Whispers of a Secret (Philomena)

[Nadia al Khalifa]

All the happenings of Hyrule passed before it. Merchants tending their shops, guards standing duty, outlaws planning crimes, it saw them all. All of this information and more passed by its one eye as it waited for the makers to tap into it and search for answers. None of the things it saw registered. How many calories were in that apple, how fast that horse ran, how long that spider’s web was. It knew all these things off hand, ready to answer questions, ready to be needed.

When was the last time the makers had sought an answer? It could sense the presence of others like it across the land, also sitting still and waiting. How long until they would be needed? That was one of the few questions it couldn’t answer, and the only one it sought the answer to. Sad, really, except it was a stone and emotions like sand and happy didn’t appeal to it.

Then it could sense the presence of someone nearby. Someone different than the children who came and played with it. They stopped by it and waited. It knew the person was thinking. It could see the thoughts being formed. Fragments came together to form ideas and ideas crawled about like insects looking for the right words. Some ideas tapered off, unable to exist without words. Others were crushed by the large boot of dismissal. Some, however, collected the words and those ideas slowly grew into fully formed thoughts. It saw those thoughts form and just as they came to completion wherein it would be able to read them, all went black.

She could no longer see all of Hyrule. Frantically she looked about, her eye seeing nothing but darkness. Then there was color. A vortex of color assaulted her as her eye darted about. Then there was smell. What was that smell? She didn’t know. It was sweet, clean and fresh. How did she know this? How was she smelling? After smell came touch. Gentle stalks of something brushed against her skin. Grass? Why did she have skin? What was that sound? Thousands of tiny impacts and creaks combining into a rush so loud she had to cover her ears with the hands she now had. There was something in her mouth. It was wet and icky. Wait, that was her tongue.

She opened her eye to green.

Leaves swayed gently in the wind, nudging each other to create that cascading sound. The fresh fragrance of the forest filled her nostrils. Grass brushed against her bare skin in a sensation she didn’t recognize, but her body naturally flinched away from it. Was that tickling? Why was she being tickled? How was she being tickled? Her eye fell upon the bare flesh of her knee, then down the pale leg to the toes. Gingerly she reached out and touched one with her finger. More tickling.

The hand retracted. She raised both hands curiously and wiggled her fingers. It was a strange sensation to have limbs. They seemed to get in the way, dangling from her side like that. Staring hard at her hands and up her alabaster arms, she began to study herself, exploring every inch of bare flesh and touching it to see what tickled and what didn’t. She quickly found out she was quite ticklish, but paid it no mind. There were other areas that hurt instead of tickled, and others yet that felt strange. Perhaps good? She sat there in the center of whatever meadow she ended up in and studied herself from her toenails to her long grey hair.

What else did she have to do? She was a stone.

[philomena]

It was really a lot of trouble sometimes, keeping birds. Especially when the two that stayed constantly where both extremely stubborn and irritating, but still wonderful. Philomena was in this forest for one reason only: To retrieve her owl, Callisto. The white bird had been very upset when she had seen her former owner on a fly about the city. It was no surprise, he had neglected her and had only kept her with the goal of selling her. Callisto had flown away into the forest, leaving Philomena worried and frantic back in the castle town.

Irene had found her, and Philomena as well with the aid of her spying device. She had been hiding out in the Minish Forest. Philomena had never even been aware of that particular corner of the forest. Even as she was leaving, she couldn't help but feel that she was being watched, and that she was not welcome here. Both of her birds followed her. It had taken her hours to console and convince Callisto to come back with her. It pained her to see her beloved owl so shaken.

Now to make the long way back to castle town. Philomena knew that she should have probably brought someone with her, venturing out like this could be dangerous on her own. She felt overly confident with both of her birds, though. Irene was usually enough to scare anyone off, a 20-pound eagle with razor-sharp talons wasn't something to be taken lightly by anyone. Not that Irene would ever hurt a soul, but Philomena would never let anyone know that. She had that much protection, at least.

Even that didn't help when Mena saw something move out of the corner of her eye. Sh darted behind a tree with as much speed as she could (not much) and peeked out. It wasn't what she feared. What she saw didn't seem threatening at all, even though it was a bit odd.

There seemed to be a girl sitting in a clearing. Philomena couldn't tell what she was doing, she didn't seem to be doing anything at all. It was all very strange. Maybe she was lost? She walked out from behind the tree. Her birds chose to stay in the branches, watching. "Excuse me, I don't mean to disturb you or anything. Are you lost?"

[Nadia al Khalifa]

Another sound. By now she was becoming more familiar with these newfound senses. Before she could hear, but this was a different kind of hearing. One had to filter out the background noise, get rid of all that was useless, and focus in on what was necessary, all with a second’s notice. The voice, for example. She knew someone was coming and when the woman spoke, she had to tune in with her ears and listen for the words. If she was slow to the draw she might lose some of what was said, leaving the rest of it completely useless.

So she did exactly that. She tuned in her ears and listened to the words. Simple words, spoken with a gentle tone. What was that feeling? Comfort, she decided. A tone that comforted. A comforting tone. That was something that people used, was it not? Tone seemed quite important. It seemed to affect the very meaning of the words. Before she couldn’t hear tone. There were thoughts that formed with words, but there was no tone to those words. Now she listened carefully, repeating the words the woman spoke over in her head and parsing the different inflections.

“Excuse me,” she repeated, the words flat and monotonous. “Excuse me,” she said again, this time adding the same inflections the woman had used, testing the tone. Next came an experiment, placing the emphasis out of place, the inflection upon the middle of the word. “Excuse me.” The experiment worked and she realized that words could sound strange based upon the inflection. The little linguist reached up and put her finger on her tongue, then tried it again. “Eshkush mre,” she said and withdrew her finger, more data stored away. She was getting the hang of this language thing.

But the woman had used a different form of inflection with the last words. The words came together to form a question, so she could only assume the words had an inquiring tone. “Are you lost?” she repeated, this time deciding copying the inflection was all she needed. The data from her earlier experimentation could be applied in this case. It was just a different tone, not a separate entity. She was pleased with this conclusion and went back to studying her own unclothed body. But the woman had asked a question. Questions needed answers. That was her primary function. She had to answer it.

“No.” That was it. That was the answer to the question, there was no need for further elaboration.

How far back could she bend her fingers? She decided to test this next.

[philomena]

((Derpity))

Philomena was confused by the girl. She didn't seem to be quite normal. As she walked a bit closer, she noticed that the girl was completely Bare. A blush crept up her ears, but then again there was nothing there that she didn't have. If it where a man sitting there it would be a different story. Philomena had to wonder if the girl was alright. Even though she apparently wasn't lost, she did seem misplaced, somehow. It was as if she didn't belong. Did she even know where she was?

Mena walked a bit closer, and crouched down to the girl's level. She had a blanket in her pack, and she would be glad to give it as a covering for the girl if she needed it. "You're not lost? Are you sure?" She really wanted to confirm this for her own peace of mind. Philomena would never be able to forgive herself if she left someone here alone that needed help.

She looked the girl over once again. She was beginning to notice things that seemed out of place. There was her eye, for one... was there something wrong with it? The girl's attention didn't seem to be on the world around her, or maybe she just wasn't reacting? it put her in mind of a baby bird who had just hatched.

What was this girl? Philomena decided that she was definitely not human. This was beyond her. It made her nervous to know that she had no idea what she was dealing with. "I'm sorry if this is too bold, but... what are you? Do you need any help?"

[Nadia al Khalifa]

The person moved closer to her, then there was that voice again. Similar question, different inflections. She did not need to repeat them this time; she knew her voice and knew how the inflection would sound. Identical. What inflection was it? They were both questions. The first was marked with disbelieve, the second with uncertainty. The woman was looking for affirmation, she did not believe the answers.

She turned to look up at the woman, grey hair falling away from the crystal rose that was over her left eye, seemingly grafted to the skin. Her right eye, golden and piercing, turned from the woman to the sky, and started to dart about. The sun’s position, direction of the wind and the clouds, the horizon, all of it was taken in. Then she looked down at the trees: the direction the roots were growing, which side the moss grew on, once more there were factors to be taken in. Finally she focused back on the woman, after just a split second of looking about. “We are currently fifteen and three eighth kilometers from Ordon Village,” she said matter-of-factly, though her voice was flat and emotionless. Was there an inflection for answers?

She hoped the woman would be satisfied with the answer and turned back to studying herself. There was something different about having flesh, skin and bones. She wasn’t certain if she liked it or not, but it seemed to be her fate. It was a chance to study the human anatomy, as it were. What was the point of these mounds covering the mammary glands? And why were hers smaller than the woman’s? Her hands rose up and she started to study her own chest before another statement was given and a question asked.

Sorry? Sorry for what? Bold, brave, courageous. She was concerned she was overstepping herself with the question. Why would she be afraid? Nervousness was a confusing feeling; it seemed entirely too useless. A question is a question, so why would she be nervous about asking it? The question, however . . . there was an involuntary muscle twitch in the corner of her mouth. Her hand reached up and touched it, before she realized that she had just smirked. Why? There was humor in the question, hidden behind irony. “You would have heard the name Gossip Stone to describe me,” she said with that same flat, emotionless tone. She would need to learn inflections soon, she knew, if she was going to familiarize herself with people.

[philomena]

"Oh,.." Well, that answered that question. Even Mena hadn't known where they where to that exact degree, relative knowledge was enough. She never got lost with her birds, they would always find a way if she lost it. It was very strange, that answer. Stranger than a girl sitting bare in the middle of the forest. Philomena noticed that the girl seemed to be investigating her own body, what had she stumbled upon here? She looked at the ground, still now comfortable with the girl's lack of clothing.

When her other question was finally answered, Mena's eyes snapped up to look at her face. A gossip stone? This just was getting stranger and stranger! She didn't even know what to think about this any more. All of her observations seemed to be piling up and pointing towards one thing. "I thought that gossip stones where, you know, stones. You haven't been like this for very long, have you?"

If she where wrong about this, she would be surprised. Mena didn't know a lot about magic, but this didn't seem impossible.

[Nadia al Khalifa]

The woman seemed shocked by her answer. Since giving the answer, she could now give the exact longitude and latitude of their location, having factored in much more. However this was something most people wouldn't understand, as the wider world was still large and bare. Her eye examined her chest, though she quickly realized how futile it was to try and view oneself entirely without some sort of mirror. That brought up her next task: looking for a mirror.

The woman was saying something, however. Disbelieve followed by quiet acceptance in her voice. Then another question. She looked up at the woman with that stone mask of a face. "No," was all she said in response to the woman's question. That being done, she slowly rose to her feet. They were shaky, having never been walked on, but they functioned. As she rose she studied all of her own joints and how they moved with such synchronicity. She willed herself up and her body responded in kind.

Then an idea occurred. Not something stones normally have, but with a human brain it was bound to happen. She turned to look at the woman again. "Do you have a mirror?" she asked, even testing the inflections she'd picked up from the woman. Unfortunately there are many tones to use when asking a question, so this one came out awkward as she mimicked the polite confusion the woman had shown earlier in her questions.

[philomena]

A.... mirror? No, she didn't have one. Not on her person. She would have to walk all the way back to castle town with this girl to get hers, not something that she was willing to do at the moment. She must not know that a mirror isn't something that one usually carries.... She was new after all. Philomena couldn't help but wonder how she came to be this way.

There was another way she could solve this problem though. "I don't have a mirror, but there is a small pond a litte bit that way," Mena pointed back the way she had came. She had passed that very pond just a little bit ago. It was reflective enough."Would that work for you?"

As she thought more about this girl, she realized that she didn't know what to call her! Did she even have a name? And if not, where names something that they even cared about? "My name is Philomena, are names something that gossip stones have?"

[Nadia al Khalifa]

There was no irritation on her face at the answer. It was still just a flat, emotionless expression, single golden eye watching the woman, who identified herself as Philomena. She considered the option Philomena offered, but decided it would not do. "No. Wind is blowing at twenty two kilometers per hour here, with less shelter on the lack it will be at maximum twenty eight kilometers per hour. The surface of the lack will ripple, giving ideally only twenty per cent reflection."

There were more questions. "No, we do not have names," she responded simply. There was never any need for a name. She was a stone, when someone was talking to her they spoke to her, and then their business was concluded. The best way most people found to identify her apart from others was to give her general location. Where had that been? She couldn't remember. Somewhere nearby. Perhaps near Ordon Village. She pondered this as she began to walk, moving one foot in front of the other and feeling the grass tickle the soles of her feet.

Where would she go? She could move now, her feet carrying her along. There was only one thing she could think to do: see. That was all she was used to doing, that was all she wanted to do. She would see things, see them this way instead of as she had before. That decision made, she began off with a vague sense of direction on where she was going. Where was her final goal? She didn't know, but she knew she wanted to go in this direction.