Hale

The Temple of Worship was filled almost to capacity with men of all ages. There were quiet conversations going on all around him. Indistinct chatter, Hale could only catch bits and pieces of it. The echo inside the Temple was unlike any other chamber he'd ever been in. Hale swore that he could always hear voices inside, even when the temple was empty.

Some of the men Hale hadn't seen in months. Each patrol had their own systems and methods. The southern patrols would be out of the castle for weeks at a time. They'd come back tan and carrying more fruit than they ever could finish eating. The bananas were best after a fight, within a few minutes of finishing one Hale would be ready for another round.

The eastern patrols never brought back anything noteworthy. They always brought back an ample stock of rice, sometimes pumpkin, wheat, and maybe sugar. Never any wine or corn. The western patrols brought back the corn and Hale's favorite fruit: Hydromelon. It was delicious and was said to have a lot of nutritional value.

Those who patrolled the north faced the greatest challenges but reaped the greatest rewards. The northern part of the kingdom was mountainous, and at the heart of the great mountain range was an active volcano. The closer travelers got to the inferno, the more unbearable the mountain range was.

The race that inhabited the mountains, the Gorons, were known to be savages. Hale hadn't ever seen a Goron in person, but the patrolmen described them as inhuman, standing taller than ten feet and built like boulders. They were strong enough to rip a man's arm off, Hale thought of Deryk. The new Hylian monarchy had attempted to create diplomatic relations with the Gorons but weren't successful.

Hale could hear the hum of brass pipes growing closer. The body was about to be presented, the leader of the Demon Tribe was about to enter. The doors to the Temple opened and the pallbearers entered. Garrett had been placed inside of a dull wooden box. In all of the funerals the remains of Orlac's family were given the same courtesy as any other tribesman. They were decorated with a fresh tunic, in the appropriate color and every member of the tribe were given the opportunity to pay their final respects before the burial.

The drone of the pipes sounded more like a roar. He wanted to cover his ears, but now was not a time to show weakness. The procession stopped at the front of the temple and the pipes stopped. Hale rejoiced internally.

One by one, the men of the tribe paid their respects to the fallen. It came time for Hale to view the body. He felt uneasy as he drew closer to the casket. Mato had taken the punishment for Garrett's death, but Hale knew deep down it was more likely his own carelessness. The leader of the Demon Tribe stood by the casket and although he wasn't looking at Hale, he couldn't shake the feeling that Orlac was aware of his presence.

Orlac had cleaned his son's body and dressed him for the funeral. His lifeless face was fierce, his tunic was pressed and crisp. His sword was placed in his hands and laid across his body. Usually tribesmen forged their own swords, but as far as Hale knew Orlac's children never forged anything. Orlac gave the children their swords when they were kids.

The custom of the tribe demanded that their swords be buried with them. It was a beautiful sword, with a sharp edge and a pristine silver finish. The hilt was a pale blue. Orlac claimed in exchange for sparing the life of his lover, a Jayari fortune teller showed him a glimpse of the future: Four children, each wielding a magic sword. Orlac had always said the four children were to be his successors.

Whether or not the story was true, the prediction of the future didn't seem to be. If Orlac chose to he could make more children, but what made any of their swords magic? Maybe some kind of spell cast by the sorceress? He didn't like the fact that the sword was being buried with Garrett. He respected his leader and his fallen comrade, but good steel was good steel.

Once all of the members had a chance to pay their last respects, they departed the temple. The thunderous echoes ceased slowly behind them. The pallbearers were younger boys clad in blue, novices. The oldest might have been fourteen, a few years younger than Garrett although he always looked much younger. After the loss of Orlana, the leader of the tribe barred boys under the age of eighteen from the patrols.

By Hale's estimation he probably should have also barred anyone under eighteen from wearing a green tunic while he was at it but being the leader's kid was a position of privilege. The girl was certainly talented at her age, but still far too young to be wearing distinguished colors. Dastan was responsible for looking after her on that raid, Hale shuddered at the thought of what Orlac must have done to him. No foolish boys to take the fall for him.

The pallbearers lifted the casket, Hale followed behind them to the Steel Garden. Orlac and Grizo led the procession outside. It wasn't custom for the leader of the tribe to prepare bodies for burial, but he always did them the honor of burying them. The only exceptions were those dishonored. Hale had buried Mato himself away from the castle as if he were no better than a peasant.

The procession stopped once they arrived in the Steel Garden. The pallbearers slowly laid the casket onto the ground behind Din's statue. "Thank you, boys. You may all leave." Orlac said, motioning for them to vacate the Garden. "You as well, Hale." Orlac said to him. Hale walked away from the Garden as he was commanded.

Hours passed, it was almost nightfall. Hale sat in his chambers sharpening his sword. The easiest way for him to lose track of time was with his sword. Fighting with it, cleaning it, the world seemed to fade away when he held his weapon. Hale looked up from his sword when he saw a flicker of light catch his eye.

He turned his head to his left and saw Orlac standing in his doorway with a lantern. Hale rose to his feet. "My lord, I didn't expect you." He said nervously. "Sit down." Orlac commanded, entering the room.

Hale sat on his bed, Orlac stood before him. He could only imagine why the leader of the tribe was there. "I'm sorry I snapped at you the other day. I just couldn't believe Garrett was really gone. He was a good boy, strong and loyal to the tribe." Orlac said describing his son the way a soldier describes another soldier.

"It probably wasn't anyone's fault but his own that he died, but I just wasn't ready to accept that he could be so careless." Orlac said, confidently. Hale was stunned by Orlac's admission. "I came here to talk about you." Orlac said.

Hale wondered what Orlac meant. "Which enemy should you fear more, one that's beaten you in battle or one that is pretending to lose?" Orlac asked. Hale pondered the question, losing one battle didn't always prevent winning a war but more often than not if you lost battles you lost the war.

"Is that what Likra did? Play dead?" Hale asked, figuring that's where Orlac was going. "And when Garrett turned his back, he drove a sword right into it." Orlac said. Hale took Orlac's statement to mean he didn't believe Likra's quip about not killing anyone.

Orlac was generally wise enough to come to his senses when provoked, but his temper gets the best of him sometimes. Likra's jab must have been a lie to add insult to the wound of Orlac losing his son. "I need someone to succeed me in the event I pass before Brint is old enough to lead this tribe."

Orlac's words registered with Hale, he stood up involuntarily. "The entire tribe is complacent. The settlements have all been cooperative and we're getting soft." Orlac's words made a lot of sense. Hale was excited by the prospect of being more aggressive with the settlements.

Orlac raised his left hand and Hale saw the purple sash he was holding. "This is for you." Orlac said, running the purple sash over Hale's left shoulder opposite where he would normally sling his sword. Orlac raised his right hand, and Hale reciprocated.

"You've always been loyal, and a good friend. Once I'm gone, I can't think of any other man worthy of leading these men." The two men shook hands, Orlac pulled Hale in close. "Rinn Hale, has a nice ring to it doesn't it?" Orlac said and smiled. Orlac remained in the chamber once he released his grip.

"This new position comes with the burden of knowledge." Orlac said, and before he finished Hale's gaze was caught by Grizo entering his chamber. Hale had imagined her entering his chamber once or twice, but the real thing made the room uncomfortably cold. "The old fools biggest mistake is the best news we've gotten in a long time." Orlac said.

"What is that my lord?" Hale asked. "Queen Zelda's children may still be alive." Grizo answered. "Our entire purpose for seizing this worthless castle was to find Hylia reborn and use her blood to resurrect the Demon King." Grizo said, her voice smooth yet terrifying.

"By the time the blood moon came, her blood was worthless. The ritual accomplished nothing. We must need them alive for it work." Grizo said, disappointed. Hale wondered how she knew that was the reason the ritual failed, but he had seen her magic first hand. No doubt her magic was real, she would know better than Hale about this.

"I was certain it was my fault that we failed that day. I blamed myself for years for being too reckless with the killings. The lady Sheikah could have been lying to us when she identified the bodies. I should have had Ifga check them before they were burned." Orlac was always one for learning from his mistakes.

"Thanks to Likra, I have a good idea of where they may be hiding." Orlac said smiling. "Nulea?" Hale asked. Orlac nodded his head in affirmation.

"I'll prepare some men, we can leave at dawn." Hale said, but Orlac protested. "You're not going anywhere. You're going to look after things here while I'm gone. If you're ever going to be Rinn, you need to learn how to deal with the stuff that's not so exciting." Orlac said.

Hale's excitement turned to disappointment. The people of Nulea were not prepared for what was about to hit them.