by N Felts
resting on her back. A minimalistic green dress clings to her pale skin, falling into a short skirt high above her bare feet. His eyes wide and unbelieving, Link stares into the goddess’s childlike face without words to offer. “Well,” she giggles, averting her eyes before returning them to the Hylian’s dropped jaw. “Say something!” A brief series of indecipherable gasps, is all the hero can produce, the revelation monumental, but suddenly putting a large number of questions in perspective.
“Hey! Are you just going to stand there gawking?” She asks with an amused smile. Her expression suddenly shifting to a sadder demeanor, she looks to the ground before continuing. “When you put the sword back, I had to leave you. I had to let you live your life. Zelda,” she pauses, the name striking a chord with her vengeful side. “She doesn’t deserve you,” she declares, glancing at his eyes to gauge his response. Expecting his expression to grow far more severe, she decides he is far less offended than she had assumed he would be. “When you came looking for me, you set a chain of events into motion,” she starts, quickly changing the subject. “When you traveled to Termina, it changed everything. What you do now will determine the fate of Hyrule forever,” she reveals, her gaze slowly becoming dreamy. “This will be the final battle. You will not fail,” she insists, taking a step closer as she reads his soul like a book. Unfaltering and fearless up until recently, she knows he needs a reassuring voice now more than ever, though he would never admit as much. “I believe in you. I always have, and I always will.” As she drifts in for a kiss, Link stands paralyzed, utterly confused by the grandiose plan of the goddesses, and reeling at the thought of Farore’s intentions. Sensing his trepidation, the goddess summons another rush of wind and light, transforming back into the fairy companion Link has grown accustomed to. “I’m sorry,” she gasps, floating erratically, yet relieved she didn’t go too far. “We shouldn’t keep the kid waiting,” she awkwardly adds, dipping down toward the portal. “Everything will become clearer soon. I promise.” With that she drops through the dimensional window, leaving the hero with his hand outstretched, and failing to voice his protest in time. His head spinning from the endless discoveries, the hero shakes his thoughts free and reestablishes his determination.
Through the portal Link struggles to determine his bearings in the extreme darkness. A horrific sort of nostalgia grips his form when the skull kid shouts for him in the distance. Drifting past his head, Navi lights the way forward, revealing the Hylian’s next obstacle as he is forced to climb and leap his way through the grassy cove. Memories of Majora begin to seep into his mind, the cursed mask wreaking havoc on the peaceful inhabitants of Termina. Utilizing his hookshot to cross one final gap, Link jogs down a warped hallway before emerging into the massive clock from his oldest memories. Rounding the staircase leading upward, he passes massive cogs utilizing a river to power the gears. The surreal environment from his dreams is exactly as her remembers. Moving into earshot, the sound of rushing water and cranking wood is overcome with heightened voices.
“You! You stay away from me!” A thin man wearing a backpack twice his size declares. Struggling to keep a smile beneath his bowl-cut hair, the man garbed in a purple robe keeps his distance from the skull kid.
“We come in peace,” Navi asserts, drifting closer to the man than he would prefer. The light emanating from the fairy further illuminates the man, revealing the dozens of masks attached to his novelty-sized pack. “We’d like to purchase a mask,” she half mumbles, suddenly very interested in the mask salesman, circling him several times.
“Okay, okay, okay,” the pale salesman exclaims, creating some distance between himself and the fairy with no sense of personal space. “Just, you stay there, and I’ll stand here,” he instructs, clearly very nervous about the surging population within the clock as he points zealously.
“You alright?” Navi inquires with a suspicious tone.
“Fine! Just fine,” he grins, adjusting his backpack and clasping his hands together as his voice and demeanor dramatically shifts from uncomfortably anxious to unnervingly calm. “A mask is why you’ve come? Fantastic. I must warn you however, I cannot sell a mask unless it will make the buyer happy.”
“I want a skull mask. A scary one!” The kid proclaims, crossing his arms and glancing at Link.
“A skull?” He patronizes, wiggling his fingers. “Scary indeed.” Reaching behind himself, the salesman produces a mask resembling the skull of some sort of beast. Dangling the accessory in front of the kid, the thin man considers its worth. “Hmmmm, fifty rupees.”
“What?” The kid exclaims, holding out his arms in an unbelieving pose. “Give me a break.”
“You’re right,” the salesman smiles, taking a cocky stance. “For you, seventy-five. Call it a trouble you’ve caused me tax.”
“This is just highway robbery. Tell him, Link!” The kid demands, tugging on the hero’s tunic. Simply rolling his eyes, the Hylian steps over to the salesman, pulls seventy-five rupees from his pouch, and drops them into the squinty-eyed dealer’s hand. Immediately dashing across the room, the kid snatches the mask from the man’s grasp, retreating to a shadowy corner to try it on. His business concluded, Link turns to leave when the salesman offers a proposal.
“Wait a moment. You look rather familiar,” he declares, poking his head forward to better study the hero’s face. “Indeed! You’re the very boy who retrieved my precious mask! My, it’s been quite some time hasn’t it?”
“It has,” Navi chimes in, her tone remaining accusative of the salesman. “You look well.”
“I don’t recall this one, though,” he smiles, rubbing his chin as he stares at the fairy.
“I wasn’t with him at the time,” she informs, strangely hostile toward the man. “I seem to recall seeing you in Hyrule. Castle Town market?”
“Oh yes, yes. I am a traveling salesman. I go wherever happiness is needed,” he nods, rubbing his hands together in what is becoming an obsessive manner. Though he couldn’t see it when he was young, Link senses something bizarre and unnatural about not only the man’s antics, but his anachronistic presence. Navi’s continual interrogation seemed rude at first, but more and more it is seeming to become justified.
“You mean where you’re told to go,” the fairy corrects, almost completely wiping the smile from the salesman’s face.
“Careful,” he warns, pronouncing the word slowly. “I don’t know who you are, but I deal in happiness,” he cautions, his erratic mannerisms pausing for only a moment before he turns his attention back to Link. “Your friend could benefit from some manners, but that is hardly my concern. You, young master,” he pauses, giving the Hylian a harder look up and down. “Well, not nearly so young anymore. You have helped me more than words can say. Please, allow me to return the favor. I will give you any mask you desire, free of charge.” Sighing at the meager proposal, Link decides they are wasting time with such childish endeavors. Subtly shaking his head, he turns to leave, waving for Navi to join him. “Wait, please!” The salesman pleads, sounding much more desperate than he intended. After clearing his throat, he regains his composure as the hero turns back and eyes him suspiciously.
“What good will a mask do us?” Navi asks, attempting to motivate her chosen’s departure more so than receive an answer.
“It’s unwise to underestimate the power of a mask. They are magic without magic. The simple act of concealing your face can show you who you really are,” he advertises, twitching nervously as the skull kid casually reappears at Link’s side.
“You seem uneasy,” Navi points out, continuing to ridicule the man.
“Not all are so kind as you,” he smirks, his tone making the task of determining whether he is being sarcastic or serious excessively difficult. “If you would be so kind as to accept a mask, I would feel as though my debt to you is fulfilled. It would make me very happy, and I suspect I have something amongst my wares that would m
ake you happy as well.”
“Link, I,” Navi starts, cut off as the Hylian steps forward with an irritated grumble. Producing a display table from seemingly nowhere, the salesman lays out a wide variety of masks. A fox with some kind of high-tech headgear. An Italian with a red cap and bushy mustache. A farmer with a bright blue cap reversed on his head. Dozens of absurd faces from mummies to magi to demons. Scanning the display with little interest, one mask does stand out from the rest. Studying it carefully, Link sees that it strongly resembles him, as if he were looking into an altered mirror. White hair springs from beneath a pale, blue cap in the hero’s signature style. The face itself seems as if it were molded from his own, covered with tribal war paint about the eyes creating an intimidating impression. Sensing his interest, the salesman swoops in to seal the deal.
“A fine choice. It’s been said the Fierce Deity mask rivals the power of mighty Majora. The wearer is infused with the power of a God,” he explains, chuckling at Link’s intense interest. “Of course those are just legends. However, if you’re interested, it’s all yours.”
“Did she put you up to this?” Navi asks, her strange questions falling on deaf ears as