A Monster's Skin

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Warning: A bit of gory thoughts about healing infections in the first part of this chapter

James Birdsong: Thanks! Nice to hear from you again!

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It wasn't long before Link's screams of agony once again tore through the Lost Woods. His face was white as snow, his eyes open but unseeing, every muscle in his body rigid and trembling. Vines wrapped around his arms, chest, legs, and even neck (not too tightly), keeping him still as the Stalfos worked. Three braced him, helping the vines hold him down; the other two worked with wickedly sharp knives, cutting away the infected skin around the wound over his stomach.

The Great Deku Tree had considered using maggots to eat away the rotting flesh and disinfect the wound, but his dear little Koroks didn't have hands to gather them or knowledge on how to clean them. And he felt it was too cruel, to tedious, a task to give to the Stalfos and Skull Kids.

And Link didn't exactly have time to wait for them to gather all of those maggots, anyway.

So, instead, the Great Deku Tree ordered the Stalfos to do what they could not wait for maggots to do: get rid of the infected flesh, clean the wound thoroughly with hot saltwater to discourage a second infection, and stitch it closed. The Koroks could take care of the rest without getting traumatized; he was sure of it.

It hurt his soul, hearing Link's anguished cries and knowing what had brought him to such a state. These were frightening, suspicious times… and the deceptions of the Yiga Clan did nothing to foster trust and acceptance even of normal travellers, let alone one wearing a monster's skin.

Link had been incredibly foolish to want to disguise himself as a monster, no matter how merciful his intentions. But, then again, it wasn't entirely his fault. The monstrologist, Kilton… another example of good intentions gone wrong.

Although… even he, the Great Deku Tree, very nearly omnipotent (when he chose to be), did not know how Kilton intended to apply his research. He could think of many possibilities, both foul-minded and innocent. The man is a mystery.

He turned his attention back to Link. The Stalfos had finally finished their gruesome task, and he bid them to leave. The Koroks piled inside the instant they were gone, carrying impressive bundles of leaves and herbs and swarming around the hero's bedside, washing the blood from his torso and the grit and mud from the rest of his body, placing compresses of herbs over his various wounds and bruises and a cloth damp with cold water over his fevered brow. They whispered anxiously as they worked, and the Great Deku Tree noticed one of them gently patting the top of Link's head in comfort. It was incredibly touching how much they cared.

But then, the hero's life has been closely connected with the forest, and specifically the forest spirits, for thousands of years…

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Everything was dark and blurred and horrible for the longest time. I felt searing pain spreading from my stomach and jolting to the rest of my body. I felt cold and hot and cold all at once, which sent nausea tearing through my innards, although I wasn't cognizant enough to know if I vomited or not.

Occasionally I was aware of color, mostly green, but I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or half-awake. I was mostly certain that at least part of it was a dream, but at the moment it felt pretty real; probably because of all the green around me, I thought I'd been turned into some sort of leafy lettuce monster. Vegetarian Gorons armed with forks, cheese, tomatoes, and other things to go with salad were chasing me no matter how I protested. As soon as they caught me they went right for my face.

It wasn't a pleasant dream at all. But it was ludicrous enough that I was pretty sure it was a dream, and I was just aware enough that I thought I might laugh about it later, if I ever woke up for real.

But when I finally did open my eyes to find myself more aware of my surroundings than ever before, my mind felt as if it had been stuffed with thick mist. I could see the strange wooden cave around me, a little bit like the inside of a log; my vision was clear enough to make out the details of the swirling grains. A few strange lamps that looked like beans cast gentle golden light around me, flickering slightly but not like candles - more like fireflies.

I was surrounded by leaves - hence the Goron vegetarian nightmare, I supposed. Somehow, someone had crafted a blanket - several, actually - out of greenery. The one on the bottom of the pile, touching my skin, was surprisingly soft. I don't think I had known that leaves could be soft.

Beyond that, faces made of leaves surrounded me. Or, well, they looked more like masks, worn by strange little creatures with bodies like ginger roots. I recognized them, but at first I couldn't remember what they were called.

Then one of them squealed and hopped up and down. "Mr. Hero!" it cried out with delight, and the others instantly began to stir. Just like that, a word popped into my head, one that I knew described these creatures: Korok.

"You're awake!" one of them chirped, waggling its arms happily. "How do you feel? Are you alright?"

They crowded close around me, echoing the questions, calling me 'Mr. Hero,' dancing or hopping in place in absolute ecstasy.

It was adorable, but truth be told, they were also freaking me out just the tiniest bit. And my head was starting to pound.

"Hey, hey, hey!" A new voice joined the others, and pushing above the crowd was a red mushroom. As it neared, I could see that the mushroom was sprouting from a taller Korok's head. "Calm down! Let him breathe!"

"He's not breathing?" a Korok asked in horror, instantly taking a step back. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hero! Can you breathe now?"

I managed a small smile. I could remember a deep fondness for these little forest spirits - their innocence, their sense of wonder…

"Back off!" the mushroomed Korok insisted, waving his arms frantically at his companions, and the rest of the Koroks took several steps back. The throbbing in my temples began to ease. "Mr. Hero, can you talk? How do you feel?"

I didn't want to hurt their feelings. "Much… better," I whispered slowly. My mind felt more awake, but it seemed my tongue still wanted to sleep. "What… happened?"

The Koroks shuddered collectively, like a miniature forest caught in a windstorm. "We don't know," squeaked the first Korok that had spoken. "We heard you scream, and then we went to see what happened, and then we saw you with the Master Sword and you were really, really sick!"

"Not with the Master Sword," the Korok with the mushroom added apologetically. "More like… like you fell down next to it!"

"Exactly!" the first Korok agreed.

My mouth went dry. I remembered that now - or at least, I remembered parts of it. I'd been so out of it by then that everything was a haze, indistinguishable from dreams. I could understand why my mind had blocked that 'dream' and replaced it with the lettuce one.

I had been hallucinating, following a tiny fairy through the Lost Woods, but I guess somehow I'd actually made it. Or maybe the fairy hadn't been a hallucination. If it wasn't, then maybe the floating blue lady was the hallucination.

My mind was a mess at that point, if the fact wasn't clear enough already.

Eventually I found myself in front of the Master Sword. I didn't try to draw it - how could I draw a sword embedded vertically in the ground while barely able to hold myself up on hands and knees? And I was confused and distracted enough by intense pain and discomfort that I don't think I could quite grasp that I was supposed to try and draw a sword from the ground when embedded like this. All I knew was that this weapon could help me.

I saw the blue lady again; she spoke to me, maybe, but I didn't remember a single word she said. She was probably trying to help.

As she spoke, I felt an overwhelming desire to touch the sword. It felt like it was a part of me - which I guess it was, a hundred years ago.

I didn't have the strength to raise one hand from the ground, so instead I slid my hands and knees along the ground, slowly pulling myself closer, until I could rest my forehead against the blade.

The pain was immediate and unforgiving. I might've screamed; I don't remember. It was worse than anything I'd ever felt - claws raking through my very soul, tearing at my skin, squeezing my heart…

It cleansed me, but with a price. After that one terrible moment of agony, I lost consciousness. And as muddled and confusing as everything was before, it was even more so afterwards, to the point where I couldn't make sense of anything whatsoever and my mind had to resort to vegetarian Gorons.

"Mr. Hero? Mr. Hero, are you okay?"

The Koroks were staring at me, and although their masks didn't do much to convey expression, I could sense their concern.

"I'm much better than I was," I told them truthfully. My body didn't hurt half as badly, my stomach wound didn't burn, and my mind and muscles felt groggy but well-rested.

"Then go get the sword!" one of them - a smaller one - cheered, hopping up and down.

"That way if this happens again, you won't have to come find us, because you can use the sword to get rid of the evil," another added excitedly. His posture drooped slightly. "But I hope you visit us anyways, lots and lots and lots of times!"

"Get the sword!" another Korok exclaimed, and the others quickly joined in, clamoring for me to get out of bed and claim the Master Sword. I raised my hands, trying to calm them.

"I'll get the sword when I feel a little better," I mumbled, and a chorus of "awwww"s greeted my response. I inhaled deeply, closed my eyes, and was asleep again before I had time to think about it.

The little guys were nothing if not adorably persistent, and the next day they managed to convince me to make my way to the Master Sword again.

"It doesn't test physical strength," the mushroom Korok, Chio, had assured me. "It looks on the inside!"

"That means the heart," the small one added. Oaki.

Which was just as well, since as I stood up for the first time in only the Goddesses knew how many days (Koroks couldn't count very well) my vision clouded over and my knees buckled. I would have fallen for sure if not for the sea of Koroks holding me up on every side.

My body was painfully weak and I was starving; my limbs trembled as I dragged my feet forward but the Koroks were too excited about what I was doing to let me fall.

I felt a slight tug in my chest when my gaze rested upon the Master Sword. All at once a hush went over the forest and the forest spirits surrounding me. With my next step forward they didn't follow, and this time I didn't want them to. This was something I needed to do on my own.

"I see you decided to return," a deep voice like creaking timbers resonated through the woods and I whirled around with a startled gasp. Blood fled from my cheeks; the massive tree that the Koroks had placed me within had a face - brows, a mouth and nose, and - and even a moustache.

I knew I should have been feeling more awed or shocked or terrified that the giant tree I'd been recovering in had a face and could talk, but… I wasn't. And, as with most things I'd come across that logically should have frightened or disturbed me in some way, I took that to mean that I'd met this tree somewhere before.

Probably when I drew the Master Sword the first time.

"Your… er, the Koroks… I mean - I had some help making that decision," I finished all in a rush, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

The tree chuckled. "You are a legend brought to life among them, young one. When you arrived here… well, after a hundred years, we had nearly given up hope on seeing you again. And then to have you with us once more, but so near death… It was quite the ordeal."

"I'm sorry I put you through that," I murmured, dropping my gaze. "But… thank you, er…" I tried to act like I was trying to remember the tree's name, or title, or anything, hoping that he would notice and fill in the gaps.

"I am the Deku Tree," the tree obliged. "I have watched over Hyrule since time immemorial."

"Then, I thank you, Deku Tree, and I thank the Koroks as well, for saving me," I said gravely, bowing. It felt like the right thing to do; giant talking trees deserved respect, right?

"My children would be devastated by your death," the tree rumbled. "They have already been through that once already; I would not presume to see them go through it again. And… for that same reason, I offer you now a warning.

"The Master Sword stands as a test to anyone who would dare attempt to possess it. As you are now, I cannot say whether you are worthy or not. If you sought to free the sword in any sort of weakened state, you would surely loose your life where you stand. For my children's sake, I will stop you from finishing the task should you be unworthy, this time and this time only. Best of luck, young one."

I gulped. Any sort of weakness, eh? I hope you're right, Chio…

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, placed my hands around the Master Sword's hilt, and pulled.

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Volcon thought he was good at sitting still, but at the moment, he couldn't keep himself from fidgeting.

The entire village had gathered and watched anxiously as Boss Bludo and the Sheikah painter Pikango fiddled with the mysterious 'Sheikah Slate.' A very heavy silence had fallen over them - heavy and uncomfortable, hence the fidgeting.

"Y'sure this thing works?" Bludo asked finally, holding up the Sheikah Slate and examining it from every angle. "Makes lotsa colorful lights'n all, but I don't see nothin' that could help with Rudania."

Pikango gulped loudly. "Well, er… I actually may not be the best reference for this," he muttered under his breath, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm an artist, not a scientist…"

"An' you're tellin' me only now?" Bludo gaped. "After we spent hours workin' on this thing?"

"Maybe I can help," a new voice chimed in, frighteningly familiar, and Volcon just about jumped out of his skin.

But the newcomer was not a charcoal-skinned, red-eyed, fanged monster. He was just a normal Hylian, with normal-looking blue eyes and no fangs, wearing bulky armor meant to protect the wearer from the volcano's heat along with a heroic-looking sword on his back. Volcon relaxed slightly.

"Link!" Pikango slumped in relief and hurried over to him. "You're alright! Er, you… you are alright, aren't you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" the young man asked with a small grin.

"Well, er… the mask," the Sheikah painter said in a hushed theatrical whisper that carried to everyone. "That you said… turned you into a monster."

"Ohhh…" Link nodded slowly, his eyes distant. "You're talking about that thing with the red eyes and creepy face, right?"

The looks of lingering fear and uncertainty floating across the villagers was answer enough. Volcon felt a stirring of hope. Maybe it really was a monster. Maybe I didn't really hurt an innocent kid! He'd felt terrible about it for weeks, ever since Pikango had first brought up the possibility that the strange creature was actually a Hylian. On the off chance that it really was just some kid, who'd already gone through a tough time from the looks of it, then he, Volcon, had only made it much, much, worse.

"That thing is dead," Link said. "I… killed it."

A hushed murmur echoed among the crowd of Gorons. Volcon was feeling better and better, but also more and more confused.

"What was it?" Pikango asked solemnly. "It looked a bit like you - it even sounded like you and knew who you were!"

"It was just another one of the Calamity's creations," Link said with a shrug. "Probably trained by the Yiga or something - the Yiga have been following me since I woke up; they know everything I do."

"Well, we have your Sheikah Slate thingy," Bludo growled, holding up the ancient tablet. "Tryin' to figure out how to use it on Rudania…"

"Thanks!" Link exclaimed, rushing forward. "I think I accidentally forgot it in a stable or something… thanks for keeping it safe!"

It was the final little grain of proof Volcon needed. At last his conscience felt clear. I didn't hurt him! It really was a monster, and I really did do my brothers a service by keepin' 'em safe! He grinned widely, feeling lighter than he'd felt in weeks.

He would be able to sleep soundly now, confident in the knowledge that he'd done the right thing.

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I couldn't stop smiling as I made my way towards the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab with materials for Robbie. Other travellers looked at me funny, as if I'd grown an extra eye, but I didn't notice much. I couldn't dispel this wonderful feeling inside of me.

A part of me had been resentful towards the Gorons. Looking at the facts, I'd almost died because of them. And it wouldn't have been a nice, merciful death, either. It would have been slow and painful. In fact, it was slow and painful, but thanks to the Koroks I didn't actually die at the end.

So there was that part of me that wanted revenge. I could imagine myself walking into town, finally with evidence that proved I had been telling the truth (namely my memories of what had happened, and my now monster-free appearance), and letting them know exactly how much they had hurt me.

But when I considered that, I could also see in my mind's eye the Gorons' downcast faces. Their horror and regret and guilt. And I reminded myself that in their eyes, I had seemed no better than a moblin or bokoblin that learned to talk. Perhaps even worse - I had been wearing more sophisticated clothes than just a simple loincloth, so maybe they thought that in addition to being a monster and having the traits that go along with that, I was also intelligent. And cunning and monsters together didn't mean anything good for the rest of the world.

So it wasn't really their fault, and I told myself this over and over and over again on my journey from the Lost Woods to Goron City. By the time I arrived, I didn't have the heart to make them feel bad about what happened. I made up a story about meeting an evil shadow of myself created by Ganon, and they believed it. I could almost see the burden lifted from their shoulders as the guilt and remorse for what had happened faded away, and I realized that it was so much better that way.

Sometimes, it's much better to let things go.

The Gorons' relief had been contagious. The desire for revenge lifted from my soul, leaving me feeling just as light and happy as they were. It was a feeling that had lasted all through the battle to free Vah Rudania, all through the hike down the mountain, and so far, all through the journey through Akkala.

I was in such a good mood, in fact, glorifying in the simple pleasures of being alive and healthy and surrounded by green and growing things, that I decided I might as well check on Kilton.

"So, uh… the mask didn't work," I explained awkwardly.

He looked perplexed. "It… didn't turn you into a monster?"

"Well, it did, but monsters didn't think I was a monster." Which defeats the whole point.

I was stunned by Kilton's response. "Then it did work!" he cheered. "It's supposed to give us the terrible experience we put monsters through, so that we can all have more empathy for the difficult lives they live!"

My jaw dropped. "What?" I was almost killed by that mask!

Which… which I guess really was the point.

Kilton tsk-tsked. "Don't you feel so bad for them now? Knowing what they go through each and every day…" He shook his head sadly.

My good mood was fading. "Kilton, I wanted something that would disguise me as a monster among monsters. That way I won't have to kill as many!"

"Oh, you're in luck, then!" he beamed. "I finished my bokoblin mask! And, er, since it looks like the Dark mask wasn't, uh, to your liking, I'll give this to you free!"

As much as I liked the idea of getting something for free (I think I had, at the moment, maybe ten rupees on me), the last thing I'd gotten for free from Kilton hadn't turned out too well. "And it'll convince the bokoblins I'm one of them?"

Kilton nodded eagerly. "I tested it myself, and it was amazing! I got to see the bokoblin feast dance firsthand! And they accepted me as one of their own and initiated me into their band!" He clapped his hands giddily, grinning from ear to ear. "It works, I promise!"

Still I hesitated. Then Kilton pulled out the mask, and I relaxed slightly. It wasn't like the other one, which went right up against my skin. It was… it was more like the top piece of a child's costume, shaped like a bokoblin's head, with button eyes and the usual leaf-shaped ears and gaping jaws that I would peer out of. "Well…" I sighed heavily, scratching the back of my head. "I guess I'll try it out."

Kilton leapt up with a cheer of delight, pushing the mask towards me. "You'll love it! I guarantee it!"

I chuckled halfheartedly, taking the mask into my hands and studying it, unaware of the growing light of dawn in the sky above me. Maybe this time it's real, I thought. And this time he actually tried it out first…

Holding my breath, I stuffed my head into the hole at the bottom. A sudden flare of pain across my body and a thrill of horror piercing my soul as I staggered backwards and fell onto my back. My pulse raced. No. Oh, no. Goddesses, please, no!

With a groan I rolled onto my stomach and crawled to the edge of the little island and peered back at my reflection. My eyes went wide.

"Kilton!"

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Thank you all for joining me on this one, and for all the favorites and follows! Thanks goes especially to Riyazura, AriTheDoggo, James Birdsong, Waterwomen1414, Don'ttellybrotherIwrotethis, and Linz2 for the reviews! I really enjoyed hearing your thoughts about this! Thank you all for the support!

The big project I've been working on should start coming out in a week or so; I'll post one chapter each week (occasionally maybe two if I'm feeling generous). It's called "Rifts Between Us," and I'm super excited to share it with you, so just a heads up!

Thank you all again!