You don’t see the Mask Salesman every day. Kafei was surprised to hear his voice from the kitchen, shortly after the familiar sounds of a new arrival. As Anju greeted the fellow, he simply filed the encounter away as interesting.
Then the salesman asked to see Kafei, saying that the matter was urgent.
The three of them went to the library to talk, joining Anju’s grandmother.
“Link is in trouble,” the salesman said matter-of-factly, with a pained expression. And that was a name Kafei hasn’t heard in years.
It’s strange to look back now and consider that only a few days ago, Kafei could have expected to predict his schedule from then until Cremia’s winter party. Someone found an ancient library in an old house by the beach six months ago, and he’s been copying the most valuable of the badly-damaged volumes to fresh parchment. He told Anju’s mother that he could paint the walls of the Knife Chamber, and that was eight months ago, and she can be so awful to him about it sometimes that his motivation just... oops! But he did really mean to get it done when he agreed to it, and he does still mean to get it done now. Before the party, even. He and Anju are taking martial arts classes at the Mighty Training Center, and Anju accidentally punched the instructor the old swordsman hired, so they were going to bring fresh bread next week (assuming she lets them in the building). It’s been the life he dreamed of, the life he very nearly ruined the year the moon almost fell.
But he really would have ruined everything if Link hadn’t helped him. And not a lot of people have helped him, really. Not like that. The way the Mask Salesman was talking, it was like Link had done so much more, too... was he the one who stopped the moon, then? He was from another world? Link hadn’t been very talkative, which Kafei had respected. Just who was he? What was he doing there? Kafei doesn’t like to look like he doesn’t know what’s going on, so he just nodded along with a serious expression. He has some questions for Link, though. Because of course he’s helping. Of course.
The Mask Salesman gave Kafei a cloth bundle and told him not to open it, just take it to Link, through the passage under the Clock Tower. When he opened it, on the other side and out of sight, it was just a plain, wooden mask. Kafei has known masks to hold great power. Considering the context, it surely couldn’t be ordinary. He never put it on, despite a strong pull of curiosity.
Those warrior women have it now. That, and all of his supplies, and the knife in his boot. He hopes they don’t think to put the mask on, if it’s powerful enough to give Link major support in his fight against... well, them, probably. This is just massively humiliating, to fail so quickly. But then again, it may not be over yet. He wailed a passionate and incomprehensible muddle of a story to his captors, something about bringing a present to his niece before her birthday. They were so annoyed with him he’s positive he didn’t register as anybody connected to a military effort. He certainly doesn’t have to act, to show them the picture of a scared civilian who wants to be let go. He hasn’t lost hope that they’ll just give him the mask and boot him out of their camp sooner or later. He doesn’t want to think about alternatives. Anju’s mother was supposed to be the one to kill him, when he didn’t paint the Knife Chamber before the party after all... it wasn’t supposed to end like this.
Later in the day, when they tie Link, himself, to a pole next to him in the tent, he catches himself quickly before he reacts much. His ‘harmless’ persona wouldn’t recognize Link, but would have an important present to get to this niece of his in time for her birthday. He starts warbling about that, going on to explain how much fresh bread he can make for them in exchange for his release. So much fresh bread. The honorable warrior’s look of disapproval is almost fond, and she kicks him so gently it’s just a firm touch of her foot. When she leaves and the tent flap closes, the anxious neediness melts away and he turns to Link and stares, all sharp red eyes and intent. Are you okay? he mouths.
