It
It was a dark and stormy night.
Sounds typical, doesn't it?
But it's the only way to describe the evening when the King of Red Lions bumped the shore of Greatfish Isle. The setting sun was obscured by gray clouds, which were releasing torrents of rain. My tunic was already soaked through from hours of sailing through boiling waves during a steady drizzle. Now I felt like I'd never dry off.
I peered up at the remains of the islet. It looked like a giant had split the land in two with a mighty fist, leaving rocky formations to jut from the water like splinters of a ruined ship. I could barely make out an ancient Hylian symbol on one of the massive stones, one I recognized as a protection Jabun had used when he fled to Outset Island, my peaceful home.
I had been to Greatfish Isle before, but we had to leave quickly in pursuit of the ancient water-spirit. I had only caught glimpses of the ruins before we set sail again.
The moon was almost full tonight. According to my chart, something was going to happen here tonight. Something I didn't quite understand, but I needed to witness to gain the last of the Triforce charts.
"Why don't we ask the man-fish?" the King of Red Lions said in his deep, rumbling voice. I nodded, reaching for my bait-bag. I reached in and felt about for some little pellets and drew them out. They were so soggy it was more like having a handful of mud than bits of bait. Sighing and closing my bag, I cast the saturated bait into the sea.
After a moment of waiting, in which my limbs started to go numb from the cold, a dark shape made its way towards the bait. A grotesque, man-like face suddenly popped out from under the water.
"W-what are you doing here, fry?" the man-fish asked, its features twisted into an expression of fear.
"I need to ask you a question," I told it calmly.
"Go on, fry, but make it quick."
I paused, then forged on. "Something's supposed to happen here tonight. What is it?"
The man-fish burst out with an unearthly wail. "Kyaah!" it cried. "It happens tonight!"
"What is… 'it'?" I asked it, a small flutter of terror gripping my heart.
"Over there," the creature gasped, gesturing with one fin towards the west. "Please, fry, say you're not going to look for It."
"But what is it?" I cried in despair.
"Your worst nightmare," the man-fish said, its face distorted into a look of completely, agonized terror. With a tiny splash, it submerged and swam away.
The King of Red Lions turned to look gravely at me, his eyes solemn. Avoiding his gaze, I unfurled the sail and busied myself putting it up. Still without talking, we cruised to the west, slowly leaving the meagre safety of the shore.