The Scales That Bind

Chapter 9: Midnight Consolation

Oftentimes whenever Link slept, he wouldn't dream, particularly due to his inability to find a deep enough sleep to do so. Back in the barracks, Hylian knights were routinely kept on their toes at all hour, especially after the Akkalan uprising, when the King became quite weary of nearby threats, especially seeing as how his own subjects had rallied against the Crown. Link was still a young teenager at the time, and while his skills rivaled many of his superiors', it also meant he received the brunt of many jealous slights, unable to sleep soundly when even his fellow guards were threats to his rest. Only when he returned to his home did he ever find a true sense of sleep, but even then, he didn't dream much, or if he did, he must have forgotten them quickly upon waking.

This script would change whenever he had the opportunity to sleep alongside Mipha, the pair's hidden relationship often leading to them having to sneak their way into the bed of the other. Such was the case on this night, which even included Link's jailbreak at the hands of the Zora Prince, no less, and as had happened before in similar situations, Link found his mind wandering in sleep, visibly able to collect fragmented thoughts just long enough to feel them as nearly real.

While these dreams didn't usually extend beyond the realm of possibility, Link still found solace in his mind, particularly when experiencing dreams of his parents, dear friends, or, in tonight's case, a silhouetted view of his mother, sitting among different Zora warriors, teaching them different strategies and postures that she would utilize in her guard duty- the very same knowledge she would teach her son.

Link walked along this blurry dreamscape, many of the characters involved missing their faces in blurry hazes as he passed them, almost as though there were transparent flames covering them. He walked along the warrior's platform, an area specifically for battle preparation, examining what he could of the faces he was actually able to make out.

There was Dorak, his mother's only superior, a scraggily-bearded man who'd earned an endless number of stares from the hairless Zora, and an equal number of giggles from their children. Then Oshiel, the group's tracker, her claim to fame being a particularly nasty group of lizalfos who raided Mabe Village by night, single-handedly leading a small band of silent, armor-less warriors into their well-hidden cove and slaughtering them without casualty. Being the recipient of quite a few lizalfos attacks themselves, Oshiel left them in quiet awe as the recounted the tale, by Ikunk's tally, seventy-six times. Ikunk was their mathematician, though as Link passed him by, he couldn't make much out but his grey whiskers just barely escaping the haze.

He continued around the room, his gait slowed as a dastardly sinister presence overtook his dream, an icy chill running down his spine as he turned toward the ramp leading to this terrace, his childish eyes staring so deeply that he began to feel a fright consuming his heart. There was Marco, returning with a group of Zora marksmen, tossing his bow to the ground with a disconcern that permeated his entire attitude, turning toward Link's mother and scowling at her before shaking his head, returning to an area of the platform left for his band of Zora.

"Sorry men," Marco sputtered out as he passed past Link's mother, passive-aggressively muttering along, "If we had better equipment, I could demonstrate stuff to you without having to worry about snapping equipment."

The mother turned a vicious glance toward him after he passed, deciding to remain quiet as she returned to her own work, ignoring Marco as he fell back against a column, sitting there with an arm propped up on his elbow, nodding toward his band.

"Alright, that's enough for today. Remember, keep your eyes still and your hands more so," he explained, sighing from exhaustion, "Keep up your exercises and everything, okay?"

His band affirmed his instruction before filing out, leaving Marco to relax, resting his head back against the slender column as he shut his eyes, keeping the sweat from his brow from scorching them. The man brought up his sleeve to wipe his face, his eyes opening up just enough to catch the person entering the terrace as the warriors left, bowing her head to each and every one of them as they reciprocated in kind, Mipha's crimson skin appeared as the crowd left, her eyes quickly appraising the room before she approached Dorak, the leader of these humans.