Depths of the Yiga

Chapter 10

Merciful Hand

The forest was quiet at night. She was curled up in a tree as she watched the stars move through the branches, listening to the hoot of an owl nearby and the wind rustling the leaves. It was peaceful, a feeling she hadn't been accustomed to in a while. She closed her eyes, listened to the sounds of the forest, and tried to force the mental image of a Yiga Footsoldiers sent flying by a single blow out of her mind.

He could have killed them. She thought. I mean, Footsoldiers aren't exactly the hardiest fighters around… but if any more force had been put into that blow the Yiga would be short one soldier. Why did he spare him? We've been trying to kill him for months and he still shows the assassins mercy.

Clementa watched the heavens with sadness. A warrior like the Hero didn't get to live if he did, Sheikah interference or no, by being merciful. He's had to have killed someone before. She thought. It's inconceivable to have fought so long yet shed no blood…

A flash of red caught her eye. She peered through the branches to see a Blood Moon rising. Clementa shivered at the sight of it. The other Yiga loved it, claiming it to be a physical manifestation of Ganon's power. But for some reason she had always loathed the sight of that ugly red corrupting the heavens with its light.

She sighed and stretched, rolling out of the branches with ease and landing gently on the forest floor. They were back outside Kakariko village. She'd left Amencer stabled at Dueling Cliffs stable, knowing there was no other way in and out of the village. At least, not without climbing several cliffs. She didn't know what brought the hero here this time, but she still stayed well outside the village bounds. Even if the warm light of the lanterns and the flowing sounds of the waterfalls sounded more inviting than before. She wondered, for a moment, if the village would be willing to accept her back just as they had accepted Dorian…

But then there would be two people in the village under the Yiga's thumb. She thought sadly. They don't let go of their soldiers that easily…

"Shi Liu."

She jumped, practically flying out of her disguise. She turned around to see a Blademaster standing behind her in the shadows. "Why do you cling to that pathetic disguise?" The Blademaster asked.

"My apologies." She said, turning back to her Yiga uniform in a puff of smoke. "I did not wish to incur the wrath of the Sheikah by being so bold close to the village border."

"Their wrath?" The Blademaster said with a dry laugh. "The Sheikah are like an elderly wolf, their sharp teeth nothing but weak gums."

"As you say, sir." She replied. It took all her strength not to tremble in fear. While the rest of the Footsoldiers cowered at the feet of Khoga, in truth it was the Blademasters that she truly feared. They who had been part of the clan since birth, and were devout in every facet of Yiga law. "What brings you to Necluda?"

"Some matters to attend to regarding the actions of the Hero…And you." The Blademaster said slowly. The windcleaver he carried glinted menacingly in the light of the Blood Moon.

"Regarding me, sir?" She asked, fighting to keep the fear out of her voice.

"Yes. Khoga recognizes that your mission tracking the hero and monitoring his actions is…commendable." The Blademaster said. A chill went down her spine. She had started her reconnaissance of the Hero of her own action instead of following orders, and she'd known in the pit of her stomach that it would not be looked upon kindly by the Blademasters. "However, that ends now. Khoga has assigned you a new mission, one that is to be carried out at once."

She wanted to object. Oh, how she did. But she knew that she had long run out of excuses. "Yes sir." She said. Her voice was level, neutral, hiding the turmoil that hid beneath the surface. "What is my new mission?"

"You may already be aware that we have a spy amongst the Sheikah." The Blademaster said.

"I was unaware." She said, glad that the mask hid the surprise on her face. A defector, that she knew. But a spy…?

"We have traded the information regarding the Hero that he provides us in exchange for his family's safety." The Blademaster continued. "However, our agreement will soon come to an end. We've coerced him into stealing a precious Sheikah artifact for us. I will be meeting him tonight to retrieve the artifact. You will be infiltrating his home and killing his progeny. Such is the price for betraying the Yiga."

No. The pit of her stomach froze. She'd already had a feeling as to who the spy would be, but… "His usefulness has come to an end?"

"Indeed. Between him and your reconnaissance, we have everything we need to know about the Hero. He will fall before the might of the Yiga soon enough."

Oh, I sincerely doubt that. She thought privately. If you would listen to the song of your Footsoldiers, you would be hearing a different tune entirely.

"And what of the spy?" She asked, although she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

"If the Sheikah are lucky, they will find his body in the morning." The Blademaster told her. "The price of betrayal is death. That is the Way of the Yiga. Any more questions?"

"Only one." She said, fighting the rising terror. "What interest of the Yiga have in this Sheikah artifact?"

"The artifact benefits us none." The Blademaster replied. "But keeping it out of the hands of the Hero is essential. We have also stolen the Thunder helm from the Gerudo in this same line of interest. It would be the only thing that could protect him from the wrath of Vah Naboris."

Well now you've done it. She thought. She knew the Helm going missing would not only stir the anger of the Gerudo, but also the Hero when the time came to free Vah Naboris. All you've done is invite the Hero to break down the front door.

"Is something wrong?" The Blademaster asked. He must have noticed her discomfort.

"No, sir." She said, shaking the lingering thoughts. "Any standing orders after the mission is complete?"

"Return to the Yiga Hideout." The Blademaster replied. "Master Khoga would like to have an in-depth discussion regarding your actions during your reconnaissance."

She wasn't sure which scared her more; the Hero or returning to face her fellow Yiga.

"Now go." The Blademaster said, tossing a Mighty Banana at her. "Strike when the Blood Moon reaches its peak. May the Sheikah tremble in fear of the Yiga."

"Yes Sir." She said, and vanished into the night before the Blademaster could say anything more. She made all speed towards Kakariko village, hoping the movement would belay the trembling in her hands. She looked to the sky as the Blood Moon continued to climb. It had been appearing more frequently as the Hero continued his trek across Hyrule and Ganon reclaimed his strength. The battle would be reaching its peak soon. Something would have to give.

She reached the peak of the hill and looked down upon the village. Never had the lanterns appeared so inviting. She could see the last of the Sheikah returning to their homes, watching the sky warily as they closed the doors behind them. Movement from the porch of the Matriarch's house caught her eye. Carefully, she pulled out her spyglass and focused it. It was Paya.

She was standing, watching the village sadly. She could see the mark of the Sheikah tattooed on her face. She hadn't had that when the rest of her peers had left the village four years ago. She must have donned that after we left. She thought to herself. Funny… We all left the village in search of strength, but I think Paya was the strongest of us all. Not just anyone can be so devout after being abandoned by almost everyone.

She collapsed the spyglass and put it away, then crept carefully down the hill. Dorian's house sat at the bottom, the windows dark. She ducked behind the Shine that had long watched over the village as Dorian himself climbed the hill towards the forest where the Blademaster waited. It took all her restraint not to reach out and warn Dorian of the impending doom before him. If he reacted, he would be slain all the faster. But she hated the feeling of helplessness that invaded her as she watched the proud soldier walk toward his death. She didn't know why she cared so much- He was a traitor, after all-but she didn't want to see him die.

Or the children that were supposed to fall under her blade.

She took a step away from the shrine, then vanished back under its shadow as another shape climbed the hill. It was hard to see in the darkness, but that blond hair was impossible to mistake after watching it for months. She watched as the Hero climbed the slope after Dorian. His subtlety left something to be desired, but he managed to follow the Sheikah without attracting too much attention.

Does he know about Dorian? She wondered as she watched him pass. I can't think of any other reason he would be sneaking up the hill in the dead of night. She didn't want to admit it, but she felt relieved. Dorian may stand a chance after all.

Stop that. She told herself. You're supposed to be a Yiga assassin. You're not supposed to care about your enemies. She pulled the Mighty Banana from her pouch and peeled it, distractedly taking a bite to calm her nerves and focus her mind. She immediately spat it back out, resisting the urge to vomit. It had tasted like poison in her mouth. She squinted and inspected it in the light of the Blood Moon. It looked normal, at least at first. It felt a bit softer than the ones she had found in the Faron region. Then a wisp of purple appeared, winding its way around the banana before disappearing back inside. She dropped the banana in shock and disgust. Of course, the Yiga's Bananas would be laced with Ganon's Malice. She thought. How else do you keep a bunch of rebel teenagers in line? She gingerly picked up the banana and pitched it as far away from the village as she could. No one needed that in their life, and she Didn't need the strength the Mighty Banana gave her anyway. She stepped away from the shadows again and slid down the hill to Dorian's house. He'd left a window open carelessly. She slipped in easily, leaving it open behind her for an easy escape.

The house was silent. The hearth sat empty, the fire nothing more than embers. She could smell the scent of honey and apples in the air-Clementa's favorite dessert. She shook her head to focus and pulled the Sickle from its holster as she quietly climbed the stairs to the upper floor where she knew the family slept.

The children were by the window, the Blood Moon casting a red tint across the floor. She crept forward, the handle of the blade growing slick with sweat in her hand. It's not hard. She lied to herself. Just two quick swings, they won't feel anything, and the Yiga will welcome you back with open arms…

Will they? That pesky, persistent voice asked in the back of her mind. Do you really think they will accept you as a Yiga after everything you've done? After what you have become?

She froze, the blade trembling in her hand. She didn't talk like a Yiga, didn't wait by the roadside for her prey to walk by, didn't eat Mighty Bananas anymore. Ganon's Malice repulsed her and the thought of sinking her blade into someone else's flesh… She wanted to drop it and run away, far away.

Do you think the Yiga will really let you be? Another voice asked in her mind. You know they won't. Kill them and they will welcome you back, or at least tolerate you. You can still be useful to them as a spy.

Dorian thought that too. The first voice said. And he's about to be killed. There's no point in trying to remain loyal to the Yiga. You don't think like them anymore. You're independent, resourceful, capable of critical thinking, likely a better fighter than most of the Footsoldiers at this point.

There are tons of Footsoldiers and assassins canvasing Hyrule to find the Hero. The second voice said. What makes you any different from them?

You acted where they all stand and wait. You fight while they hide in the stables and villages. You Think where they wait for orders. And when something is wrong you don't shrug it off. Face, it, you Aren't a Yiga anymore.

Yes, you are. The second voice said. Once a Yiga, always a Yiga. You can't escape the Clan, don't fight it.

Fight it. The first voice said. Fight it and keep fighting. Are you really going to be happy serving the Yiga for the rest of your life?

You won't have a rest of your life if you abandon the Yiga. The second voice pointed out.

ENOUGH. She told herself, shaking the voices out of her head. She crept forward, the sickle rising in the light of the blood moon. She looked down onto the faces of the two innocent, sleeping daughters of Dorian. Their gentle snores as they slept peacefully.

The little Sheikah doll, lovingly clutched by one of them, that She had made as a gift upon the birth of Koko.

I can't do it.

The sickle fell.

And was caught a second before it hit the floor and woke the little girls. A flurry of emotions flooded her as she sunk to her knees. Relief, fear, anger, despair… She understood in that Instant why the Hero never killed, even if it meant less people on his back and more security at night. In that instant, she knew that to kill was to take something innocent and beautiful and good and destroy it irrevocably with no remorse or recompense. She knew why the Yiga, heartless and cruel, hid behind their masks and false names and refused to give names to their targets, only labels to prevent familiarity and attachment. Even their own kind they labeled and categorized and hid behind masks of equal make and design anonymous to everyone but themselves.

The Yiga were killers. Killers of others and killers of themselves, turning what would have been a powerful band of individually skilled Sheikah warriors into weak Yiga Footsoldiers who could not be told from one another. The destroyers of the individual who themselves served the greatest destroyer of all, who left nothing in its wake but ash and ruin.

And she couldn't do it. To kill the two precious children of her mentor was not only to take two lives but also kill whatever burgeoning individuality she had developed over the months she had followed the Hero across Hyrule. Kill them and she became nothing more than another hand holding a sickle, a mask with no face, no name, no identity.

She looked up, Breath ragged. The Blood moon had passed, the silver light of the heavenly orb returned to its normal radiance. The girls slept soundly, unaware of the danger that had hung above their heads. She picked up the sickle and ran, fleeing silently down the stairs and out the window up the hill past the shrine and up the cliff that stood over the village. Only when she reached the top, standing in the light of the moon, did she stop and look back.

She could see two figures walking away from the forest, their voices inaudible but talking nonetheless. She breathed a faint sigh of relief. Dorian was safe. The she looked to the forest. If Dorian was alive, then it meant the Blademaster was either extremely wounded or dead. And she didn't dare go back into those shadows to find out. Instead she turned, practically flinging herself off the cliff as she climbed down, away from the village and fleeing north, far away from Sheikah and Yiga and the Blasted Hero who had brought all of this down upon her head.

She did the only thing she had ever been good at doing when danger pressed.

She ran.