The Attendant

This is a bite-sized bit of fanfiction inspired by The Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. All LoZ things in this piece belong to Nintendo. This was written merely for fun because I love Medli and Dragonroost Island.

A gurgling screech tore through the soft lavenders of the morning sky. The dark stone walls shook, brown and grey pebbles trickling down from the walls and ceiling like raindrops. One mischievous stone pelted Medli in the forehead, and then slid to innocently rest on the end of her beak. She sighed and shook it off.

There goes my meditation. She stood and stretched her wings as the screeching outside matured into a roar. The ruckus had upset the kargaroks that nested high above the windows of the attendant’s bedchamber.

My bedchamber, she reminded herself. Though the room still smelled and held hints of Kesane:

The arrangement of papers, the inkwell, and the reed pens on a desk carved from the stone of the mountain.

The prayer mat, worn and frayed from use, smudges of dusty feet imprinted at the back edge.

The bed, so tall and long for Medli’s small frame, smelled of the chief mother’s favorite perfume of crushed bomb flower petals — smoky, crisp, spiced.

Kesane had been her mentor until a fortnight ago when she passed into the spirit realm. The funeral pyre still burned high in Medli’s mind, her eyes ached with the permanent sense of tears. Prince Komali, her grandson, had wailed long into the night. That night was the last time the boy had been seen outside of his room. Kesane had been a kind, strong woman — a model to all young Rito, with Medli and Komali her star pupils. Now, with Kesane’s spirit gone to the Wind God, Medli was all Komali — and Valoo — had left.

Medli heard the impatient drones of the ill-tempered kargaroks as they flew in circles above the island. They would wait until the Great Valoo’s ragings subsided before returning to their nests. They had grown bolder since the first shakings and the sealing of the Temple, nestling closer to the Rito dwellings than ever before. And these were not the only creatures to have materialized in the wake of the Dragon’s rage. Scouts had flown around the Mountain, as close to Valoo as they dared, and they reported sightings of bokoblins: those cruel, thieving pirates with their watchtowers infesting the Great Sea. Quill, one of the Post Flyers, had told her about them before, how he had narrowly escaped their bombs, spears, and arrows as he flew over their towers on his mail runs.

Medli and her people were not warriors. They prayed for days, without stop, for Valoo’s anger to soften and quell, and for these monsters to disappear. But the Chieftain, Komali’s father, was too proud to signal for help. Medli had tested her mettle — her newly bestowed ‘attendant’ title — against his obstinance many times in the past few days. But Medli was not Kesane. She was not the Chieftain’s mother or anyone remotely relative to her leader. She was just a young girl, an orphaned fledgling, who pushed herself to learn the Great Valoo’s language and had, for some reason, garnered the love of Attendant Kesane. The Chieftain’s final rebuke had come in the form of his advisors, the twins Molle and Jolle, last night.

The Chieftain respects your word, both as the Attendant to the Great Valoo and the tutor of Prince Komali.

But he has spoken: while the Great Valoo is unavailable, there is no need for the Attendant. You are, for now, a tutor — nothing more. Medli had asked to speak with the Chieftain herself, but the twins responded by handing her an envelope with the king’s Eagle Claw seal. She did not open it. She knew what it would say: Dragon’s Roost would be returning to business as usual, aside from the occasional rumblings and roars, and the Rito’s constant absence of faith in their God.

Her room shook, again, and she steadied herself against her bed, gripping the thin but heavy covering that depicted a triumphant Valoo seated atop his Roost. Her bones rattled as the Dragon, her Sacred and now unapproachable Ward, pounded the mountain with his claws. Medli wondered if the rhythm could teach her something; if Valoo spoke a secret language with his fists. She had learned his spoken language, hadn’t she? If she could just learn to understand him, now, she could find out what had so angered the Deity of her people.

Medli sighed, clutching her Attendant vestment in her hands.

‘Only a tutor.’ Well, then. I should stop dawdling. Komali would be ready for his morning lessons by now. Medli tied back her hair, smoothed down her Attendant robe, and left the room.

Any anxiety that may have been present in the main chamber of the Roost was drowned out by the steady hum of the daily hustle. The Post Flyers stood in line at the Sorting Booth, waiting to load their satchels. Phrases filtered through the mass into Medli’s ears —

“All calm on the Great Sea, today.”

“Fleet-feather to you, brother.”

“My left wing still isn’t right since that twister.”

“Have you made peace at the Wind Shrine, Kosei? Have you played the hymn?”

“My wife won’t let me take our harp since I snapped one of the strings. Besides, the altar is broken and it feels… ill these days.”

“True. And the Great Valoo watches over us.”

“Y-yes…”

Medli pushed through the bustle as politely as she could, trying not to notice the tense glances being shot her way. She wondered if the Chieftain’s ire at her had spread through the Roost so quickly.

Quill caught her eye as he left the Sorting Booth, flipping through the letters in his satchel before tightening and securing the pack on his hip. He did not speak, but smiled at her warmly and bowed his head. He lifted off from the floor of the main chamber, his wide and powerful wings buffeting all around him. He ascended and flew out of one of the many open windows cut into the mountain walls, the one pointing to the southwest.

Outset Island, she thought. One of Quill’s assigned communities. An island all the way to the south of the known world, populated only by a small village and an old forest. So much Sea to cover, and so many dangers from here to there. Medli wished her wings were that strong. She could take to the air and fly above all these dissenting faces and straight to the long, dark hall that led to the Prince’s room. Alas, her wings were another mark of her ‘unreadiness,’ her ‘lacking.’ Kesane had led her to the top of the mountain, weeks before her death. She had communed with the Great Valoo for Medli’s Scale and yet, even now, Medli’s wings had not yet fully developed.

In time, young Rito, Kesane had said. Some flowers blossom later than others. Medli wondered if her mentor had mistaken a weed for a legitimate bloom. She made it to the entrance of the hall leading to the Prince’s room, where a guard named Atche stood watch. All sconces along the walls remained snuffed out, as they had been since Kesane’s funeral. As she drew nearer, Atche huffed through his beak and blocked the hall with his spear, the curved blade hanging over Medli’s head.

“Morning, brother,” she said. The edges of Atche’s mouth curled into a deeper scowl, his eyes darkening upon her.

“Prince Komali isn’t feeling well. Sister.” She cocked her head at him.

“He has not been feeling well for weeks, and understandably so,” she said. “But he has still been able to study.”

“Not today.” Medli puffed out her chest, the feathers on her arms bristling. She stood up as tall as she could.

“Please let me check on him, brother,” she said, trying not to grind her beak in her anger. Atche kept his spear in front of the threshold and turned his gaze away from her. Her mind flashed with options. She could kick Atche in his knees and run down the hall, but the only real viable alternative was turning back around. Her skin grew hot with embarrassment as Atche continued to ignore her.

I can leave the Mountain and practice my flying on the beach. I could try to fly to the Wind Shrine and then scream into the open air… She nearly turned on her heel but then saw the Chieftain emerging from the dark of the hall with Molle and Jolle in tow, his mouth in a grimace and the corners of his eyes wet. His gaze fell on Medli and she heard him let out a great sigh. He placed a hand on Atche’s spear and pushed it out of his way, gently. Atche pulled it back quickly, spluttering a stream of apologies. The Chieftain ignored him.

“Medli,” he said. She bent at the waist to bow low.

“Good morning, sir,” she said. “The Prince is not feeling well, I heard. Shall I suspend his studies for today?” After a moment of silence, she rose from her bow. The Chieftain stared at her, thinking. Molle and Jolle exchanged a nearly imperceptible glance with each other before they both quietly cleared their throats. The Chieftain closed his eyes and bowed his head.

“Atche,” he said. “Let the girl through.” He then waved his hand at Molle and Jolle and walked past Medli into the main chamber.

Girl. The feathers of her shoulders and back rankled. Atche jerked his head in the direction of Komali’s room, which Medli supposed was his gracious allowance of her passage. She passed him quickly and, in the safety of the cool darkness, she inhaled deeply. She steadied her breath and her Self, or she tried to. Komali’s bedroom door loomed in front of her. Even in the dark, she could make out the image of the Great Valoo’s bright gnashing jaws. She knocked on the door.

“Komali,” she called softly. No answer, as usual. She pressed the door open and found the small prince huddled on his bed, his arms and legs curled around Din’s Pearl, its brilliant orange glow illuminating his tear-stained face. His huge, sad eyes peeked at her, his mouth resting against the Pearl’s marbly surface.

“Spending the morning with Din, Prince?” she asked, not unkindly. He nodded, hugging it closer. The ancient artifact was nearly as big as himself. The Rito historically assigned the preservation of the Pearl to the Attendants. But Medli did not have the desire or heart to ask for it back from Komali, now. She pulled the small stool left in the corner of the room and set it across from the Prince’s bed. “What if we start there, today? The story of the Three Goddesses and how they made the Earth?” Komali lifted his head and, with a tiny grin that lifted Medli’s heart, he nodded with more enthusiasm.

Only a tutor, for now. I’ll take it.

“Let’s begin.”