The sky is infinite. It is untouchable and it is the only thing within reach. It is brimming with stars and it is empty, it is unobstructed and obscured by clouds. It is dark, cold. It is bright. It is black, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet, pink. The sun and moon are twins mirrored at either horizon and meet at the apex of the higher realm.

It is raining.

The stone walls are slick from it. It washes away everything but the wreaths of fire that enshroud the parapets. The moat swells and rises to swallow a gasp and the last whisper. 

Poison-purple smoke pours out the doors of a grand temple and stains a child’s fingers red. White flames overtake the summer-green prairies and winter-blue forests. A bell tolls, the one-too-many clangs sinking into the earth and splitting it open.

When the world cracks apart it does so with the cry of a man.

Leafy bushes lined the Great Deku Tree’s clearing, growing around the roots of the old growth trees that made the body of the Kokiri Forest. In late spring, the shade of the forest’s canopy held on to the cool night air at dawn. The Deku Tree sighed, the ancient tree spirit’s enormous trunk heaving, his branches rustling. A strong breeze swept the clearing. He spoke to the fairy before him, his voice a low murmur, nearly indistinguishable from the hum of the earth itself. The water fairy, glowing rare blue in the pink sunrise, flitted about in front of his nose. 

It was as rare to see a fairy alone in the forest as a Kokiri. It was rare for such a somber air to settle over this clearing, so often filled with light and laughter. The hushed conversation between the fairy and the Deku Tree ended abruptly with the fairy zipping away, into the forest proper, leaving morning dew on the leaves that her wings brushed as she flew. She knew the forest well and navigated through the trees with urgency. 

She broke into a larger clearing as the first proper rays of sun shone over the tops of the trees. Little wooden doors on little tree houses creaked open, and the Kokiri village sprang to life as the children of the forest woke up. The fairy weaved and winded, dove between the slats of a garden fence and looped up around a small suspension bridge. One early riser jumped out into her path, and in narrowly avoiding colliding with the toddler’s head, she swerved instead into a lattice with a disgruntled squeak. She shook herself and kept flying. 

At the southern edge of the village was a treehouse with a crude drawing of a small figure battling a somewhat blob-shaped clawed monster carved into the trunk. It had a curtain for a door, making it easy for the fairy to slip inside. From the ground below, curious eyes watched the curtain flutter. 

Inside the small hut was a bed, under the window, which never really got much sun because it faced south and into the dense forest. Sprawled in the bed, fast asleep, was a boy, who had springy, dark curly hair, and brown freckled cheeks still well round with youth. His pointed cap was askew from having worn it to bed, and his blanket was kicked off and tangled around his feet. He drooled slightly onto his pillow. 

Navi hoped the boy had a nice dream. She fluttered around his face, calling into his ear, “Hey, Link! Wake up!” 

Link didn’t rouse, only snuffled and buried his face in the pillow. Normally Navi would be happy to let him wake in his own time, but there was no time for that today, there was an emergency. “Link, listen! The Great Deku Tree is asking for you, okay, wake up! Now!” 

If anything, the boy seemed to just get more asleep, splaying out on his belly and sinking deeper into the mattress. Navi looked up in exasperation and started bouncing up and down on his shoulder. That didn’t work; she was too light and Link had always been both a deep sleeper and sturdier than the other Kokiri. 

So she sprayed water into his ear. 

Link sprang upright with a loud, disgusted whine, swiping at his pointed ear. Navi hovered around him while he pouted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and fixing his cap. When he spotted her, the grumpiness evaporated from his face and he grinned, his big, round brown eyes sparkling with joy. 

“Navi!” He gasped. The boy couldn’t see past her glow the way she winced as his voice cracked. “You’re back! It’s been forever!”

She dimmed her light so Link could see her properly, and smiled. She didn’t comment on the fact that Link had grown-- a lot-- in the year since her last visit to the forest. “I know, too long. I’ll have to tell you all my stories later, though, okay? The Deku Tree is asking for you.”

“Mmgh,” Link rubbed his eyes again. “Now?”

“Yes, Link,” Navi said. At her solemn tone, Link’s his eyes widened, and he scooted to the edge of the bed. 

“Now?” He repeated, the meaning different. 

“Yes, Link,” Navi also repeated, the meaning the same. 

Link shoved his bare feet into his boots and put his belt on crooked in his hurry. Navi tugged it into place as he burst outside and slid down the ladder. In the grass in front of his house, a Kokiri with dark green hair and tuscan-brown skin waited, waving to them both. 

“Good morning, Link! Hi, Navi!” Saria greeted. Her smile was sunny, but her inquisitive concern peeked around the edges. “I thought that was you flying around!” Link returned her greeting in the form of a full hug, and Saria blinked in surprise. 

Saria was Link’s best friend, always had been and always would be. They were two of the three Kokiri in the entire forest who didn’t have their own fairy, a companion for life, connected to and a part of them. Navi kept a bit of an eye on both of them for years, when she could, but it wasn’t the same at all and the other kids never let them forget it. 

The children of the forest were sort of all like siblings, in that the Deku Tree was a father to all of them, but Link had always thought Saria was more his sister and him her brother than any other Kokiri. 

“Saria, it’s good you’re here,” Navi said. “We need to find all the oldest kids, the Great Deku needs to speak with you all. Is Fado off on her own again?”

“Oh,” Saria pried Link’s arms off her shoulders and turned. “Actually, she’s right over there.” 

Fado was the third fairy-less Kokiri. Instead of playing with Link and Saria, which she had been invited to, she preferred to be by herself, lurking at the edge of their forest with a giant magic boomerang that she’d tell anyone who asked was her fairy. No one believed her, not even Link or Saria really, but they didn’t make fun of her like other kids did. 

The loner in question was walking towards them, nudging a younger Kokiri, the one Navi almost crashed into. 

“Well?” Fado said, as monotone and straight-faced as ever, to the young spirit. The toddler looked down at their hands, their fairy fluttering shyly around their shoulder. 

“‘M sorry for making you crash, Miss Navi,” they mumbled. Navi bobbed up and down. 

“Apology accepted,” she said, and the young Kokiri nodded and scuttled away. Fado turned to leave as well, but stopped when Navi continued, “Fado, do you know where Mido is?” 

Fado looked off to the edge of the clearing and pointed with her boomerang-- the others ducked as it swung over their heads, because the boomerang was nearly as big as Fado, and Fado was the tallest of the Kokiri. 

“Where he always is.” 

A common misconception people had of the Kokiri, as told in folklore, was that as eternal children, they didn’t grow. They did, they were born from the forest, sprouting from flower buds or emerging from tangles of roots and piles of leaves, along with their fairy. And they grew, from infant to child, in the likeness and with the minds of human children. However, each of these spirits did reach an age at which they stopped growing, the state of youth in which they would remain for a considerable amount of time before they returned to the forest, starting their unique cycle of life anew. Some stayed younger than others, while some grew until they matched a human child’s age of twelve, but never any older. Most only reached some point in between.

There were only four Kokiri within their generation that have grown as much as a Kokiri could. Three of them stood in the grass in front of Link’s treehouse, and the fourth one was, as Fado said, where he always was. 

Mido marched back and forth in front of the pathway that led to the Deku Tree’s clearing, his fairy bouncing along to the same rhythm. His chin was stuck high in the air and his shoulders were pushed back to make himself look bigger. He held a thick, long wooden stick over his shoulder. He claimed it was his job to protect the village from monsters, but the truth was he’d never faced anything more intimidating than a simple house spider, the little kind that made webs in unused cupboards, and actually spent most of his time picking on Link and Saria, snitching on them to the Deku Tree when they snuck out of their own part of the forest and into the Lost Woods to play. 

Getting closer it became apparent that Mido was distracted. He kept craning his neck to peek down the pathway, offsetting his attempts to act natural. Saria skipped over to him ahead of the others. 

“Mido,” she said, but Mido shushed her without looking, still trying to peer down the shaded path. 

“Shh, Saria!” He hissed. “I’m trying to eavesdrop here! Miss Navi is back in the forest. She’s talking to the Great Deku Tree about something important, I can tell, and I’m going to be the first to hear it, got that? So scram!” Saria looked back at the other spirits with a pinched expression. Link shrugged. Navi flitted agitatedly. 

“But Mido--” Saria tried only to be cut off again. 

“I said shut up!” 

“Ahem!” Navi squeaked, and Mido jolted, finally turning around. 

“M-Miss Navi!” The ranklesome Kokiri laughed nervously. “I- I didn’t see you there. How are you, uh, milady?” Navi misted him, and Mido honked and swiped the moisture off his face. 

“No time for scolding,” she said, “The important conversation the Deku Tree and I had, Mido, was that you all need to come speak with him right away.” She started down the tree-lined path. Mido’s eyes widened. 

“Me?” 

“And us,” Saria sniped as she passed Mido to follow Navi. Link came up behind her and stuck his tongue out at him. 

“Good grief.” Mido grumbled under his breath about Link and Saria being the favourites as the line of Kokiri trailed after the water fairy like ducklings.

Upon reaching the Great Deku Tree, it was immediately clear that all was not well. The Kokiri stood before the father of the forest, huddled under a dark cloud of dread and sadness which threatened torrential downpour. 

“Great Deku Tree!” Navi called, whirling up to hover in front of the ancient tree’s face. “We’re here!”

With a rustling of leaves that sounded more like a thunderous waterfall, the Deku Tree woke, the aged bark of his face shifting. 

“Oh, Navi… ye han returned… and I sense withal ye here the children.”

“Yes, wise one.”

Illness had rended the Great Deku Tree for months. No matter how many charms were cast on the soil around him, or how pure the water was which fed his sprawling roots, he only grew weaker as his bark turned ashen, his leaves spotty. In the last few days alone, the illness had made him blind. The Deku Tree sighed. 

“Children… come ye near, please. I would to aske you alle… your dremes these passed moons, han they ben restless, dark? Han ye hadden nightmares?”

The Deku Tree was a being brought into the world already ancient, in a time equally long passed, and he spoke like the relic he was. Link often had trouble understanding him, privately fearing he was the only one who did. The Kokiri glanced among each other with wide eyes. Mido’s face screwed up in confusion, but Link nodded, and so did Fado. Saria turned from her friends and said to the Deku Tree, “Yes, we have.” 

The Tree made a deep, grave noise, his branches rustling again. “As I dredded. I am sory, myne children. A wikked force restide within this land, but it is restless, and shall rise ayen soon… as the devoten of this evil gainen strength, the balance of oure relme bowith into darkeness. Whenne us alle of this relme sleepen, we drawe nearer to the relme hen which hiden… ye may feelen this unbalance thenne.” 

“Great Deku Tree, what else?” Navi prompted. The Deku Tree let out a pained groan. 

“Aye, myne apologes… I am findinge it difficult to focus. In myne weaknen state, I han bicomen infecten withal a parasite of darke power in origine… it han infiltraten myne core and is spreding son poison throue myne rootes… myne rootes rechen the verry bordures of oure blessid forest, and shuld this parasite han its way, the verry erthe under youre littel feete shall be scarred eouer-more, and life in the Kokiri forest as we knouen it shall ende.”

The gathered Kokiri gasped in horror. Link gripped Saria’s sleeve. Even Navi shivered in malaise. 

“I am sory to casten this burden upon ye, myne children… I am the Grand Maku Tree, fadher of the forest, Great Deku Tree. Youre guardian. It ouen not befallen ye to keepe me, yet I must aske of ye this… Link, Saria, Fado, Mido. You alle, the eldest of the Kokiri… the strongest, wisest, and bravest… arme yourselfes, and delve ye deepe into myne core. Eradicate thon parasite. It be too late fir me… but thither may yet be time to save oure forest.”

“G-Great Deku Tree, no!” Mido cried out, pushing forward. “Don’t say that, please! We’ll find a way to heal you like we promised, okay! We will!”

“Head-strong Mido, ye han finishen growing, and yet ye han eouer muche growing nedes… ye shall learnen, in time, to fiyte hen battels that may not be won withal fistes.” He shook, and brown, dead leaves rained down around them, adding more to the blanket of fall that already covered the spring clearing. “There is littel time. Brave Link… ye must to retreven the Kokiri sword and shield. Withal thon ancient giftes han in ye hand, ye shall lead youre fellowis children of the forest in hen dire trial. I han fore-sheuen this.”

Link’s eyes widened. The others looked at him, and he stood up straighter, squaring his shoulders. He looked up at the Deku Tree and nodded. The Tree could not see, but he sensed Link’s determination. He gave a weary chuckle. 

“Brave Link, Curious Saria, Resolute Fado, and Headstrong Mido… I connen no more promise the future of the Kokiri, but ye connen. Burne what must be burnnen… tende what must be tenden. Now, hie ye forth. Navi shall be youre guide. Whenne she speakes, ye shall listen.” With a deep sigh, the Deku Tree settled, and slipped back into his unrestful sleep. Navi flew back down to the children’s level as they all turned to each other.

Immediately, Mido exploded. “I can’t believe this!” He shouted, his face and eyes reddened. “The Great Deku Tree wants Link to be our leader!? Seriously?” He pointed right in Link’s face. Link looked down at Mido’s finger in front of his nose and frowned. Saria stepped up next to them. 

“The Great Deku Tree said he saw it in a vision, Mido!”

“Vision or not, a wimp is still a wimp!”

“Children!” Navi huffed. “There’s no time to argue!”

“I am not following this loser! He doesn’t deserve the sword and shield, he’s barely even a real Kokiri!” He put his hands on Link’s shoulders and shoved. Link stumbled back a half step then surged forward, pushing Mido back.

“Stop that!” Navi snapped. Mido flinched, and Link clenched his fists at his sides. “Mido! Apologize!”

“He pushed me, too!”

“Now.”

For such a tiny, sparkly little fairy, Navi could be extremely intimidating. Mido shrunk in on himself, and his fairy hovered timidly behind his shoulder. “I’m-- sorry…” he ground out, his face aflame. Link just glared at him. 

“We are going to do as the Great Deku Tree says,” Navi reaffirmed. “I know where the Kokiri Sword and Shield are. Follow me, children, and don’t fight.” She floated back to the edge of the clearing. Fado followed. Mido made a rude gesture at Link, who growled back. 

“Just ignore him, Link,” Saria muttered to her friend, purposefully loud enough that Mido could hear. She cast a dark look at the antagonistic Kokiri. “He’s just jealous because he’s not as strong as you. Let’s go.”

The Kokiri Sword and Shield were gifted to the young spirits centuries ago, by a mortal tribe that once lived at the edge of their forest. It was a time before Kokiri forest became the sanctuary it was now, and the Lost Woods encircling them a barrier. The Kokiri, new to the world, were small and scared and vulnerable without a guardian, as children would be. But, unlike mortal children, they could not simply be adopted into this nearby tribe, as concerned for the young spirits as they were. They were of the forest and could not, would not be taken from it, and also could not have outsiders live there with them. 

So the tribe offered them a sword and shield, as a way to protect themselves. 

When that was not enough, their king called upon the gods to give them a true guardian, which was the Great Deku Tree. 

This kind tribe unfortunately vanished from history itself soon after, long before the lifetimes of any of this new generation of Kokiri. Though their reverance and gratitude ran deep, even they had forgotten the tribe’s name. 

Navi led the morose line of Kokiri through the trees, following a long grown over path. They had to climb over lichen-covered boulders and push their way through thick hanging vines to reach the hidden clearing. 

There, beams of sunlight broke through the tree cover and alighted upon an old stone chest. It was framed by a wreath of twisting branches, and overgrown with grasses and moss. Just looking at it filled Link with a sense of wonder, this hidden treasure from a past age. Navi floated over to the chest and perched atop it. 

“Go on, Link,” she said. “Open it.”

Overwhelming emotions swelled like a summer storm inside Link and offered two options; to let them paralyze him, or to seize them and turn them to action. The strongest, the core of the storm was fear. The Deku Tree was dying and that made Link afraid. Without the father of the forest, everything would change, in ways none of them knew, maybe not even Navi, who seemed to know everything, and that made Link afraid. The Great Deku Tree chose him to wield the legendary Kokiri sword and shield, but he was different from the other Kokiri, sometimes felt even more different than Saria or Fado, in ways he didn’t know how to explain. The idea that maybe the Deku Tree made a mistake in choosing him made Link more terrified than anything.

The Deku Tree called him brave. Link didn’t feel brave, his hands shaking like they were, but if he failed, it wouldn’t be from giving up. Breaking away from the group, Link slowly walked forward. 

Navi took flight as Link reached the chest and kneeled down. He brushed greenery and moss from its surface, revealing the latch. The anxious part of him expected it to be stuck, rusted over or simply refuse to open in the old spell’s rejection of him. But the lid lifted easily, smoothly without even a creak or groan from its hinges. The Kokiri all held their breath as Link looked inside. 

The shield was carved from wood, sanded and polished, of fine craftsmanship. The emblem of the Kokiri was carved on the face and painted in, surrounded by etched protective runes and unfamiliar symbols that all twined together like vines. It was framed by a metal rim that caught the light and gleamed. The blade of the sword was metal, too. Link was surprised to see it, having subconsciously expected it to be made all of wood, like everything else in their forest haven. The sword’s handle, though, was wooden, the guard applied with a russet-red stain, the grip wrapped tightly in soft tan leather. Folded underneath was a thick leather cross-body belt, and attached, the sword’s scabbard.

They were so simple in make, yet were not to be mistaken for crude toys. They were very real, and so was everything they represented. Link’s hands trembled as he first picked up the sword. It was lighter than he thought it would be, and fit in his hand like the ancient mortal tribe had him in mind when they crafted it. He slid it into the scabbard and took the shield. It was heavier than he thought it would be. He threaded his arm through the strap and gripped the hold, holding it against his torso. It, too, suited him perfectly. 

His heart raced and breath quivered as he put the belt over his shoulder and fixed the buckle closed over his front. Navi’s blue glow hovered just above the reach of his eyes, a familiar comfort. With the sword and shield on his back, Link stood, and turned to meet the faces of the other Kokiri. 

The first one he looked to, as always, was Saria. Her wide eyes were misty and bright, as proud as they were sad. 

Fado’s expression was subtle, but her pale blue eyes revealed she was impressed. Mido, opposedly, trembled with silent crimson turmoil. His pale freckled cheeks were ruddy and dark and his shoulders were high and tense, suggesting rage, but it was betrayed by the tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He said nothing, though, which was unlike him.

It occurred to Link that the others were probably all as scared as he was. Navi settled on his shoulder. “It’s time,” she said.

The walk back to the Deku Tree’s clearing was quiet, the air tense and solemn. Mido re-armed himself with his improvised baton, and Saria pulled from her pocket a slingshot. When they arrived before the Deku Tree again, he awoke with great effort, his branches becoming stiffer. He needn’t ask if Link had done as he was told, he knew intrinsically the young boy had taken up the sword and shield. He could sense the change in Link already. 

“Goode…” the old tree sighed. “Myne children… ye soone to forth-bringen an era newborne. I wish I coulde conduin ye through, but the sonne setten on myne leafes for thon last of time. Ye alle are the children of the forest. It is the wish of all parentes for their children to out-liven them, so be youre nature. There is muche I wish might soth-sayen, but withal so littel time, I caution ye sole this… Link. The future it be cloueded, but upon the distant horison I clerely fore-seen… ye han a mightiful destinye. Ye are a pillere of hope, myne son.” His face fell and hardened. With a mighty tremble, he shook the ground and pulled his roots apart, splitting the earth between them. The spot where the Kokiri would once all gather to sit and listen to the Deku Tree’s stories crumbled and fell away, leaving an open pit leading into the dark underground. “Now… it bine time. Folwen the tunneles. Han hope. And, Navi… rememorien what wit discussed.”

He fell silent and settled, the only sound for them to seek answers from being the distant twittering of birds and the chittering of small critters hidden in the forest around them. Navi hovered in a circle above the entrance to the newly formed tunnel. 

“So…” Mido took a step back. “That’s it? We just… go down?” 

Saria tightened her hold on her slingshot. “We go down.”

Link approached the entrance. He wiped his sweaty hands on his tunic and took a deep breath. “We’re not really going down, I think,” he said quietly. “I… think we’re really going forward.” 

“Well said, Link,” Navi said. 

“Good grief,” Mido grumbled under his breath. “That doesn’t even make any sense. Obviously the tunnel goes down.” 

“It makes sense,” Fado muttered back as she passed him. Navi fluttered down into the dark, steep hole. 

“I’ll light the way,” she said. “Stay behind me, please, children. And watch your step.” 

Her blue glow brightened as she descended. Link went first, sliding down the dirt slope in a sideways crouch. Saria went next, dragging a hand behind her for balance. Fado followed, picking her way down on her feet, a breeze from her boomerang swirling around her and keeping her upright. 

Before he entered, Mido looked up at the Deku Tree’s still face. “E-everything’s going to be okay, Great Deku Tree,” he said. “We’ll heal you, and everything will go back to normal. You’ll see.” He inched forward and tumbled down the hole after the others.