(Fan/MC) Ancient Wind [G]

New original fiction I started for my English class...

Ancient Wind

Chapter 1

Mathra Ohed's ragged, light brown tunic flapped in the breeze. Her bright green eyes pierced through the arid, burning air, searching the distant sand dunes for any sign of her husband, Gregor. Usually, when he left on one of his wanderings into the desert, he came back within a week. Despite her desperate attempts to squeeze information from him, he was always too delirious when he came back to say anything. If she mentioned it later, he claimed she was crazy, and that he never went on such hikes.

She pulled the orange wisps of hair from her freckled, tear-stained cheeks. Greg had been gone for almost two weeks this time. The Maruba Desert was a cruel, relentless wasteland, and he couldn't possibly survive it much longer. Mathra was mystified at how he lasted even a week out there. At times, she wondered if maybe there was something or someone out there that her husband was meeting with. There couldn't be any other explanation.

Sighing, she turned and pulled open the flap to their large, domed hut, positioned against a large pinnacle of rock jutting from the coarse sand. The slight scent of animal fur and sweat wafted from the entrance as she ducked inside. The inside of the tent was about twenty feet long and wide. Wild boar skins covered the floor, and a low round table sat to the right. To the left was a large bed, made of oak and covered with bearskins. Against the far side, the tent hugged the rock, and an opening let a trickle of water through, which created a small pool at the base of the cliff.

Mathra dragged her feet as she walked to the bed. Kicking off her worn sandals, she let gravity take over and flopped onto the bed, trying to hold back tears. After a few minutes, she couldn't keep it in any longer, and she burst into sobs. Suddenly, there was a soft thump at the door. She jolted upright to see the dirty, ragged, dehydrated figure of her husband, slumped over against the doorpost.

"Gregor!" She exclaimed, frantically rubbing the salty water from her face and sniffling as she rushed to his side. He was just about to collapse, and she caught him. She dragged his almost lifeless body across the floor, ruffling and turning up the corners of the dark brown skins, and set him against the bed, taking a deep breath before attempting to heave him up onto it.

It took a few tries, but finally she managed to roll his limp body onto the bed. She rushed over to the table and grabbed the metal flask lying in the middle. After filling it with water from the spring, she carefully tried to pour water into Greg's mouth. Unfortunately, only a little got past his lips, as her hands were trembling and he started coughing halfway through. Mathra slapped his face lightly, whispering his name through her tears. His eyes slowly opened.

"...Where...am I?" He croaked in confusion. Mathra's eyes grew slightly larger. This was worse than usual. But that was probably to be expected. After all, he had been out in the desert for a while.

"Shhh. Just rest. Drink this," Mathra said, holding the flask up to his cracked lips. He winced as it slid down his rough, raw throat, and started coughing violently. Mathra held him as he sat up, clutching his throat. After it calmed down, he gave a few dry retches and passed out on the bed.

))((~~~~(())~~~~))((

Darkness. Freezing air wafted over Gregor's body. His toes felt like ice. Opening his eyes, he found a rough ceiling a couple yards above him, shrouded in shadows. No...it couldn't be...

"NO! SOMEONE, PLEASE, HELP ME!!" He screamed, leaping upright and tumbling head over heels onto something soft. He clutched the strange floor, breathing rapidly. Feeling lightheaded, he saw the faint image of a woman leaning over him. It's her! Gregor realized, panicking. Quickly he thrust her off and searched for the exit. A small crack of light to his left...not in the usual location.

He frantically pushed his way through the darkness toward that crack, not daring to imagine what was behind him. The crack was easily split apart with his hands, and he saw the beautiful, familiar dunes of sand, nearly glowing with moonlight. The dark, navy blue sky was sparkling with tiny white specks, and the orb of light, the goddess of the night, the moon, welcomed him with its soft light.

Turning around, he saw a curving wall of animal skins instead of the rough granite walls of the temple. What was this? How did he get there?

A tall woman with tangled orange hair parted the crack in the wall he had come through. Greg stumbled over backwards, putting a dent in the sand. Never had he imagined her looking like this. The descriptions he had heard always put the picture of a shadowy fire demon in his head. Maybe she could change her form to lure in victims...

"Stay away from me!" He growled, scooting backwards. The woman seemed confused and scared, but he knew it was just a trap. He would not be taken. Quickly he pushed himself up and into a mad dash. No destination in particular, his main concern was escaping that place. As sand spilled down the dunes behind his bare feet, he tried to ignore the frantic shouts of the woman. How does she know my name? She must be the one...

))((~~~~(())~~~~))((

Mathra squeezed her eyes shut and resisted the urge to run after him. She had tried that before. It had ended in a black eye and dark bruises on her arms. Once Greg was in one of his weird trances, all she could do was wait until he came out of it. But he had barely gotten a drink of water before leaving again.

It had all started with the death of their son two years ago...

))((~~~~(())~~~~))((

Hami Ohed giggled as sand was piled on top of his skinny, tanned 4-year-old legs. He watched as some grains trickled down the sides of the pile, covering the spiral birthmark on his left foot.

"More, mommy!"

"More! Are you sure? Can you move your legs?" Mathra said, laughing.

"It's not high enough!"

"Yes it is! I don't think we can get it any higher, do you?"

"...Uh...I know! We need a stick!"

"A stick?"

"Yeah! So we can put a flag on it!" Of course. The stick. He always liked a stick pointing out of the top of the mound, and he called it a flag, even though it was simply a bare stick. Mathra didn't understand why just a plain old stick at the top satisfied him, but he would never leave the pile until there was a "flag" sticking upright at the pinnacle of the mountain.

"Oh! I forgot it! Let me go find one from the woodpile, ok?" Mathra quickly said, brushing off her tunic as she stood.

They were at the edge of their village, close to the border of the desert. Sharp, jagged black mountains pierced the sand and rose to the clear blue sky a mile or so away. On the other side rested the Hapke Jungle, which most of the villagers had never seen, only heard about. The mountain pass was too dangerous; it was constantly occupied by thieves.

Maruba Village consisted of about one hundred people, living in huts made from animal skins with wooden frames. Scraggly, flat-topped trees shaded the area, and a spring came up in the middle of the village. The Oheds lived on the side farthest from the mountains, close to the open desert. The ground was rough and rocky with tufts of long grass poking through here and there, so they liked to go a little farther out where the sand was clear.

As Mathra grabbed a small stick from their woodpile, there was a muffled scream in the distance behind her. She was almost out the gate before the twig hit the sand. When she reached the corner and could see straight down the road, she noticed in terror that the dune where Hami had been sitting was empty.

Maybe he fell down the other side, she thought to herself frantically as she dashed towards the hill. When she reached the top, all she could see was sand, sand and more sand.

"Hami!" Mathra cried, in hopes that he was somewhere nearby. She never found him. A couple weeks later, Gregor started his aberrant wanderings. After a long year had passed, Gregor continued the habit, and Hami had still not been found. A decision was made, and they held a funeral for him. All the while, her vision was blurred with tears. It was all her fault.

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Comments? Criticism?

Just make sure it's constructive, please.

You really have a talent for writing you know that? This story is really good, I'm interested in knowing what happened to their son. I hope people won't skip over this just because it isn't a Zelda story.

I really liked the story!! keep up the good job!

I hope you enjoy this. I spent a lot of time writing this today when I could've (and should've) been doing homework. Although, this is kind of for English class. Now I have my second portfolio writing done. As always, let me know what you think and if you spy any typos.

Chapter 2

Three weeks after Greg's strange nocturnal flight into the desert, Mathra was at her wit's end. She couldn't think straight and regularly poured hot Bongi berry tea in her lap while staring with glazed eyes through the tent flap. It had been pinned up so she could sit inside and still watch the span of desert, in case Gregor ever came back. She rarely tended the small garden on the other side of the great rock, and it soon withered, leaving a cluster of tangled brown weeds.

As for herself, she felt like she was withering as well. The hut was filling up with an empty feeling, as their old house had been when Hami disappeared, but this time there was no husband to comfort her. She hadn't seen her old friends since her birthday last year; they rarely visited. Usually she didn't think much about it, but now she was beginning to miss the company.

Mathra jumped as she heard a sharp rap on the pole, dropping her glass of water - glass was very common in the desert, since it contained a limitless supply of sand - to the ground as she spun around. A woman stood in her doorway, slightly bent so she could see into the tent. On her face was an expression of confusion and disbelief. Her shoulder-length blond hair was clean and neatly combed, and she was wearing a plain linen dress. Intricately woven sandal straps were visible crossing over her feet.

"Who are you?" Mathra said, breathing rapidly. The woman's eyes grew even more confused and she cautiously stepped into the tent, straightening to her full height: about five and a half feet.

"It's Rachel Thorn," the woman said tentatively. "Remember?"

Mathra cocked her head and took on Rachel's expression.

"We used to be friends," Rachel said quietly. Mathra's eyes opened wide and she hurried to pick up her glass and grab another from the cabinet.

"I'm sorry! Do you want some tea? I've got a fire ready. I haven't seen you in so long, I..." Mathra rambled on and Rachel remained standing next to the table.

"I'm fine, thanks. I just thought I'd come by, since it's your birthday and all. Where's Gregor?"

Mathra froze, bent over the cabinet with an empty glass in her hand. A strand of hair flopped in front of her eyes. It was her birthday? The mention threw her so off guard that she almost failed to notice Rachel's question. When she did, she burst into tears and fell to her knees, setting the glass on top of the cabinet but still grasping it with white knuckles.

))((~~~~(())~~~~))((

Rachel stood at the table, unsure of what to do. Mathra was her friend, but she was hardly recognizable. Her hair was tangled and dirty, and it smelled like she hadn't washed for weeks. Red, puffy skin surrounded her eyes, and streams of water ran down her cheeks.

"What's wrong, Mathra?" Rachel finally asked.

"Everything," came the reply in between sobs. "Gregor has been gone for three weeks."

Rachel's thin eyebrows crinkled. "Where?"

Mathra turned, ratty hair dangling over her face. "Don't you remember?" Rachel shook her head, and Mathra blinked, holding back her tears. "Gregor has been going into the desert for a few days at a time for two years now. Just...lately, he hasn't been coming back for a while. The last time he was here, he had been out in the desert for two weeks, and he only stayed half the night. Now he's been gone three weeks."

"What does he do out there?" Rachel asked, mystified.

"Don't ask me. I've tried to ask him before - " Mathra turned away and gave a few loud sobs.

"I'm sorry. Here, I'll take that. Go wash up, I'll make us some tea," Rachel said, careful not to upset Mathra again. When Mathra didn't respond, Rachel pulled the glass from her clenched hand and set it down on the table. Mathra still knelt there, not making a sound.

"Are you ok?" Rachel asked, waving a hand in front of Mathra's face. Her eyes were glazed over and stared into space as if Rachel weren't even there. Maybe a little water would help wake her up. Rachel dragged her over to the spring and set her upright against the wall underneath the water.

Mathra remained sitting there, fully dressed, her eyes closed, letting the water splash on her head and trickle down her body. She needed her clothes washed, anyway. Rachel promptly got to work finding the Bongi tea leaves and a metal pot. After filling it with water above Mathra's head, she stepped outside to use the fire pit she had seen earlier.

Maybe her gift would cheer Mathra up. She took out the polished topaz amulet she had bought from a trader from the Hapke Jungle and looked deep into it. It was rare that anyone came through the mountains, especially with such precious ware; the mountains were dripping with thieves. Surprisingly, she had gotten it for a cheap price: only fifty coins. Even more surprisingly, after taking it to the village jeweler, he told her it was, in fact, real.

The deep yellowish stone glistened and twinkled in the sunlight. She couldn't imagine how someone could sell such a thing for such a cheap price. He couldn't possibly have been trying to get rid of it, but no other explanation came to her mind. She shook her head and got to work making the tea. Before too long, Mathra came outside, looking more awake than before.

"What was I doing in the spring?" Mathra asked, wet sand clinging to her feet as she gingerly walked toward Rachel.

"I put you there to wake you up. Now that you're all right, why don't you go wash up while the tea cools?" Rachel poured the hot water through a strainer into two glasses. "I'll show you your birthday present while we drink."

"Rachel Marianne Thorn," Mathra said teasingly. "Then you'll watch for Gregor? I don't want to miss him if he passes by."

"...Of course," Rachel replied, caught off guard by the question. Did she really think Greg was coming back?

))((~~~~(())~~~~))((

"Where is that miscreant?"

"Stop hiding, you coward!"

These were the shouts heard filling the Maruba village market. An angry mob of villagers swarmed through the bustling crossroad. Word on the streets had gotten out that a merchant from the jungle had been selling cursed trinkets at a cheap price...without mentioning the whole cursed part, of course.

The jewelry had already caused two women to die, burned from the inside out. Still more were developing warts all over their bodies, and some had even mysteriously disappeared. Unfortunately, the merchant had also disappeared, and now the angry villagers were searching the whole town for him.

Marco Thorn strode in between the rickety buildings, an iron hammer hanging ready at his side. There was always a chance that the merchant had left the village already, but there was an equal chance he was still here, hiding. That's why they were combing the streets for him. Unfortunately, they hadn't had any luck yet.

The description of the man rung through his head with every throb of his heart. Darker-skinned than most of the village, short, old, and wearing strange red, green and yellow feathery clothing. Eyes that glistened pale blue like moon pearls, crooked yellow teeth, a wide and flat nose. The grotesque images flashed through Marco's mind over and over.

The wind was picking up, and Marco's knee-length rust-colored tunic rippled in the breeze. Clouds of sand swirled around his feet, and he had to shield his eyes from the tiny particles flying at him. Before he knew it, he was standing at the edge of the village farthest from the mountains. He squinted into the haze and saw a strange silhouette at the top of the nearest sand dune.

It looked like a huge bird sitting atop the hill, but upon further inspection, it proved to actually be a short man covered in large feathers. The merchant turned his head and the cloudy, gray eyes seemed to pierce into Marco's very soul. They had no pupils.

Marco's throat swelled and he dropped to his knees, gagging. The wind turned into a gale, and grains of sand attacked his body like raining needles. Blackness was choking his vision, and he was about to faint when all of a sudden, the wind stopped dead. The sky was perfectly clear, as if there had been no sandstorm. The bizarre merchant was gone.

Upon arriving home, he noticed a note scribbled on a piece of paper lying on the desk.

"Gone to Mathra and Gregor's house. Be back soon. I love you! -Rachel"

That's right, he thought. It's Mathra's birthday today, isn't it? I haven’t seen them in a while. I wonder if they'd mind if I dropped by? Besides, I need something to take my mind off this whole thing.

Beside the note lay a receipt etched on a small stone slate. A topaz necklace for fifty coins? Was that even - he froze in place. Was it even possible? Either Rachel had bought one for herself, or...

Horror crept into Marco's face. Was she planning on giving it to Mathra as a gift? She had probably left before the discovery about the merchant had been made. He was already out the door. If only he could reach the couple's house in time...

oh my spontaneous combustion? - what a way to go. I like your characters they have a nice realistic quality to them. Is good work I'll be looking forward to reading more

Originally Posted by Hylian Lemon

Mathra jumped as she heard a sharp rap on the pole, dropping her glass of water - glass was very common in the desert, since it contained a limitless supply of sand - to the ground as she spun around.

Huh? I don't understand that part. What does it mean? Other than that, I see no problems. I love this story! Also, I think I've figured out what's going on. I think. Some clues give it away, but I'm not entirely sure. I think that

Spoiler (Highlight to read):

---

Gregor goes out to search for Hami, who's been kidnapped by the theives.

---

Also, the swirl birthmark is making me curious...

Originally Posted by Triforcer

Huh? I don't understand that part. What does it mean? Other than that, I see no problems. I love this story! Also, I think I've figured out what's going on. I think. Some clues give it away, but I'm not entirely sure. I think that

Spoiler (Highlight to read):

---

Gregor goes out to search for Hami, who's been kidnapped by the theives.

---

Also, the swirl birthmark is making me curious...

Are you talking about this line in particular? 'glass was very common in the desert, since it contained a limitless supply of sand'? Glass is made from sand...but if you weren't on about that just ignore me.

I forgot you were writing this story HL, I'll be sure to carry on reading it tomorrow.

Originally Posted by Emerald Ocarina

Are you talking about this line in particular? 'glass was very common in the desert, since it contained a limitless supply of sand'? Glass is made from sand...but if you weren't on about that just ignore me.

Ahh, thanks. I wasn't thinking of that. I think I'm trying to comprehend too much...But yeah, that's pretty much what I meant.

So here I am, searching the writing forum, and I see Hylian Lemon post that isn't in Pearl of Darkness. Oh, man is this story great. I haven't been so engrossed in a non-Zelda story since Path of The Jedi. I love this, keep it up!