Re: The Song of Healing and Mask of the Black Truth
OoC: Woo, woo, Chapter 2! Enjoy!
BiC: Clock Town was filled, almost wall to wall, with excited folk. Every square and plaza was choked with tourists, merchants, and workers. In some places, it was near impossible to walk past the great masses of people. So crowded was it, that the busy carpenters were having a difficult time working on the structures for the special event that was soon to come. This event was the annual Festival of Time, to which Clock Town was home to each year. Like clockwork, three days before the Festival, hordes of tourists flooded the streets, and merchants came in from remote regions to peddle their unique wares.
Separated from all this though, Shisho sat, blankly staring into a crystal ball. He perched on the high door of the clock tower that marked the center of the town. On occasion, he would look away from his object of divination to spy on the groups of happy people below. Among them, he could see the familiar forms of Zoras, Gorons, and surprisingly Deku. This land, which the mask salesman had revealed to be called Termina, seemed quite similar to Hyrule when one was above ground. Of course, with a goal that needed accomplishing, he did not think of the crowds for very long.
The first thing he needed to do in the constricting amount of time he was forced to work in, was find a Conductor’s Baton. After revealing his inability to play any instrument one might carry on hand, the mask salesman suggested the baton. Unfortunately, such an instrument was not enough to release the innate effects of the Song of Healing. To release the power of a song, a special kind of baton was necessary. Though no more difficult to use than one of average make, they were near impossible to locate. So, as the Magi are famous for doing, Shisho looked into a summoned crystal ball, trying to find one.
Time passed and people moved, but a baton would not show its image within the sphere. The crystal showed him many pictures, from simple wooden doors to entire geographical regions. A few images stood out to him though. The Moon crying, a mirrored scythe, and an unknown creature, were a group he particularly liked. Eventually though, the image he desired came into view. A blue baton sitting on a wooden table was what the ball showed him. Then, the image switched to an overview on part of town, which slowly zoomed out until Shisho himself was in the picture.
Now he had a location to go with his item. Putting the ball under his arm, he cast his spell for making his jump greater. Making a powerful leap, he flew onto a wooden fixture high on a wall. Another leap, and he was standing on the top of that wall. From what his crystal was showing, the place he needed to go was almost right beneath him. Taking the ball in both hands, he jumped from the wall, landing before the entrance to the very place he needed to go. A small sign, marked with a single character he couldn’t recognize, hung near the door.
The baton waiting for him on the other side, he set down his crystal ball and let himself in. No more than half a step beyond the threshold, he was nearly hit by a sword strike. Alarmed, Shisho swung his gloved hand upwards, striking the assailant on the chin. They limply fell to the floor, clearly unsuspecting of the counterstrike. He would have pounced on the downed attacker just then, had he not been met with the numerous awkward stares from the others in the room. Reexamining the place he had just entered, he found that he had walked into what looked like a sword training center.
Immediately, he felt worse than he had felt in a long while. It was not for hurting someone though; it was for making a spectacle of himself in a negative way. “Oh man!” he said as soon as he realized what was going on, “I’m sorry, seriously!” Extending his hand, he helped the man back to his feet. Embarrassed to death, and unable to handle that kind of pressure, he apologized one more time and then turned to leave. “Hold on!” someone said as he was about to walk out, “Who is it that just came into my dojo and knocked one of my students to the floor?”
Although embarrassed, he was not rude enough to ignore that kind of question after what he had just done. Turning back, he looked to the one who he thought asked. “Well?” the man demanded. Quickly, Shisho walked across the room so he stood right before the man. If he was going to receive ridicule, he would rather the icy stares of the other people to be at his back. “I, I apologize,” he said, giving several little bows, “I didn’t know what this place was. I’m sorry didn’t mean to hurt him.”
“I asked you for your name.”
“My name’s Shisho, and once again, I’m sorry.”
To that, he seemed expressionless, since his white hair and beard covered his facial features. “Well Shisho,” he began, “Congratulations! You’ve just taken down my only student who’s head has never met the floor.” As soon as he said that, the others in the room began to clap. Hearing such a response, Shisho’s uneasy feeling melted away. “Now!” the man continued as the others resumed the sword training that had been interrupted by the incident, “What can I do for you on this, the third day before the Festival of Time?”
“Well,” Shisho began, still a bit off balance from what had just taken place, “I wish to purchase a rare item I think might be here.”
“And what item might that be?” the man asked, “If it’s our original Moon Cutter’s Gong, then you can forget it.”
“No, it’s a special Conductor’s Baton. It’s blue I believe.”
“That old thing? Well then, no rupees are necessary. Seeing Seth get knocked off his feet, without having to do it myself, is payment enough. Stay right there; I’ll go search for it.”
Turning back, the man began looking around all the tables that sat on the raised section of the floor only he stood upon. Shortly, he found it and handed it over. The image in the crystal ball did not do it justice. This finely crafted instrument let off an iridescent blue glow, even though it was so thin. Little fins, in the shapes of drops of water, branched off near the bottom. This was clearly the special baton he was looking for. “It’s made from a shard of a Moon’s Tear, a very valuable stone,” the man said, “That’s why it’s called the Baton of Tears. I never use it anymore though, so I don’t mind parting with it.”
“So tell me Shisho, what is it you want the baton for? Are you conducting a band for the Festival?”
“No, I’m not attending the Festival.”
“What? That can’t be right. Have you ever went before then?”
“No.”
“Do you even know the history of the Festival?”
“No.”
“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to fill you in on that. Come, take your shoes off and take a seat up here.”
“I’m sorry, I can‘t. There’s something I’ve got to do.”
“Then I’m sorry as well, because I’m going to have to insist.”
Well that’s odd, Shisho thought, This guy must really love the Festival if he has to insist someone know of it. This better not take too long. I need to get out of here. Though he had somewhere else to be, he had been asked to listen; so he would listen. Sitting down on the edge of the raised section, he yanked off his boots and set them on the floor. Getting up, he walked over to the little table the man was sitting at. Choosing the end opposite him, he sat down and made himself comfortable. Explanations behind cultural events were always long, so he needed a good seat to get through it.
+**********************
First, the prologue to the greater story, the man began. Each year, the season of harmony begins when the sun and moon are in alignment. Paying homage to the way that both nature and time are tirelessly in the process of progressing, the Carnival of Time is when the peoples of the four worlds celebrate that harmony and request fruitfulness for the year. For ages, people have worn masks resembling the giants who are the gods of the four worlds. For a long while, it has been customary for each person to bring a handmade mask to the Carnival of Time.
The centerpiece of the Carnival is the Clock Tower, and on the eve of all the festivities, the doors to its roof are opened. From atop the Clock Tower roof, a ceremony to call the gods is held and an ancient song is sung. This ancient song is called the Oath to Order. All of these festivities for the Carnival of Time are held so that we may ask the gods for a rich harvest in the year to come! Every year the Carnival occurs, and every year the fruits of our yearly labor are enjoyed. That is the reason we celebrate the Carnival of Time every year here in Clock Town.
That, however, is only one of the reasons it is celebrated…
This next tale’s from long ago, when all the people weren’t separated into four world like they are now. In those times, all the people lived together, and the Four Giants lived among them. On the day of the festival that celebrates the harvest, the giants spoke to the people. “We have chosen to guard the people while we sleep. 100 steps north, 100 steps south, 100 steps east, 100 steps west. If you have need, call us in a loud voice by declaring something such as, ‘the mountain blizzard has trapped us.’ Or, ‘the ocean is about to swallow us.’ Your cries shall carry to us.”
Now then… There was one who was shocked and saddened by all this. A little imp. The imp was a friend of the giants since before they had created the four worlds. “Why must you leave? Why do you not stay?” The childhood friend felt neglected, so he spread his anger across the four worlds. Repeatedly, he wronged all people. Overwhelmed with misfortune, the people sang the song of prayer to the giants who lived in each of the four compass directions. The giants heard their cry and responded with a roar. “Oh, imp. Oh, imp. We are the protectors of the people.”
“You have caused the people pain. Oh, imp, leave these four worlds! Otherwise, we shall tear you apart!”
The imp was frightened and saddened. He had lost his old friends. The imp returned to the heavens, and harmony was restored to the four worlds. And the people rejoiced and they worshiped the giants of the four worlds like gods. And they thought they were going to live happily every after. After being so lonely for so long, the imp returned to the four worlds. This time, he made no mischief, not wanting to anger the friends he still cared for. He merely sat out of their sight, growing sadder and sadder as time went on. He was truly a pathetic soul.
One day however, he was found, sitting in the rain, by a brother and a sister fairy. The three huddled together for warmth, and they became friends. To the dismay of the fairies, that did not last long. On one occasion, the imp stole a great power that turned his sadness into anger, and that into hate. Using that power, he turned on the giants who had left him, and threatened to drop the moon down on the four worlds. The people now had no hope. Through all of this, the fairies stayed by his side, remaining loyal to one who they thought was still their friend.
As if to fill in for the giants absence, a young boy dressed in green came to the people‘s aid. Through some error by the imp, one of his fairies was left with him, and they worked together to save her friend. With the power to manipulate time, he finished fifteen days of work in only three. After a long struggle, the imp was stripped of his power and placed at the mercy of the giants. As it turned out, they were only doing their duty when they threatened him before, and still considered him a friend. The imp made peace with all that he had done, and this time, they all lived happily… Ever after…
The other reason we celebrate is to give thanks that our land was not obliterated by the moon.
*+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
“Well now, wasn’t that an excellent tale?” the man said after he finished his story, “Is not that enough to convince you to attend our Festival?”
“I’m sorry,” Shisho answered, keeping his seat despite the need to continue on, “But I’m in a great hurry. Perhaps I’ll attend after my mission’s complete, but until then I need to get moving.”
“Fair enough! But a word to the wise young adventurer within you. That boy in green from the legend was not only a savior, but a member of the Bombers Secret Cabal of Injustice as well. Before too long, you’ll run into one of them, and when you do, watch out. Until recently, they were peaceful, but now they’re malicious. They prey on fortunate men like yourself. You can spot one by their distinctive caps and shirts, which are marked with low numbers.”
“Thank you; I will heed your advice.”
Rising to his feet, the Mage gave a small bow to the still seated master of the dojo. Quickly slipping his boots on, he walked over to the exit. Before he could leave, he caught a glimpse of one of the students bow in his direction. Looking over to him, he was just able to catch the man throwing a Deku Seed at his head. Letting out a little laugh as the student resumed his training, he opened the door and walked out. Just as he had thought, his crystal was no longer where he left it. This was funny as well. Whoever took it wasn’t going to have it for long. Finished with the afterthought, he began on his way to the Clock Tower.
+***************************
After a short walk, Shisho had passed through the doors that led into the Clock Tower. Almost as if he had only left for a moment, the mask salesman was still standing in the exact same spot. This man was either supernatural, or just creepier than the Mage himself. But then again, people like him were hard ones to judge. Casting aside such rude thoughts, he descended the stairs and approached.
“Were you able to get an item that will play music?” he asked as soon as Shisho came near, “Oh! Oh! Ohhh!!! You got it! You got it! You got it! You got it!!!” As soon as his last exclamation was finished, he dashed to the back wall and sat down in a chair that had not been there a second before. At his fingertips, there now stood a colossal organ. Three rows of keys spanned nearly the entire length of the room, and mechanics towered upwards until they were nearly touching the gears of the Clock Tower. “Then listen to me. Please play this song that I am about to perform, and remember it well… Follow along after me.”
Hunching over, the mask salesman began tapping the keys. He played a six note progression, which repeated the same three descending sounds, twice. Looking away from the organ, he waited for Shisho to follow along. Hastily, he pulled out his Conductor’s Baton and mimicked the notes that had just been played. With that, they began to play in tune. Note by note, the conductor followed the organists lead, matching each sound he played. With a whistle from his lips to match each motion, he played and learned the song he had searched so long for. He had learned the Song of Healing at last.
“This is a melody that heals evil magic and troubled spirits, turning them into masks,” the mask salesman said after the melody had been completed. He was already standing before Shisho like he had been before, and the organ that seemed too heavy to move, was now gone, as if it had never been in the first place. “I am sure it will be of assistance to your family. Now, I have fulfilled my promise to you. So, please, give me that which you promised me…” To that, the Mage could say nothing. He simply averted his eyes. “Don’t tell me… My mask… You did… Get it back… Didn’t you?”
Suddenly, a look of rage covered his face. Quick as Shisho’s eye could see, he grabbed him by the shoulders and began violently shaking him back and forth. “What have you done to me!?!” he shouted, letting the Mage go, and swinging his head from side to side, “If you leave my mask out there, something terrible will happen!”
“The mask that I lost… It is called the White Mage Mask. It is and accursed item that was used by mountain dwellers from the Magi tribe in their hexing rituals. They said that an extraordinary and devastating power is bestowed upon the one who wears that mask. According to them… The troubles caused by the White Mage Mask were so great… The Magi, fearing such catastrophe, sealed the mask in stone, preventing its misuse. But now that group has vanished, so no one really knows the true nature of the mask’s power. But I feel it.”
“I went to great lengths to get that mask. When I finally had it, I could sense the doom of a dark omen brewing. It was that unwelcome feeling that makes your hair stand on end. And now… Some stranger has it. I am begging you! You must get that mask back quickly, or something horrible will happen! I’m begging you! I’m begging you! You must do it! Really? You’ll do it for me? I was certain you would tell me that. You’ll be fine! Surely, you can do it. Believe in your strengths… Believe…”