It's been six days since Lorelei began to practice with Link's sword, and, like Link, she's shown unusually rapid progression. Copparman watched some of these displays with quiet approval, taking in what little he didn't already know.
Her progress is good, yes, but Link is worried. For the past six days, the red mist following their trail has been edging closer and closer, following their campsites earlier and earlier in the day.
She'll have a taste of real battle soon; I'll take the reins for whatever fight these mist-people wage, and she can decide whether she wants to continue training afterword. Assuming, of course, we survive.
As if the approaching danger of the red mist wasn't troubling enough, their supplies are once again nearing depletion; the cactus water, though distasteful and sour, held them through the week, but the desert has once again thickened into a vast sandstretch with no visible life, cactus or otherwise. As Link had feared, they had to eat cooked cactus when his jerky was gone, but only a few pieces of that remain.
Three days, if we're lucky.
The Durnspine mountains are looming giants in the sky now, still distant but much clearer than before.
Eventually the heat and conservation of resources drives the group to silence. Lorelei stops practicing for now, saving her energy for the increasingly arduous journey to the north.
It is on the last of Link's three predicted days that the Mist Warriors choose to attack.
Parched and hungry, they shuffle on in dry silence, nearing the end of the day. They are almost at the base of the mountains, and they can see rising smoke in the distance.
Link notices the mist descending from the orange sky first; he shouts to Copparman and Lorelei, drawing his sword with his right.
They wait.
The mist falls around them.
Figures, undecipherable in the red fog, emerge.
Two.
Four.
Eight... Ten.
Suddenly, as if blown by a heavy breeze, the mist flows away and dissapates. Surrounding them in a wide half-circle, ten hooded, robed men wielding sword and shield stand. A bone-white circle tabard, with a dot marking in the circle's center, is the only feature on the robes they wear. In front of Epona and Lorelei, Copparman and Link tense, awaiting the battlerush. Lorelei clutches Epona's neck, terrified. "Mr. Link, Mr. Link... That's them, the ones who attacked Crun..."
One man near the center steps forward, brandishing a longsword at Link. "You. Hero of Time. We've been watching you."
Hero of Time? They know who I am?
But Link says nothing, dropping into a defensive stance. These people are the last ones he'll show any sense of surprise to.
The man is undeterred. "We are emmisaries of the God-King Burlington. His Mightiness sent us to collect you, so He may speak to you; we recommend you come with us."
One long moment passes, dusty wind blowing Link's hair and sweat across his face.
The man steps back alongside his fellows. "So be it, Hero of Time. You need not legs for the travel."
Suddenly, they charge, roaring unidentifiable words, as if possessed by psychotic rage.
Ironically, the first one to attack Link leaves his legs open; Link ducks his blow and cuts them off at the knees, forcing the man backward into the attacker behind him. Link slashes to his side in quick arcs; the first two are deflected by one of the soldiers, but the third hits home, cutting the man from his throat to his chest, covering Link with spurting blood. He brings the sword back to his center, catching the just-recovered soldier behind the first one by the neck, slitting his throat wide open. Another to Link's left manages to break past his parrying defence, landing a deep blow to Link's leg, forcing him back.
Copparman is fighting like a wild-man, ending the lives of two robed warriors at once with his simple kitchen knife; he kicked one of the soldiers square in the chest, knocking him into his allies. He then catches the soldier behind him by surprise, plunging his knife into the man's chest. Pulling it out, he drops onto the first soldier, slicing his throat, before a shield bashes him in the face, knocking him sprawling.
Link drags himself to Copparman's aid, fighting off the attackers with increasing strain. He realises that Epona and Lorelei are no longer near them, nor were they when they charged...
... At that exact moment, Lorelei charges Epona into the horde mobbing Link and Copparman.
Link sees a blade swipe in from his right, too quick to parry, and feels the impact hit his ribs, though only glancing. Link needn't wonder why; Epona tramples the man before he can drive the blade deep enough to cause any serious damage, knocking down two others with them as Epona charges onward. Epona's attack gives enough of a distraction for Link; he takes a furious offensive, arcing his blade toward one of the stunned men. He catches him on the nape of the neck, slicing his throat vertically and sending him flying backward.
Copparman is up again, and so are the remaining four soldiers. They redouble their attack, seemingly unaware of the losses they suffered. Link, seeing Epona in the corner of his vision preparing for another charge, yells for Copparman to give ground, doing the same. Copparman gets the cue and falls back with him, parrying and dodging attacks the marauders throw at them. Epona shoots toward them again, catching two of them off-guard. As they roll into the dirt, one of the remaining two strikes out at the horse, slicing into one of her thighs deeply. The horse gives a cry of pain, and tumbles violently to the ground. Seeing this, both Link and Copparman retaliate furiously; Copparman slices Epona's attacker's hand off, finishing the job with a stab through the eyesocket out the back of his head. Link kicks the raised shield of the soldier directly beside him, forcing him backward, losing his balance. Link pushes through the man's compromised defence and rams his sword through the bottom of his chin, pushing it up out the top of his head.
The last two, recovering from Epona's second charge, rush back toward Copparman and Link. Exhausted as they are, the two can do little but rebound the relentless assaults made by the soldiers. Copparman is struck through the leg, letting out a howl of pain.
Link takes a heavy blow to his back, deflected by his shield, but strong enough to shoot pain through his spine. He manages to stab the attacker in his sword arm. Wrenching his blade
sideways, he tears a gaping hole in the man's forearm. Before he can scream in agony, Link lops the man's head off.
Copparman fares no better; brought to his knees by the blinding pain in his lower leg, the man swings his large blade in a wide arc, planning on beheading him. Copparman ducks, the blade
missing him by millimeters. He brings his knife up with both hands, embedding it in the man's abdomen. He pulls, and hot gore explodes out of the soldier's belly. He screams, crumbling to the
ground.
Link and Copparman have only enough time to look at Lorelei, unconscious and pinned by Epona's weight, and each other, covered in the blood of their enemies and themselves, before
blackness takes them both.
Drift.
Dream.
Green.
The world swims in fluid, fading and growing and fading and growing. Hazy clouds move around him as his blood drains. One forms into a shape he recognises well. He feels water being drawn across his face and his wounds, warm and soothing. The grain burning his vision slowly fades, and he regains rough grounding on reality.
He almost loses it again when he sees who's tending him.
Saria!
But the image boils, reforms.
No, not Saria, but close in resemblance; the girl's hair is cut short at her jawline, mousy brown, with skin a shade lighter than Lorelei's. Her eyes, large and expressive, are narrowed in concern over Link, a soft shade of light brown.
"You're awake; welcome back."
Link's good arm darts to his head, a dull ache hammering inside.
"Wh... Where am I?" He refocuses on the girl. Older than him, but not by much; slender and athletic, she looks to be as tall as Link himself. Seeing him awake, the girl smiles.
"You're in Osov, stranger, a mountain town on the border of Burzia. And lucky to be alive too, I might add."
"My friends?" Link tries to get up, but the girl pushes him back down.
"You stay there, you're in no shape to be running around," she responds with sternness that reminds him of Malon, helping him recover after each temple raid. "Your friends are fine, for the most part; no worse than you are right now, anyways. But you've lost a lot of blood; you nearly died on the way back here. What's your name?"
Link looks around. A room, a small one, modestly decorated but well looked-after, with a dresser and the bed he lay on. The girl sat on his bed, well dressed in light leather and cotton, watching him. A wooden bowl lay on her lap, half filled with water, a cloth lying inside.
"It's Link." He shifts uncomfortably under the girl's gaze, the boy in him still shy of such attention.
"Well, Link, I'm Alyssa," she flashes Link another sunny smile. "My father's scouts found you and your friends half a day into the desert, and brought you here."
The dull pain in his head spikes, forcing a gasp and a wince from Link; memories of the fight come rushing back in a flurry of violence and gore. Alyssa tips her head to the side, wearing that Malon-ish look of concern again. "You alright?"
Link shakes his head slightly, and looks up into Alyssa's eyes.
"Headache." He lays back on the soft down pillow, feeling his sore head sink into it.
"I'm going to go check on your friends. Try to get some rest, okay?"
Link doesn't look up, feeling the exhaustion roll around his body; he gives the girl a weary thumbs-up with his good hand.
As soon as he hears the door shut, he lifts himself slowly from the pillow to a sitting position on the bed, revealing a myriad of bandages covering his chest and abdomen. His tunic and hat are off, as well as his sword and shield; he scans the room more thoroughly, finding them beside the bed, his tunic folded neatly atop his shield, his hat on top of the tunic, his sword leaning on the bed to the right of them.
How did they know he was the Hero of Time? And this God-King, what was his name? Burlington, yes. He wanted to 'speak' with Link, sending a mob of bloodthirsty neophytes, wearing the same clothing of those that ransacked the town of Crun, to 'collect' him? This Clan wants him, not Copparman.
It would have to be someone with foresight like Zelda had, to know who I was. Could it be this 'demon' is connected to the Clan, maybe even controlling it? Possibly this demon is the God-King himself. That would make sense; a violent clan of zealots being influenced by evil. Something I've seen before. But, perhaps, on a scale I haven't seen, if Copparman's right.
And now, Link sits in some mountain village, rescued by this young girl Alyssa's father, whomever that may be. One thing is for certain; he has to leave this town as soon as possible. Those soldiers, they weren't well trained at all; definitely not of those that decimated a town and left within a matter of days. This 'God-King', I don't understand his tactics... Wiping out a whole town for gods know why, yet sending those idiots to die by our hands? It makes no sense...
Link sighs, wincing at the pain in his side from such a deep breath. Well, we'll have to stay here for a few days to recover, there's no getting around that.
He lifts himself up off the bed with great difficulty. Slowly and painfully he slips his tunic on, equips his gear, and motions to the door. His step is too wide; pain flares through his spine, hitting a bell at the top of his head. Cursing, nearly falling, he manages to hug the doorframe for support.
A narrow corridor extends to his right, ending at the wall immediately to his left. Opposite him is another door, halfway ajar. Talking emanates from the room; a lithe, quiet voice and a lower, huskier voice. More carefully, Link makes it across the corridor and walks in.
Lorelei and Copparman are sitting on their respective beds, chatting. They look up to a heavily bandaged Link, fully dressed.
"Well, yeh're up den? Bou' bleedin' time, mate," says Copparman. "We've been 'ere two days already, wai'in for ye to wake up." Copparman is cleaned up, as well as bandaged; his hair and beard have been trimmed to a respectable length, his body clean for the first time since they met. He could almost pass for a respectable, in the right wardrobe, if it wasn't for his accumulation of scars. Lorelei, on the other hand, changed little; Epona's crash knocked her out and caused bruising, but little else.
Epona. "Copparman, is my horse okay?"
Copparman looks to Lorelei; her eyes darken. "I was awake when the scouts came and took us. Epona had lost a lot of blood, the cut on her leg was a deep one." Link feels the lightning pangs of dread rupturing his sight with sparking orbs. Couldn't be... Not Epona... "Mr. Link, they tried everything they could, but she just lost too much blood. She's out back in the barn, the villagers wanted to wait until you were awake."
At that, Link turns on his heels and bolts out of the room. "Mr. Link? Mr. Link!" But Lorelei's shouts echo not in his weary mind, reeling from yet another loss. He tears down the stairs at the end of the hallway, ignoring the screaming pain in his body, rushing for the exit. A flurry of distorted rooms and faces fly by him, but he doesn't care; he needs to see Epona, his friend and companion, for better or worse. He storms outside, head turning left and right. A stable and barn is a ways away to the left, and he takes off for it.
He is greeted by a startled Alyssa and a stablehand. Against his will, his mind shifts momentarily to take a good look at her; as he thought, Alyssa is about Link's height, quite beautiful against the torchlight. Shaking himself from the moment, he struggles to control his voice. "Where is my horse?" In her face burns a familiar anger that would terrify most men, another resemblance to Malon. "What are you doing? You were an inch from dying only a day ago!" Link, still numb, reiterates his question, as if she didn't hear him. Alyssa sighs, her eyes shifting to the dark stall to her side. "She was a fighter, the poor thing," her eyes dart back to Link, blazing. "But now's not the time for that. What did I tell you? Your wounds have broken open again!" Surely enough, bloody roses begin to bloom on his cleaned tunic. At that moment, his body strikes back at his idiocy with a vengeance. Pain erupts from every part of his body in a wave of shredding agony. He collapses.