was tied to a nearby tree. He recognised it as his rival’s. Strength surged through him from the knowledge that his target was somewhere nearby. He stared into the murky abyss of the tunnel and felt for certain that he was in there.
The world faded away to reveal memories from even further back in time.
The market place in Castle Town, Hyrule, materialised. He looked around. Standing nonchalantly, in the shadow of a market stall, he could see his target. He walked slowly toward him. The man looked up. He was bald, wearing a white tunic and blue trousers.
“What can I do for you?” Sakon, for it was he, asked in a hoarse voice.
“You have done something for me already,” he replied
A smile of false charm, then, “And what would that be?”
“You killed my family”
There was a pause, before the reply.
“Are you thanking me?”
“No,” he replied, smiling with equal false charm, “I am getting my revenge.”
His hand reached for his sword and he drew it with lightning speed. Sakon had seen this coming and had leapt backward. Performing a backward somersault and landing halfway up a stack of boxes. He ran forward as Sakon performed another backward somersault and disappeared. He climbed the stack frantically, only to be faced with an empty alleyway when he looked over the top. The world dematerialised again, and the scene in the forest returned. He ran forward and into the tunnel. On the other side were several tree stumps, from which he jumped to yet another tunnel.
Inside, it was like a cave. He stood still and listened. Cautious footsteps echoed through the cave. He ran forward once more… and fell down a seemingly, bottomless chasm…
Link now recognised it as the gateway to Termina, through which he himself had travelled when chasing the Skull Kid.
He awoke to the sound of the morning bells. He cursed, having wasted valuable time. In the light of day he would have to move quickly, else the guards would see him, recognise him, and arrest him. If this happened, he would never be able to have his revenge. He leapt out of bed. Grabbing the room key on the table and the sack by the door, he left the room. He locked the room using the key, and left it in the lock. He then ran to the door he had used last night and departed from the inn.
Outside, the town was bustling with tourists going in the attractions such as the shooting gallery, and the treasure chest shop. He walked along the balcony, onto the thatched porch and dropped down onto the cobbled street. He ran quickly the main marketplace, South Clock Town.
The festival had recently ended, so once more the carpenters were at work, taking down the moon viewing tower, and the bridge joining it to the clock tower. Except that they hadn’t started yet. The head of the carpenters had them gathered around him, and he was giving yet another “Hard Work” lecture. Jolku climbed up to the locked Clock Tower door and ran along the bridge. This, as he had expected had caught the eye of the guard at the gate. He knew this had been inevitable but if he ran, he would be able gain enough speed to escape the guards.
“Friends, to me!!” The guard yelled, “Jolku is here!!”
Several guards appeared as if from nowhere, each carrying a spear. Captain Viscen, with what seemed to be a ferocious hangover was leading them.
“Ready, Aim,” he ordered, clutching his aching head, “FIRE!”
Every guard in the area began throwing their spear. Jolku ran on, spears narrowly missing him, both in front and behind, as well to his left and his right. He removed the hookshot once more. Aiming while running was difficult, but he had achieved it before. He aimed for the roof of the Southern gate and activated the hookshot. The arrowhead sped along once more, while Jolku had to stand still, in order to avoid distorting the shot. Out of the corner of his eye, Captain Viscen, the only guard with his spear left, was aiming at Jolku, atop the moon-viewing tower. The guards were trained, Jolku knew, to hit a stationary target, even when drunk. The spear left Viscen’s hand and flew through the air towards him. It was going to be a direct hit. Just as the spear was within an inch of his arm, he was suddenly pulled into the air by the hookshot. He soared over the bewildered guards and was pulled into the shelter of the gate’s thatched roof. He heard the voice of Viscen order the others to “Leave him. We have bigger fish to fry!”
It took a lot of rustling and forcing his way through, but Jolku finally managed to crawl through the thatched roof into the fresh air of Termina Field. He leapt down from the wall, landing softly on the grass. Checking to see that no one was around, he let out a high-pitched whistle. There was the sound of a horse galloping, and moments later, his trusty steed emerged from Milk Road.
Her name was Thundra, on account of her loud, yet majestic gallop. She was a fully-grown horse now, with shining black fur, and an elegant grey mane. Jolku had raised her from a foal, and she was one hundred percent loyal to him. He climbed swiftly and expertly onto her back and rode forward. They headed west and a gentle gallop. Presently, they came to the fence blocking access to Great Bay. Jolku made her gallop at full speed and they sped towards the fence. The wind flowing through his hair, the gentle graceful swaying of her mane, and the reassuring pounding of her feet on the sand was a familiar and magnificent experience. As she leapt over the wall, Jolku closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the wind. He opened his eyes and looked ahead. Over the top of the gorge through which they travelled, Jolku could see the shimmering sea and the murky grey rain clouds heading towards them. Jolku slowed Thundra to a trot and they slowly, and calmly, rode through the gorge towards the beach.
Thunder crashed as the rain beat down on the weary thief and his horse. They trotted slowly into the main area of Great Bay. Normally bustling with tourists, this popular holiday resort remained deserted due to the excessive rain. Jolku watched gloomily as fork lightning licked at the distant horizon. He rode into the area with the only two buildings; the fisherman’s shop and the abandoned house. He rode up to the house, dismounted and led Thundra inside, not having the heart to leave her outside. He lay his sack on the dusty floor and removed his blanket and candles. He lit one candle and lay out his blanket. He lay his wet clothes on the floor, near to the heat of the candle, and changed into his only spare ones.
“Thundra,” he told his horse, knowing that she understood him. They had been through a lot together since… since the incident with Sakon, back in Hyrule.
“I’m going to get a few hours sleep before… before tonight. You have some rest too, but keep an eye out for anyone.”
The horse nodded solemnly. Throughout their life, no matter where they had hidden, this had always been the system. Thanks to a gentle nudge from Thundra, Jolku had avoided capture several time.
He lay on the blanket and settled down to sleep.
Once more, Link dreamed a dream that wasn’t his. Yet more memories of Jolku’s experience soared through Link’s mind.
Thundra, the young foal, nuzzled him gently. He opened his eyes, only to become face to face with his faithful horse.
“What is it, girl?” he asked, quietly.
She grunted and walked out of the room. Hylians often wondered why the horse was allowed into the refurbished Lakeside Laboratory, now lived in by a respectable family, but had never questioned it. Jolku rose from his bed, sneaking quietly towards the door, without awakening his family. His mother, father and younger sister remained asleep. He opened the door quietly and slipped out to join Thundra.
Thundra stood looking out to the lone island in Lake Hylia. In the darkness of the night, Jolku couldn’t see what she was looking at. Then he saw it. A human silhouette, creeping towards the house, towards the unstable wooden bridges. The human was carrying a sword. Jolku ran inside and grabbed his belt, with his sheathed sword. He put the belt on, the belt going from his right shoulder to his left hip, and the sword behind him. He ran outside and climbed onto Thundra. They galloped toward the lone island between the two bridges. And stopped there, awaiting the figure. It presently stopped before them.
“Halt!” Jolku barked, “Who goes there?”
“Get out of my way, liddle kid,” was the reply.
Jolku drew his sword. It was not unlike the legendary Kokiri sword. He dropped down from Thundra’s back.
“I said,” he repeated, more firmly this time, “Who goes there?”
“You want a piece of me?” the figure asked, “That’s funny, kid, real funny.”
The two circled around a couple of times, swords ready. The figure stopped when he was on the island and Jolku was on the bridge.
“Why do you take a quick dip?” it asked, sarcastically.
Jolku saw the rapid movement of the figure’s sword, and watched in horror as the rope holding the bridge up snapped. The bridge fell towards the dark water, and Jolku plunged into the lake’s murky depths. Striking out with his feet, he swam towards the centre island. It took him a long time, during which he stopped once or twice to see where the figure was. When he finally reached the island, he looked towards his house. He then witnessed the worst event in his life. He watched the figure enter his house. He heard the screams of his startled, then dying family. He watched it come out with a large sack, and a flaming torch. And he watched, terrified, as it set the house alight. Jolku dived into the water and swam frantically towards the house. By the time he was halfway across, the moon sank, and the sky turned a pleasant pink colour. The figure still stood there, admiring his work and gloating at his triumph. It was Sakon, the feared thief of Hyrule. Jolku swam quicker, but by the time he crawled, exasperated and exhausted, onto the beach by the Zora ruins, Sakon had stolen his father’s horse and galloped off.
Thundra trotted up beside him and grunted soothingly. Jolku waked to his the charred remain of his house. Everything had been burnt to a crisp, including the bodies of his sister and his parents. He considered salvaging things before his journey of revenge, but there was nothing to salvage.
He climbed onto Thundra once more, gave a remorseful last look at his home and rode off.
The world disappeared once more, and was replaced by the beaver’s home in Zora Cape. Jolku crept cautiously towards the entrance, sword drawn. He had followed Sakon for four years, during which he had turned to and mastered a life of crime in order to sustain himself and Thundra, who now hid in a cave below him. For the previous six months, he had stayed in Termina. Somewhere in this land was Sakon’s true hideout. Not like his hyrulian one, (a small cave near Death Mountain), but his actual home. Jolku himself had managed to secure a hideout where the beavers had once lived, (he had found it mysteriously empty) and was sure that Sakon didn’t know where it was, for only Jolku could access the hideout thanks to his hookshot. Yet now, he heard someone outside. No down below on the beach, but on the thin ledge outside the entrance.
He crept outside and came face to face with Sakon. He leapt back and employed a defensive position, both his sword and shield drawn.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I know you’ve been following me, kid. For four years, ever since we met that night.”
“You killed my family! I will have my revenge. How did you get up here?”
“I got a lift from a friend.”
At that moment, there was a terrific flash of light in the air next to Sakon, and an old lady appeared. She seemed to be very old, and was hovering on a broomstick in mid-air.
“Is this the one giving you problems, Sakon?” the old hag asked.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
The witch pointed at Jolku, sparks flying form her finger.
“Well,” she said, cackling, “We’ll have to… dispose of him.”
The sparks grew into a ball of lightning and sped through the air towards Jolku. As it hit him, there was another blinding flash of light. When it cleared, Jolku was not there. Only his hood floated in mid-air.
“Thank you, Kotake,” Sakon said to the witch.
Kotake cackled and replied, “So long as you don’t tell Koume. She hates Black Magic, but I think it provides the most entertainment.” She let out another, louder cackle and disappeared in an explosion of light.
Sakon grabbed the hood and looked into it.
“May your soul be forever tortured, kid.”
And with that he threw it into the air, watching it being carried inland by the wind.
Link’s mind mulled over these memories, now feeling sympathetic to the young criminal. He now understood why he had turned to crime, and how he had been trapped in this mask. He also understood what to do in order to fulfil Jolku’s destiny.
He awoke slowly, feeling properly rested. Thundra lay half asleep by the door. It was now sunny, and Jolku relaxed for a moment in the sunlight. He then urged Thundra to wake up, as he collected his belongings. He slung the sack over his back, and climbed onto Thundra. The horse trotted out to the gorge and then proceeded to gallop at full speed.
It was a pleasant ride through Termina Field. Jolku passed Clock Town to the North, passing the wonderful mountains and enjoying the sound of Thundra’s hooves pressing into the snow. Around them, the great Dodongos thundered past, ignoring anything that didn’t pose a threat to them. Jolku marvelled at such spectacular creatures. When they had passed, he steered Thundra up the slope and towards the road to Ikana Canyon. When he had first entered this land, real bombchus roamed this path through the Canyon. He had heard tales of a young boy, defeating an evil imp, and ridding the world of evil creatures, such as the bombchus. He rode at full speed toward the fences in order for Thundra to gain enough speed to clear them. She did so with great ease, and he slowed her to a standstill, riding behind the cover of a rock column. Several guards, including a now sober Captain Viscen, were staring in bewilderment at the cliff face between them and the village of Ikana Canyon. Jolku rummaged around in his sack for something and placed the object in his pocket. He tied the sack to Thundra’s saddle.
“Take this, and hide,” he said. He read the look in her eyes, and comforted her.
“I’ll be fine. You just hide somewhere safe and I’ll pick you up when I have finished. Then we will go home. To Hyrule…” His voice trailed off. Hyrule. He had missed the beautiful land, but soon, very soon, he would return there, after two years of following Sakon away from it.
He snapped out of it.
“Hide in the Goron shrine in the Mountainside village. I’ll be back soon.”
She nodded and galloped away. He waited until he couldn’t hear her, and then returned his attention to the guards.
He sneaked up quietly behind them. They were all gathered into a circle, gaping up at the lonely tree atop the cliff. Jolku removed two items from his pocket; the hookshot in his left hand, and the Deku Nut form his sack in his right hand. He threw the Nut onto the floor in the centre of the guards’ circle. They all froze, victims to the Nut’s mysterious powder. At the same instant, Jolku aimed the hookshot at the lonely tree and fired. The arrowhead sped through he air once more, embedding itself in the trunk and pulling him into the air. He landed softly on the top of the cliff and ran forward. Behind him he heard a dazed guard ask, “What just happened?”
It took him quite a while to reach the river. He had run all of the way, yet the gorge was surprisingly long. By the river was a wooden platform. He walked to the water’s edge, cupped his hands and drank the clear water that he scooped out. Termina water tasted very unique but wasn’t a patch on the taste of Hyrule’s. His strength regained he pressed on along the river’s edge. He noticed with mild interest that the sun was now setting. In the shadow of the towering cliffs he sneaked stealthily along the path. Presently he reached the end. What may have been a cave entrance was on his right and was blocked by an immense boulder. He pushed on it for several seconds but didn’t mane to move it. He sat down, with his back against it, exhausted once more. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a lone stick wedged in the ground. He stood up and looked at it carefully. There was a crack in the ground, allowing it to move back and forth. He moved it like a lever and stood there for a moment. Nothing happened. Jolku was just deciding that he hadn’t known what he had expected to happen when the boulder began to move. It grinded back into the cave, leaving enough space for a human to enter. Jolku drew his sword and ran inside.
He ran into a room, with a few crates stacked to one side. The boulder behind him began moving again. It closed the entrance behind him, trapping him in the cavern. Jolku walked boldly towards the door ahead and entered Sakon’s hideout.
Sakon used to have some ingenious puzzles installed, involving switches that had to be held down on two sides of an impenetrable conveyer belt, meaning that any infiltrators would have to have a friend with them. This had served for many years, until recently, when two young boys had broken through and stolen the Sun’s Mask from him, the greatest prize he had ever taken. He had had his friend Kotake change the room, giving her an excuse to use Black Magic and leaving him with an arena in which he could fight any enemies that waked in. He had even signed up to a month’s worth of training with the swordsmaster of Clock Town, but this had been stopped when he used his skills to kill a guard and the swordsmaster wanted nothing to do with him.
‘Still’, he thought, as Jolku walked in, ‘that training would suffice for this battle.’
He sat on his throne at the far end of the room, opposite the door. It was a magnificent throne, stolen from the remains of Ikana Castle when he had heard that the spirit of Igor de Ikana, and his “unthinkable” warriors had disappeared. He stood up, facing Jolku.
“You don’t give up, do you kid.”
“I’m tougher than I look,” Jolku replied.
Sakon grinned wickedly.
“We’ll just see about that.” He leapt into the air, pulling one of his swords from its sheath, attached to the ceiling. He landed on one side of the painted battle circle on the floor, sword in hand and pointed at Jolku. Jolku ran forward. As he neared Sakon, he lunged with is sword, but the thief had see this coming and somersaulted over his attacker. Jolku slid to a stop and wheeled around, quick enough to see Sakon’s sword bearing down upon him. He leapt to the side, and swung his sword at his enemy. Sakon dodged this, but only slightly, as a gash appeared in his tunic. He stared at this in disbelief, and then turned to Jolku, flames of anger burning in his eyes. He emitted an ear-piercing war cry and leapt into the air for a jump attack. Jolku back-flipped away and swung his sword once more. This time, he managed to cut Sakon’s arm, leading to the thief yelling in pain. Swapping his sword to his uninjured arm, Sakon wielded it frantically through the air, missing Jolku, who kept leaping and back-flipping to avoid his enemy’s sword. As Sakon ran for a final lunge, Jolku leapt, somersaulting over Sakon, as he neared the ground he span in the air, swinging his sword with all the strength he could muster. The lethal blade cut through Sakon’s back and piercing his heart. As he landed, he sheathed his sword in one swift movement.
He stood up to his full height a power surging through him. The hood lifted into the air, freeing Link from the mind of Jolku. The hood floated forward and hovered in mid-air. Link watched in amazement as a semi-transparent body extended through the neck hole in the hood. Link saw Jolku’s spirit look at him, as if puzzled. He wore a black tunic and black shorts. His crudely made hood covered his face. The spirit looked at the body of the former master thief and turned to Link.
“Thank you,” it said, and faded away. Link waited until Jolku’s soul had disappeared completely then walked slowly towards the door, preparing for the journey back to Clock Town.
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