Poe Stories: The Hero’s Mask

It had been three years since Isaac’s family moved to the country. His father had taken a job with Hyrule’s Royal Guard and was soon dispatched to a quaint farming community called Kakariko Village to monitor the gate leading to Death Mountain. It was an aging community with no children. Isaac knew this new village was home, but it never quite felt like it. He missed the bustling marketplace, the lively music, and most of all, friends. In his loneliness, Isaac took to exploring the town where he soon formed a friendship with Dampé, the gravekeeper. It was no replacement for friends his own age, but it would have to do.

Some may think it’s odd that a child would befriend a tired old man like Dampé, but Isaac felt a sort of connection with the gravekeeper. He too was lonely, living in a rundown one room shack behind the windmill on the edge of town, just within the walls of the graveyard. The townsfolk hardly acknowledged his existence. Isaac admired Dampé’s positive attitude despite not having much of a reason for it. The young boy was inspired to similarly view his own circumstances, though the lingering pain of what felt like a childhood wasted was still itching at the back of his mind.

And so Isaac would find himself day after day wandering around the graveyard, carrying a large stick around like a shovel to imitate his idol. Isaac felt comfortable there because he believed that, like Dampé, the poor souls who laid beneath the graves could relate to his condition, and perhaps that’s why Dampé sought refuge among the dead as well.

On a damp rainy day, not unlike any other, Isaac was playing in the graveyard when he saw what he thought was another kid. Anxious yet excited, Isaac peered from behind one of the tombstones to confirm what he’d seen. It was a boy! He must be new in town, Isaac thought.

Eager, but trying to keep a cool composure, Isaac marched over towards the boy in green, still doing his usual Dampé impression. “What brings you here?” he asked the boy.

The boy in green turned towards him. Isaac saw that he was carrying a sword and shield. As they talked, he learned that the boy wasn’t from around here, and he was only passing through. He was even going to climb Death Mountain. Wow! Isaac thought. To be only a few years older than I am and already on an adventure! Isaac was in awe.

It was then that Isaac noticed a mask hanging from the boy’s waist. It was an odd wooden mask, with hollow eyes and a gaping mouth. It’s soulless expression was spooky, but the craftsmanship was undeniable, hand-carved from an aged plank of wood. It looks a bit like Dampé, Isaac thought.

The boy explained that he was selling the mask for the Happy Mask Shop in Castle Town. Isaac had heard of the Happy Mask Shop before. All of his friends back home had mentioned in letters about a Keaton mask that was all the rage. He wanted a mask like that too but figured this one, though not the same, was even better. This mask was the adventurer’s! He bought it and the boys soon parted ways.

Marching through the graveyard, Isaac’s day proceeded not unlike any other. However, he felt a renewed excitement. He had met a boy, and not just any boy but an adventurer! Isaac’s mind swirled as he envisioned his own adventure. “Hopefully,” he said to himself, “the day will come where I can be a hero too.”

That night, Isaac regaled his parents with stories from the boy in green. Isaac’s father recalled the boy passing through his gate on errand for Princess Zelda herself. He thought it was a silly game of make-believe, but that only confirmed to Isaac that the stories were true — and he had the hero’s mask. That night, Isaac’s dreams were filled with adventure. In the morning, he adorned the mask once more and returned to the graveyard. Now, however, the stick wasn’t Dampé’s shovel but a sword. Isaac was no longer pretending to dig graves, he was fighting Poes, Keese, and monsters that came from beneath the graves.

In the evening, he’d tell his parents of his adventures. They knew his adventures were just a game but it lifted their spirits to see their son full of excitement again. If it meant he wore that mask all day, then so be it. At night, Isaac would dream of adventure. In the morning, he’d race to the graveyard to play out those dreams, day after day.

One evening, almost two weeks after he got the mask, Isaac’s dream of adventure was intercut with flashes of the town’s well, standing at the foot of Kakariko’s windmill, and he thought he heard a quiet, deep moaning. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but for weeks this continued. That low moan was getting louder by the night, and his visions of the well were longer and more frequent.

Nightmares happen, Isaac thought. If I’m going to be an adventurer, I have to face scary things. The boy in green wouldn’t be scared by this.

On his way to the graveyard one morning, Isaac decided to stop by the well. Dampé had told him once a local legend about a man whose house once resided over the well. They say he could “see the truth,” like a sorcerer or fortune teller.

The Well of Three Features, read the sign. “Some name that is,” Isaac said. “But why is it showing up in my dreams? Why now?”

From the surface, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was just a boring old well that you wouldn’t even think to look at as you passed by. Isaac even remembered his dad complaining that it wasn’t even a well but a cistern. “It’s so unremarkable that the townsfolk couldn’t even be bothered to name it right,” Isaac said to himself.

So, Isaac continued to the graveyard to resume his daily routine. In the evening, he continued to regale his parents with stories from the day. At night, his dreams of adventures continued to spiral into nightmares. Every night, the moaning was growing louder, and louder, and louder. The visions of the well grew longer and more vivid.

In time, his dreams introduced a new element, a figure at the bottom of the well. It started out fuzzy, just barely in sight amidst the darkness, beneath the surface of the water. Slowly, night by night, the figure ascended the well closer and closer to the light of day. As it came into the light, Isaac could see that it was pale and lanky. It’s ribs were visible through thin skin, almost as if the sharp edges of bone were ready to burst through. And it wore a wooden mask, just like Isaac’s. From behind the hollow gaze of the mask was darkness, devoid of any emotion. He could hear that deep moan reverberating off the walls of the well, now louder than ever.

What does it all mean? Why was that creature wearing my mask?

One morning, not two months after he first received his mask, Isaac woke up to the town in a frenzy. The windmill was spinning out of the control. They say the mill keeper had gone mad and drained the well. What will the Cuccos drink? How will the crops be watered? The well has been low before but to be drained entirely overnight would spell doom for this farming community.

The well… this must have something to do with my dreams.

After the excitement from the morning had settled, Isaac donned his mask as he did every other day and made his way to the empty well. He peered over the edge into a dark abyss. Just below the waterline was a rusty old ladder fastened to the well’s edge. Isaac picked up a pebble and dropped it into the well. He heard a few clacks as the stone bounced off the walls before it was lost into emptiness.

It was then that he heard a familiar sound, one he’d heard many nights before. From out of the darkness, carried as if upon a breeze, he heard a low deep moan. Isaac paused his thoughts to listen. That all too recognizable moan trudged on relentlessly from the depths of the well. Isaac paused for only a moment but for what felt like an hour. He then settled it within himself. This is my calling.

His mind began to swirl as the reality of his hours spent playing make-believe in the graveyard suddenly seemed like reality. He rushed to the graveyard to grab his trusty stick. Isaac stood atop a grave, triumphantly declaring, “The town is in peril and I will be it’s hero. I will go to the bottom of the well and find what’s drained the water. This is what my dreams have been warning me of. This is why I met that boy in green. This is what I was meant to do.” Then he made his way to the well.

Isaac peered once again over the edge and into the darkness. He took a deep breath as he hefted one leg over the ledge and onto a damp rung of the rusted ladder. Slowly he descended, carefully grasping the stick with two fingers, the other three on the ladder. “This is my calling. This is the start of my adventure. I will be a hero like the boy in green,” he told himself.

Isaac slowly descended the ladder, the spirit of adventure in his eyes, until he was out of sight, lost into the darkness.

That day was the last time anyone saw Isaac. His distraught parents searched endlessly for their boy until political turmoil forced them to flee the country. Any hope of finding their son was lost. Stories are still told in Kakariko Village of a boy in a mask who went missing the day the well was drained. Some speculate that he was lost to the bottom of the well. Others think the late grave keeper Dampé was responsible. Everyone is quite certain, however, that the boy is dead, and that no one will ever find him.

After what must surely have been nearly seven years, Isaac continued to wander the dark halls beneath The Well of Three Features. He had been down there for so long, he didn’t even know if he was in the well anymore. Lost and alone, he had almost forgotten who he was and what brought him there in the first place — surviving off of insects, rats, and forces that can only be described as supernatural. The darkness had made his skin pale and fleshy. Malnourished, his ribs jutted through his thin skin. The mask, still hung from his face.

Groping his way through a dark labyrinth of catacombs, he heard a noise and turned. It was the boy in green! Isaac struggled to walk as it took every ounce of energy and focus to move each leg forward, slowly and agonizingly painful. Falling to the ground in relentless pursuit, he dragged himself towards the boy in green but knew it was to no avail. He called out to the boy but words failed him. All he could muster was a low deep moan.

Do you enjoy a good ghost story around this time of the year? Have you got any Poe stories of your own? Let us know in the comments below!

Nick Miller

Nick is a writer for Zelda Dungeon and a longtime fan of the Zelda franchise. In his free time, he enjoys fishing, archery, skateboarding, and some good ol’ fashioned family time. He’s an advocate for physical media and an avid video game collector. His favorite Zelda game is Ocarina of Time, though Breath of the Wild and the Link’s Awakening remake are close contenders. His other favorite video games series include Kingdom Hearts, Fallout, and Ratchet & Clank.