Chapter 1 – A Snowy Fate
A majestic sunrise marked the beginning of yet another spring day in the mountains of Termina. The air was crisp and clean; not even a single cloud dotted the early morning sky. To say that this particular day was perfect would not be too far from the truth.
Nestled within a small valley was Tri-Island lake, so named because of the three islands that dominated the center of it. These islands served as stepping stones of sorts connecting Goron Village to the outside world via a few short bridges. Most of the time, the area bustled with Gorons of all ages, mulling back and forth between their village and the Goron Racetrack. This particular day was no exception.
“Morning, Darmani!” One of the Gorons called out. A white-haired, brawny Goron looked up.
“Good morning, Drac.” Came the hero’s reply. “Where’re you headed?”
“Nija and I are going to Snowhead.” Drac answered, gesturing toward the pretty female Goron holding his hand. “What about you?”
“I’m taking the Elder’s son to see the Frog Chorus at Mountain Village.” Darmani answered. “See you two later!” He waved his free hand and continued on his way.
“Darmi, why can’t we roll through here?” The Elder’s son asked, tugging on Darmani’s hand. “It’d be lots faster!”
“It’s dangerous, Gevroc ” Darmani looked down at the child with a smile on his face. In spite of Gevroc’s constant whining and crying, Darmani was actually quite fond of him, almost like the Elder’s son was his own nephew. “If you accidentally roll off of one of the bridges, you will fall into the water.”
“Oh.” Gevroc replied. The pair continued on their way to the other side of the lake. Instead of heading up the hill to the racetrack, they continued onward toward Mountain Village. Once there, they headed for a small pool not too far from the path to Snowhead--a pool where the famed Frog Chorus sang. Much to their surprise, Darmani and Gevroc found the pond to be almost completely deserted. “Huh? Where are they?! Where are the froggies?!”
“I don’t know . . .” Darmani’s voice trailed off. He noticed a lone amphibious figure sitting on the side of the pond. “Don Gero?” The figure looked up.
“Darmani.” Don Gero reluctantly answered. The choirmaster stood up to greet the two Gorons. He looked rather distressed. “I’m sorry, but it looks like we won’t be performing today after all.”
“But,” Gevroc began whimpering. “I wanted to see the froggies. . .”
“What happened?” Darmani asked. Don Gero heaved a sigh.
“I’m not sure. We were rehearsing here earlier today, all six of us. One moment everyone was there, then the next moment, two of them had disappeared. The remaining four of us looked all over Mountain Village and even into Tri-Island Lake, but we found no sign of them.” The frog shook his head in disappointment and worry. “There’s no way we can perform with only four frogs, so I sent the other three home. I can only hope that the missing two are okay.”
“That’s odd.” Darmani spoke up.
“Very odd.” Don Gero continued. “I have a feeling that this is a lot more than just two missing frogs. Weird things have been happening all over Termina.” The amphibious choirmaster felt something cold and wet on his shoulder--snowflakes--and hundreds more followed. Darmani looked up; what had been a perfectly clear sky a mere hour before was now dark and cold; a harsh, bitterly cold wind blew through the valley, chilling the two Gorons and the frog.
“But Winter just ended.” Darmani stated. “How can it be snowing now?”
“I don’t know. . .” Don Gero replied. “But none of us should be out here in it. I’m heading back for the swamp. I wish you well.” With those words, the rotund frog hopped down the path toward Termina Field, leaving Darmani and Gevroc alone.
“We’d better be getting back now.” Darmani took Gevroc’s hand and led him back toward the safety of the Goron Shrine.
By the time Darmani and Gevroc had reached the Goron Shrine, nearly five inches of snow had fallen. Every Goron in the village had gathered in the shrine to keep away from the cold; somehow, the freezing weather managed to creep inside, so even the Elder’s Chamber was slightly colder than normal.
“Ah, Darmani!” The Elder breathed a sigh of relief. “I was worried about you two. The storm came along so fast I was afraid you may have gotten trapped.”
“We’re just fine.” Darmani answered. He let go of Gevroc’s hand and sat down; the child ran over to his father and gave him a big hug.
“Well, that’s much more than I can say for the Village if this storm keeps up.” The Elder pointed out. “Drac and Nija just returned from the Snowhead Temple with some disturbing information.” Darmani became alert. Any message from the Temple meant trouble.
“What is it?”
“The guard seems to have disappeared.”
“What?” Darmani’s eyes grew to the size of pancakes.
“It seems that the blizzard is blowing in from there.” The Elder continued. “Drac said that he could’ve sworn he saw a small child wearing a terrible looking mask flying away from the Temple just before the blizzard began.”
“We barely got out of there alive.” Came Drac’s voice from behind them. “The wind started picking up and nearly blew us over the side of the cliff.”
“That’s not natural.” Darmani flatly stated.
“I think it was that kid with the weird mask.” Drac replied. “Before I saw him, everything was normal. The guard was there, and then suddenly he wasn’t there. It’s like that masked kid created some sort of demon that’s cursing the Temple.” Heaving a sigh, Darmani stood up from his seat.
“I’m going up there to see what’s going on.” He made for the door. “If there’s a demon up there, I’ll find it.”
“Darmi, be careful!” Gevroc called to him. “Don’t get hurt or die or anything!” The Goron hero chuckled.
“You know that I can’t die until I’ve eaten a thousand tons of rock sirloin!” He called back.
The journey to Snowhead was a difficult one. Darmani struggled up the steep hill, slipping periodically on the increasing layer of wet snow. Even rolling across the twin chasms, a task that usually presented no problems, was nearly impossible. Fortunately, Darmani was able to keep his traction long enough to reach the other side without falling.
The path to the temple, however, presented a new, more startling challenge. Not only was the ground slippery, but a fierce, biting wind was blowing across the path at periodic intervals. Darmani was not looking forward to crossing.
But I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do. The hero thought. He summoned up his courage and ventured out into the open valley. Almost immediately a blast of wind hit him, pushing him backward slightly and nearly making him lose his balance. Once the gust has stopped, Darmani tried again, this time making it onto the narrow part of the path before another gust hit him. Again, he was pushed backward.
“This is getting me nowhere.” Darmani grumbled. He crouched into a ball and began rolling up the path, taking care to remain as straight as possible. Another gust of wind hit him, but this time he seemed to be successful in fighting it. He continued up the path in his roll, nearly reaching the platform that the temple itself stood upon. Before he could make it up the hill, another blast hit him, but much stronger than any of the other gusts had been. Darmani began to wobble toward the edge of the path. Quickly he stopped his roll and landed on his feet, but the wind blew even harder, and Darmani felt his feet slipping. Before he could curl into a ball again, he slipped off of the edge of the path and fell.
I have failed. Was the last thought to run through Darmani’s mind before hitting the jagged stone rock formations at the valley floor.
