<center>Act I.i</center>
<center>Staring At The Sea</center>
Tantari Desert. The Wastes. 1:30 PM

<center>~~~</center>

It was hot out that day.

Muggy, humid, and unbearably warm. A sensible Zora would plunge himself into the salty depths of the Great Sea just to gain that moment of refreshment. Yes, a Zora would easily take a guaranteed death in an unfriendly, salty environment than face the possibility of a nasty death by heat stroke. Solstrem Maverick was no Zora, but this still gave him very little reason to yearn for a dip in the ocean.

He stood at Hyrule's northern coast that day, clad in his standard jet black cloak. His hands remained relatively cool beneath his gloves, and his hood he let hang behind his back, exposing his face to the empty afternoon air. He stroked his beard of whiskers in thought, gazing north into the vast expanse of water that lay before him.

The wind was blowing from the west. He looked towards its origin, knowing that he was staring in the direction of his homeland. He longed to be nestled into the armchair at his family's estate in the rich countryside of Calatia. Instead, he was standing in the horrid heat in a kingdom he had grown to detest over the years, hiding his identity instead of sharing it and making new acquaintances. Like a normal person would.

Well, the mage knew he was no ordinary person. “Normal” was not the appropriate term to describe his unwanted importance in an unwanted chain of events.

Maverick had been drawn here almost mystically. He had been searching for some time. Searching for what? Nothing. For whom? A person of great importance. For what reason?

Perhaps you'll find out later.

Now then, as Maverick stood staring at the sea that day, he was suddenly met by an old friend of his. A Mr. Roy Hobbe appeared beside him, a grim expression his face. On that day, Roy Hobbe was not smiling. This assured Maverick that there was very little to be smiling about that day.

“Can't fake a smile, Roy?” he asked wearily, shaking his head,

“Not today,” came the glum reply.

Maverick kicked at the sand, muttering an inaudible curse. He stood perfectly still for a moment, continuing to stare out at the sea. Hobbe followed his friend's gaze out into the nothingness, a puzzled expression replacing the look of depression that had been hanging there before. Before he was able to ask, Maverick cut in with his own response.

“So that's that, then. They got him.”

Hobbe shook his head and averted his eyes. “He didn't stand a chance,” he said solemnly. “I arrived just as they were placing him under arrest. He couldn't escape, either. It was as though our gift had deserted him in his moment of need...”

The cleric could say no more. In an instant, Maverick had grabbed him by the cloak and was barking down his throat.

“Moron! Have you been walking with closed eyes all these years? Have you not witnessed what this “gift” has brought us!”

The moody scholar threw his charge to the ground, sending up a cloud of sand in his wake. Not a second later he realized what he had done and was helping the dusty cleric off of the ground.

“I'm sorry, Roy. You must understand. This is no gift...”

He turned away from the Hobbe, who stood brushing himself off in a daze.

“It's a curse.”

Hobbe nodded and stepped up beside his tormented friend. “I do understand, Maverick. Try to watch your anger. You don't want to become somebody else, right?”

The mage almost smiled.

“This is not over. We will save Tristan. He will not die to those scum. I can only pray to the goddesses that they don't manage to extract any information from him...”

Hobbe grinned widely. “You know... that whole 'praying to the goddesses' bit? Doesn't work for you normies. That's what you have me for.” The cleric winked and winced as the Calatian gave him a hearty shove.

“Yes, well, why don't you use your 'divine connections' and save our Goron?” Maverick asked smugly.

“Because. They don't like it when I abuse my 'divine connections' so often,” came the reply, its speaker bearing a grin twice as smug as the person it had been directed at. “By the way, Maverick... why are you here?”

The Calatian sighed and looked back to the sea. He pictured a strange casket floating to shore, a man bursting from the beached coffin. He pictured this man vomiting, the days at sea without food and water having made him very ill. He pictured this man stumbling in a daze across the dunes of the Wastes.

And then he could picture no more. He continued to stare, speaking one word to his fellow scholar.

“Sulvera.”

Hobbe nodded. There was nothing more that could be said. Maverick quickly changed the subject.

“Form a party, Roy. We're going to go free a noble man.”

Hobbe nodded, again, and turned to stare with Maverick at the waves splashing about in the ocean.

<center>Sulvera...</center>

OOC: Sorry, everyone. No joining just yet. This is just to set some elements in place and set up the next part. Which will be fully joinable. Stay tuned