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From long ago, there was the legend. A legend that was passed through the Kokiri people like a wildfire. A legend that bore no name, as it was a disgusting and terrible tale of Kokiri who had not only lost his fairy, but had been banished from the Village for being a potential and actual threat to their civilisation. This Kokiri had been travelling for many months, the years passed by and the Kokiri never aged, never stopped and never smiled. The Kokiri, who had never known anything aside from the Village and his friend, was banished. Banished as a threat.

The young Kokiri, darker than a usual Kokiri, through the powerful sun that tanned his skin, with dark rugged brown hair was called Fino. The many years he had never stopped walking. Drying his tears every few hours to stop his vision from blurring. However, Fino’s self-belief, and relentless walking was never to be known.

This is the story of the lost Kokiri. The Kokiri that would never meet the Goddesses, the Kokiri that never turned to silver clouds. The many years that Fino had walked, never eating, and growing progressively thinner had thrown him through the many realms of regression. His feet were bleeding through lack of real shoes and his clothes were torn. He did not stop. His catatonic state refused to believe the truth. Banished. Never a chance to rest his weary head.

In the Forest, Fino’s story was being retold to the latest generation of Kokiri’s. The elder Kokiri gathered the tiny new beings and they formed a standard Kokiri Triangle, something, “My children, my dears, this is a tale of love, power and danger. All Kokiri’s know this tale. A tale that will never, and should never, be forgotten by our people. The story begins with a young Kokiri, his name, Fino. Yes, Fino. The name now has only misery and pain attached to it. But this Fino, he showed amazing talent. He was a master of the Slingshot. His voice could charm the stars from the sky and the louder he sang, the stars, like dancers, would perform for him. He was known and loved.

“Each Kokiri that ever spoke to Fino left with a smile. No one knew what this Kokiri was capable of. Fino was in love. He had many admirers; too many, some would say. But he was in love. He had been for many a year. The young Kokiri he was in love with was Jinoia. Jinoia, the great grandmother of our head of elders. When they were young, Fino would spend hours outside her tree. Singing, making the leaves move in their branches for her. Aiming his heart at her.

However, our Fino had competition. Jinoia was a beautiful Kokiri. Her eyes, her eyes were like the very emeralds that the Forest’s treasure is made from. She knew this too. Many a Kokiri would wait for her. Pay for her and carry her items around for her. However, no one would wait for as long as Fino. Fino, being the artist he was never helped in the fields, he bathed, composed and sang songs. He was loved.

Jinoia never liked Fino. It was clear from the way she would look away when he came to help her. Fino, however, never seemed to understand why. He did everything he possibly could for her. She always thanked him, with a slight blush. Yet, never actually cared. Or so it seemed to Fino.

Many years passed, Fino’s love for Jinoia never stopped. Jinoia, however, had a new admirer. One that was in a more powerful position than our loved Fino. Pilik, the Kokiri General’s, yes, we had an army at one point, son. This boy was as handsome as Jinoia was beautiful. Leading a spoiled life of the Kokiri General, he had never known rejection, pain, fear or hardships. He had never learned how to earn what he received. Just expected. Fino hated this. He hated that Jinoia, the love of his life, had gone with this Pilik, the spoiled boy from the east of the Forest. Not raised in the Village like he and Jinoia. Just an alien, inspecting the area and found something to amuse him.

Jinoia saw the pain that Fino was in. Jinoia, who had never known any better, became more and more acquainted with Fino. The love of his life was finally accepting him. His dreams were slowly coming true, bit-by-bit, day-by-day, he was gradually becoming more and more happy. The stars were dancing, the trees were singing. Fino was in love. Jinoia, on the other hand, grew tired of the devotion. The love she wanted was not an obsessive, and lovely child. She wanted a fully-grown Kokiri, like Pilik.

But, by this time, Pilik was slowly planning. Plotting his revenge on Fino. Fino, who was known well, was too happy to notice that Pilik was spending more and more time with Jinoia. Jinoia, who was happy to avoid Fino, left the village for days at a time. Venturing off with Pilik, who had never known constraint.

This set of events continued many times over the coming years. Each time, they became more and more daring. Fino, who was a lovely boy, but a little slow on matters of the heart, soon began to catch on. On one return, he saw Pilik bend down and kiss Jinoia.

The rage that went through this young Kokiri is one that has never been matched by our race since. He leapt from his tree, where Jinoia and him had been living for many years. As he rushed across their lands, Pilik saw the angry young man. In tears. A laugh erupted from his lips. Fino, a passionate artist, had the very ground below him move. His love with nature and his voice moved the grounds. Pilik, who had never believed this, was worried.

Pilik continued to laugh at Fino as his rage overtook him. Fino jumped. Jumped onto Pilik and pulled him to the ground. As he thrashed on the floor, Fino attacked. With a relentless blow of nature and his small fists, he attacked the poor Pilik around the head. Pilik rolled over and drew his sword and threw it. Fino caught, swung and it slashed Pilik through his stomach. The Kokiri staggered backwards, a look of horror on his face, as Fino turned, he saw in his swing he had attacked, his lover, Jinoia.

Her screams echoed through the Village and the Forest. Many Kokiri guard rushed to Fino as he fell to the floor. The tears had never ended. Kokiri healers were rushing around the scene; however, they were unable to save either Jinoia or Pilik. Fino was arrested on site and by the declaration of the Great Deku Tree sent from the Forest to live it or die alone outside of the realms of this peaceful land.”

The Kokiri children sat in awe of what they had just heard. A Kokiri, killing two others. This was unheard of. An army, a Kokiri army, with swords, this was unheard of.

“Now, many of you would also of heard of a great legendary sword called the Kokiri Sword. Well, this tale contains that very sword. Our fabled sword has the power of love and anger within it. Something that Fino left imprinted on it. We have hid this sword away, for a time when we must use it. It’s never to be used by a Kokiri unless in times of great danger. As for the army, with the death in our own lands, the Great Deku Tree declared that it would have to be disbanded immediately. Nothing could vilify such actions.”

As the story was being retold to the latest generation of Kokiri’s, Fino continued to stagger, alone, from the Kokiri Forest. West he had travelled for decades. His fatigue was growing upon him. His eyes were slowly fading for blurred to black. The young, loved, and talented Kokiri left the land of the Kokiri and never had a chance of returning.

As his fatigue, and catatonia grew too great to handle. He slowly fell to the floor. As he looked up, he saw Jinoia. She was smiling at him, her lips were moving. “My love, it was not you. Pilik killed me. As he threw his weapon, he swung another and hit me. I always loved you. The stories were never true. I love you.” As Fino saw this, he laid in the middle of this unknown land. His head flat on the ground, finally resting.

His breathing slowly became shallow, as his head moved towards the West, he saw his love, and his stars were falling again. Their dance was more beautiful than ever. He lay there, his love calling. As he finally moved into the West.


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