Disclaimer and Notes: The
Legend of Zelda and related characters belong to Nintendo. No profit is being
made or sought from this fan fiction.
As an artistic
gimmick, this story contains verses from the Bible (New International Version
translation). I wanted to play with a
theme of “spirituality and money” and the Bible happens to be the spiritual
heritage I am most familiar with. The
story is built around select out-of-context verses as a theme, but in no way is
a preaching or “conversion” type of fan fiction. (I personally find those
obnoxious). The verses exist only as a
motif, much in the way people use poetry or song lyrics separate from a plot to
illustrate a theme. In other words, do
not worry or get excited – I’m not trying to “Christianize” Hyrule. If you’re looking for that, there are fics of that stripe out there – this just isn’t one of
them. Enjoy the theme if you can. If you cannot, hit the back button. What this author believes or doesn’t believe
is also beside the point. It was an
artistic decision – nothing more, nothing less.
The title is a
reference to the original Legend of Zelda game. When you play that game,
occasionally, you’ll come across old men who demand “Your money or your life!”
and you’ll be given the choice to leave behind rupees or one of your heart
containers.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Link walked through the streets of Castle
Town in the gloaming of early
evening. The streets were largely devoid
of people. A few milled about listlessly.
The rain had just stopped, leaving still puddles to reflect the clouds
in bright colors. Pet dogs and stray
cats took shelter under the awnings of closed outdoor shops. One old cat mewed at him and he smiled, even
as he was on his way. He had business with an old shop on a particular
street. He’d already seen some old
friends and had a drink at Telma’s, but he wasn’t in
town to stay and socialize.
The feasts and parades for him had stopped long ago. He’d heard that there was a statue of him in
the royal garden, but he’d never seen it.
Hyrule had been at peace for nearly twenty
years now. Time and peace had a way of
easing and erasing people’s memories.
The only people who ever recognized him anymore when he’d come back to
old haunts were dear old friends. Even
in his ancestor’s clothes, most people who took notice of him mistook him for
just another lost soul trying to impersonate the Hero. It was too much of a bother to try to correct
them. After all, a land at peace had no
need for a Hero.
Link found the shop he was looking for and the back entrance
to it that he was likewise looking for.
He sought out a particular person this day, the only one who could be of
help to him. He knocked on the
door.
Do not be overawed
when a man grows rich, when the splendor of his house increases; for he will
take nothing with him when he dies, his splendor will not descend with him. __
Psalms 49: 16-17
“Coming! I’m coming already!” a voice on the other side of
the door sounded. “If you’re here with
supplies, give me a moment to find my pen to sign for them.”
After a few moments, the door opened with a creak. “You?” the owner of the voice asked. “I
thought you were dead.”
Link laughed softly. “No, I’m afraid I’m not dead just
yet. May I come inside? It’s awfully wet
out here and I have a proposition for you.”
“Come in,” the young man said. “I thought you were one of my
Goron tradesmen.
My custom black powder supplier is late on his shipment; he’s been
wanting double the rupees for his trouble suddenly when he’s been at the same
rate for years. It’s highway robbery, I
tell you! So, Link, it’s been a
while. I last saw you… what? Four years
ago? That’s new.”
The man pointed to Link’s face, specifically, to a prominent
scar across his right cheek. Link was glad that he never expected politeness
from Malo. He
had certainly grown up from that strange little kid he’d once known. The events
of twenty years ago had changed them both.
Malo had not grown into a handsome person by
any stretch of the imagination. He
wasn’t particularly enormous, but he was rotund and with a fat face. He looked as though he were balding, though
he was only in his twenties. His skin was the pale color of one who did not go
outside much. What Malo
was above all, however, was rich – very rich.
He was dressed very well today – in crimson robes and gold jewelry.
Link, by contrast, was thin, sinewy, tan and scarred. He
wore his favorite set of clothes – his Hero’s tunic, which, after all these
years, remained in good condition. He took great care of it. The color of its fabric, however, seemed
drained in a mild sense, from what it once was.
Link’s blue eyes were a little paler than they used to be and did not
carry the fierceness they once had.
Everything about him seemed to have a faded quality today and Malo noticed this.
Link’s expression brightened, however, when he looked around
the room he was in. This was Malo’s back office.
It was full of plush furniture and hanging upon the walls were many
beautiful paintings and ornamental weaponry with shields. Link’s sensitive ears could pick up strains
of the music that played in the main Malo Mart on the
other side of the wall.
“Sit down,” Malo ordered, pointing
to a chair beside a large desk, which he sat behind. “What brings you here,
Link? I thought you were off fighting evil.”
“Well… yeah,” Link sighed, rubbing the back of his
neck. “I’ve just come in from a kingdom
called Labrynna.
Things have been slow in my life, so I thought I’d come home for a bit.”
“This is hardly home,” Malo
commented. “For you, I mean. You don’t have a home anymore. Some of the
folks in Ordon have been asking about you,
though. Did you know that Mayor Ilia just had her third kid?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Maybe you should visit Ordon and
let everyone know you’re still alive.”
“I’m not sure they’d want to see me like this, as I am. It
was pretty rough on everybody the last time I visited. I make a better memory,
don’t you think?”
Malo laughed. “So what does the
faded Hero want? Perhaps you’re here to
help me with my Goron problem. You can go be my muscle and flash your sword
for me, get them to drop their supply prices so I can keep my prices low and
purchases high. Lots of people come into
my store just to buy that powder for construction projects and the like. I’d be
willing to pay you a fair price.”
Link glared at the younger man. “Why don’t you just pay what the Gorons demand? I’m sure you could keep your business
going. The luxury of this room tells me
that you aren’t hurting for rupees. Rumor has it that you’re the richest person
in Castle Town,
save for the Queen, of course, and she doesn’t really count because the royal
wealth is the public trust. Isn’t what
you have enough?”
Whoever loves money
never has enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with his income. This too is meaningless. __ Ecclesiastes
5:10
“I still have dreams,” Malo said.
“I’d like to have more stores and to make a name upon Hyrule. A person like you may be forgotten easily,
but the king of all merchants will not be.
Anyway, why have you come? Is this a social call?”
“No,” Link said. He
dipped a hand into a leather pouch on his belt and brought out of it a tiny
object. He set it upon Malo’s desk and tapped it with his thumb. The object expanded in size and collapsed
upon the desk. It was red and golden,
but the gold looked as though it had lost its luster and was nothing more than
tarnished brass.
“I haven’t seen that in years,” Malo
stated. “I’ve never been able to find
another set of magic armor like it.”
“Then, hopefully you’ll be willing to pay me a fair sum for
it?” Link suggested. “I cannot afford to
use it anymore.”
“I’ve noticed,” Malo said
dourly. “It runs on rupees and transfers
whatever funds you have on hand right into a special coffer that I keep. That coffer has long been empty. I just
assumed that you’d gotten yourself killed somewhere out there when you weren’t
wearing it and that’s why I wasn’t seeing any profit from you.”
“Will you buy it back from me? I’ve found my travel funds had run dry. I
cannot hunt for my dinner all the time.”
“Are you really that bad off?” Malo
asked. “So much for being a Hero. You save people’s lives and their freedom,
and what has it gotten you? You have scars on you and no one even recognizes
who you are anymore. If you were smart,
you would have settled down and started a business of some kind. I remember when you used to be a rancher –
you could have cornered the market on goat milk or something of that nature.”
“People needed me,” Link responded, “Needed my skills. I
felt restless when I wasn’t using them.
I guess I could just never go home again, not really.”
“You ought to look to yourself more, Link. You have to be greedy to survive in this
world. A little greed has gotten me a
comfortable life. What has your
abundance of altruism gotten you?”
But store up for
yourselves treasures in Heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where
thieves do not break in and steal for where your treasure is, there your heart
will be also. __ Matthew 6:20-21
“I am still looking for something,” Link said softly.
“Another world, I guess. I never felt that
I could go home and back to a quiet life after the things I’ve been
through. I always felt that I had to
honor the skills that I have and they are skills that cannot be honored with a
quiet life. When I break a curse or save
someone from monsters, or just when I’m helping someone with a small problem… I
feel like I’m right where I need to be.
There are still evils in Hyrule… small evils,
and there are other lands. I guess I
just keep riding, hoping I’ll one day find a gateway to the world I’m looking
for… or one day run into the person I’m looking for.”
“That sounds like a poor life,” Malo
said flatly. “A thankless life with a
lot of hunger and hardship, especially if you’re here to sell me back something
that’s probably saved your life on multiple occasions. I’ve never been one for
poverty. Give me nice lodgings, fine
clothes and the glitter of rupees – that’s all I’ve ever wanted and what I want
more of.”
Link smiled gently.
“I once knew a man who sold his soul for riches. This was a long time ago.”
“My soul is in perfect shape!” Malo
contended, “If I have one, if any of us even have one. To think about such things too much is
impractical.”
People who want to get
rich fall into temptation and a trap and into many foolish and harmful desires
that plunge men into ruin and destruction. __ 1 Timothy 6:9
“Anyway,” Link continued, “I once knew a man who sold his
soul to gain untold wealth. He was
visited by Poes, sixty of them that did, indeed make
him very rich. However, they quite literally
stole his soul and shattered it into sixty parts which they kept for
themselves. His soul made them quite
strong while the poor man was made very weak.
They’d turned him into a golden statue, glittering with many
jewels. They even transformed his
cat. The man’s name was Jovani.”
“That old drunk?” Malo
exclaimed.
“The very same,” Link said sadly. “I cannot disclose the details of it, but I
did manage to help him… those many years ago when the reign of darkness was
going on. He got his soul back, but was
never the same as he once was.”
“He gave away most of his money,” Malo
said, “To the shelter for orphans, to Castle
Town University…
and most of it to Telma’s Bar. He bought quite a bit of fish from me the
last time I did business with him. I’ve gotten a deal with some Zora fishermen lately – they bring me both kinds, colorful
fish for pets and fish for food. I’m unhappy with their trade prices, as
well. I saw Jovani
last week feeding stray cats outside his place. The nerve! Reekfish
is premium and he’s feeding it to worthless flea-bitten animals!”
“Why should it matter to you if that’s what makes him
happy?” Link asked. “He paid for the
fish, didn’t he? It is his to keep or give away as he pleases.”
“Yes,” Malo conceded, “but it seems
a bit… odd. I’ve worked quite hard to have what I do and I like to enjoy
it. It just seems a little too free.”
“I suppose it is why I live the way I do,” Link sighed. “We all sell our souls to something. Some sell them to work, or to status, or to
money. Some of us sell them to other people.
I’ve sold my soul to see people smile and to see the peace in their eyes
when they feel they can be safe. It is
my freedom, I guess.”
“And that’s why I’m happy to leave the hero-work to dreamers
like you,” Malo replied. “Anyway, I will buy the armor back, unless
you wish to do some work for me, instead.”
No one can serve two
masters. Either he will hate one and
love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money. __
Matthew 6:24
“What you mentioned before, right,” Link said.
“Be my muscle… my ‘negotiator,’ if you will, Link. The Gorons will
listen to you. You’re their ‘sworn brother,’ so you can schmooze them. If they will not listen to that, you’re
strong and skilled with the blade. I can
use you with the Zoras, too.”
“You’re asking me to be a henchman!” Link growled. “Listen, Malo… I’m
sure your suppliers set their prices according to their needs. I am not going to be your gangster. I will not lower my honor like that. I prefer
to help people in need when the times call for it. I am not a hired sword.”
“Very well,” Malo replied. “We could have had a great partnership. I could have shared quite a bit of my wealth
with you, but if you are content with your hunger and hardship, I’ll leave you
to it. Just think upon how ‘well’ you
are remembered and honored, Sir Hero.
Just think about it for a while.”
“I will,” Link promised, taking the purse of three-hundred
rupees from Malo’s hand. It was far less than what Link had originally
paid for the armor, not to mention all of the money that he’d sunk into keeping
it active in the occasional battles he’d used it in. It was used armor, after all, its powers of
nigh-invulnerability aside, and he did not think he could get any more out of Malo without resorting to something beneath his honor. He would let it go. After all, Malo was an old friend.
As he turned to leave, he looked back at the portly younger
man. “I don’t think I’ll change my mind,
though,” he said, “After all, they say that one cannot serve Farore and Money.”
END.