Meanwhile, Saria walked through the wall of light and immediately found herself upon a narrow path. On either side, there was an interminable drop into nothingness. She walked slowly into the darkness of which she could see nothing save for the path she walked upon. Suddenly, she was in a desert. Confused, she turned around and looked back. The path behind her had disappeared into a sand dune. Walking back, she felt the sand dune; it was real and burned under her skin. All around, it looked hot and the heat rose from the sand as the sun toasted the ground. Saria, however, could not feel the direct heat. The path ahead of her led straight through the desert. There was no other path so she followed. Up ahead, she saw a figure lying on the sand. She approached and saw that it was a handsome man lying naked, face down, on the scorching sand. His skin was dark and sweat beaded lightly upon it. The man looked up as Saria approached and remarked with a smile, “It is a rather nice day, is it not? Care to join me? The sun is superb.” He propped himself up and extended a hand, revealing the length of flesh between his legs.
“Are you not thirsty?” Saria asked, surprised by the pleasantness of this man. She felt drawn to him but resisted. Jorli, my parents, the Keeper. She needed to continue with her mission.
“Quite the contrary! Sure you wouldn’t like to join me?” Saria contemplated. Something drew her to this man. She wanted to feel him and as she lifted her hand towards him, she caught a flicker of light. In the Eye of Fire, she glimpsed Jorli pacing the room, wiping away a tear that she tried to hide with her paw.
“Thank you but I should get going.” And she kept walking, wondering what was this all about. How far away that world seemed now…
She walked a little further when the desert transformed into a place of eternal fires. Nothing but fire everywhere she looked, save for her narrow path. She saw a man walking through, his clothes burning and his skin charred. Saria looked with horrified eyes as the man was slowly becoming disfigured by the fire. As disgusted and terrified as she was, she stammered, “Are you thirsty?” The man turned, looked at her and screamed so loudly, she nearly dropped her goblet. He ran off, his screams dying in the distance. Saria started crying and kept her feet to the path. She forced herself to walk, unable to believe what she had just seen. Her tears were still streaming when the surroundings transformed around her and it was a scene that was completely unexpected: water.
She turned to look at her feet; the path was still there. ‘This water is not real then,’ she thought and extended her arm. She nearly stepped off the path when she felt the cool sensation of water on her arm and even more surprised to see her arm completely wet and dripping. She reached up over her head and her hand was completely immersed in water. She looked at her hand, completely astonished. There were fish of all sorts swimming around her. Suddenly, she saw a strange-looking fish swimming slowly around her. It looked shriveled and dry like a root.
“Is that water you’ve got there? Would you mind giving me a sip?” it asked her.
“But that’s completely ridiculous!” exclaimed Saria. “You are in water!”
“Just a sip,” it said as it swam weakly. “Please…water…” The tone of its voice drove her to feel pity.
“But you must be in water. I just checked…” She stopped. Her hand drove through the water but around this fish, there was none and all she felt was its dry skin.
“Please…”
“I’m trying!” she said desperately as she tried to scoop water from one side to another. The water would fill her hand but would dry out as soon as it reached the fish. Suddenly, it started to shrivel in front of her.
“Help…me…” The combination of that voice, the image of the fish shriveling, its pleading was making Saria desperate when she looked and saw that she still had the cup of water in her hand.
“What am I doing with this?” she said to herself when she remembered the riddle: water you must carry without a drop on the floor.
“Wait a minute…” she looked at the goblet. Without a drop on the floor. She raised the glass to her own lips and drank the contents. As she did, the fish started to inflate and flesh out.
“You may pass,” it said and a door appeared in front of her. She opened the door and found a small room, similar to the one she left her friends in, with a narrower staircase leading upstairs on the right. She ran quickly up the steps.
At the top of the stairs, Saria found a smaller room with a door and another silver plaque on the floor.
“Hopefully the last,” she said to herself. The inscription read:
what has not been taken
must be freely given
“What is that supposed to mean?” she exclaimed. There was nothing else in the room so she opened the door. The room inside was fairly large and at its center stood a bier. Something lay on top of it. Something that she felt she did not want to see. Before she could turn and run out of the room, however, the door closed behind her and disappeared into the wall. Saria was frightened but she had come this far and knew she had to continue. She slowly approached the bier and realized that a white cloth was draped over it. It clearly was a body in shape. With a shaking hand, she slowly lifted the cloth off the face. It was a man. She dropped the cloth unintentionally from fright but she was intrigued by his face. It was a handsome face with long hair lying limply around him.
This was the Warlock of the Wind.
Slowly pulling the cloth further back, she realized that his chest was bare. She looked underneath the cloth; he was completely naked. She stepped back in shock. What was she supposed to do? She pressed a point in his arm lightly. It was definitely flesh so he couldn’t be dead. He could not possibly have been this well-kept if he were. Gingerly, she placed her ear on his heart. But her own heart was beating so loudly that she couldn’t tell if he were alive or not.
“What has not been taken must be freely given…” she said softly. “What has not been taken? And how could it be given away if it was not taken in the first place?” Her fingers brushed lightly over his chest, distracted by the riddle.
The Warlock sighed softly.
Saria jerked her hand back and saw him breathe for a moment then stop.
“Wait! Wait!” she cried. “Wake up! Can you hear me?”
The Warlock said nothing and his breathing stopped. Saria was confused so she repeated her action and he started breathing again.
“So I’m supposed to rub him awake?” she asked herself. She looked down his body and her attention was caught by something. The member between the Warlock’s legs had moved. Looking around and contenting herself with knowing that she was completely alone, she pulled off the covers completely. His manhood lay there, inert. Saria moved her finger slowly up and down his chest and she watched as that limb started to stiffen. What was it that the Lord of the Range said?
“Naturally, very few would know but apparently a pure damsel is needed.”
A pure damsel? A pure… Saria stopped. What has not been taken must be freely given.
“A woman that has never lain with a man?” she asked the Warlock, as if he could hear her. No wonder had this curse never been broken. Who would send their daughter to break this curse?
At the revelation, Saria held the edge of the bier and took a deep breath. She had never lain with a man and had thought it would happen differently. He would have been awake, she thought. She looked at the Warlock and caressed his face. He sighed softly. ‘How can I do this?’ she thought. ‘How can I lay with a man I don’t even know?’ She stepped away from the bier and paced back and forth, occasionally looking at the Warlock. She thought of her father and the Keeper. They had fallen in love and were still to this day madly in love with each other. ‘But look at Mother and Father,’ she thought. Those two were like cats and dogs. What was she to do? She asked herself the question over and over, when she sat down against the bier and contemplated her situation.
