Chapter 10: Tears of Healing
"Well, if we're going to find Esper, we'd better go soon." Damien wobbled as he attempted to stand, the room swimming as a wave of nausea washed over him. "Where's my sword?"
"Are you crazy?" Krix cried, grabbing his arm to steady him. "You can't even walk right now. What makes you think you can wield a sword?"
"I can walk, watch me." Damien made to take a step forward, but stopped. There was a girl standing outside the tent, watching them through the crack in the door. She blushed slightly as they caught sight of her, and entered the tent, avoiding their eyes.
"Sorry," she said quickly, "I heard voices." She lifted her head to look at Damien and smiled, sheepishly. "I'm glad you're awake. We were afraid you might be out for much longer."
Krix tugged on Damien's sleeve as the girl crossed to a table near his cot, fetching a new bandage for his cheek. "That's Mialee," he said, watching her. "She's Esper's sister. She helped cure your wound." The girl blushed again, twisting her finger in the ties of her apron. "You should really get some rest," the boy insisted. "Just for a little bit longer. You can't help the village if you can't even stay on a horse."
The girl glanced up, as though to say something, but seemed to decide against it. Damien stifled a groan as he sank back heavily onto the cot, rubbing his temple wearily. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't sleep at a time like this… The girl came over and sat next to him, beginning to peel off the soiled linen with careful hands. "I heard what you did for Conner, over by the river," she said as she worked, admiration clear in her voice. "I think you did a brave thing. Esper told me that the Wolfos cornered them while they were fetching water. Conner had wandered off by himself, and if you hadn't come when you did…" She shook her head sadly. "Esper hasn't been the same these past weeks. He gets this distant look in his eyes, and he can barely even look at me ever since my sister…" Her eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, before returning to the task at hand. "He would never have let his sons get in danger before. I'm afraid for him."
Damien and Krix said nothing, their thoughts elsewhere. Then the bandage came away, and Mialee gasped. Krix glanced up, and his eyes grew wide. "Damien! Your face… it's almost healed already!" It was true; the gashes were shallow and pale, not nearly as bad as they should be. "How could that happen?" The boy looked closely, kneeling next to Damien on the cot. "It's impossible!"
"I…" They looked over t Mialee, and the girl blushed again, fishing something out of her apron pocket. It was a small vial, full of a purplish-blue liquid. "I found it in the forest," she explained, holding it out for them to see. "They're fairy tears; my mother always said they had healing properties." She handed the vial to Damien, who examined it more closely. "I used a little on your wound. They said you had lost a lot of blood, and…" She looked at the floor. "I'm sorry. I wasn't sure what it would do, but…"
Damien shook his head reassuringly, handing the vial back. "Don't be sorry," he said. "If you hadn't, I might have been sleeping for days." She attempted a weak smile, then hastily set about preparing his new bandage.
Once she had it glued in place with a sort of sticky tree sap, she stood in front of them and smiled. "I'll find you two some supper," she said, "You must be hungry."
"Yeah!" Krix jumped up eagerly, but Damien seemed grim.
"We can't stay here much longer. The other Sheikahs still don't know about the black sheep."
Mialee looked shocked. "What do you mean?" she asked, looking from one boy to the other. Krix looked over at Damien, and he shook his head. It was too much to explain now.
"Later," he said, standing up carefully. "We need to get back to Kakariko, now." His head no longer hurt, and neither did the wound; the fairy tears were in effect again. "Mialee, we need you to come with us, to help with the villagers and the wounded. Where's my…?" Mialee moved to the table beside his bed, where a cloth bundle leaned against it. She handed it to him, pulling the cloth away to reveal his cloak and sword.
"You still need rest," she insisted as he buckled the sheath about his waist. "You won't be able to fight for long, especially after the long ride there."
"I will find the strength when I need it." Damien was surprised at how quickly the words came out of his mouth, without a thought. He had the mirror shard, and whoever was sharing his mind. He would be able to handle anything they had in store for him, even in his weakened state. Donning his cloak, he headed out the door, with Krix mere steps behind him. She followed them out, and stood still as they headed for the horses, still tied near a large tent on the other side of the camp. A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed nervously before calling out to them.
"Wait!" The boys looked around to see her hurrying towards them. "There is a faster way," she said, stopping beside them. She seemed almost hesitant. "You will have an advantage over the enemy. The others didn't think to use it; they can move quickly on foot, even over large distances."
"…What is it?" Damien didn't much like the indecision in her voice. She nodded, as if in decision, then led them over to a path that wound into the forest.
"It's this way," she said, pushing aside a branch to start down the path. "I'll lead you there." The two warriors looked at each other in uncertainty; they didn't like the sound of it, whatever it was. But Damien shrugged and stepped forward, leaving Krix to bring up the rear. They needed any advantage they could get.
Of course, now that they had a closer look, they weren't so sure. Krix paled visibly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Mialee stood smiling, almost reassuringly, beside what looked to be a gigantic, rather unattractive bird, that looked back at them with little interest. It was outfitted with a special saddle that criss-crossed over its chest and its shoulders, leaving plenty of room for the wings to move. It also had a sort of goatee that sprouted from the underside of its beak, which made it look a bit like an old man. "It's all right, he's really quite friendly," Mialee insisted, panting a giant wing. The bird glared down its beak at them, resting its chin on the ground. "He only listens to Esper and I. We found him being attacked by hunters and drove them off, and even since he's been living here near the camp, where we bring him food. He's waiting to pay us back for helping him, but we haven't needed him until now."
The boys didn't seem very reassured, but took cautious steps forward, coming as close as they dared. Mialee nimbly climbed up the wing and into the saddle, sitting comfortably on the bird's back. "Come on," she said, waving them up. "It's alright." This was the first time she had shown a shred of confidence since they met her; they decided to trust her judgment, if only for now. Damien climbed up first, followed by Krix, and she showed them how to sit in the saddle. Once they were seated correctly, she turned and whistled at the bird. "All ready? Let's go! Fly, Orol! To Kakariko!" The bird surged below them, provoking startled cries from the boys as it rose to its feet, spreading its enormous wings. It shook them for a bit, stretching them after its long rest, then crouched low and jumped, surging upwards at incredible speed.
All the breath was forced back down their throats as gravity held desperately onto them, slowly losing its grip as they ascended higher, and finally they broke through the canopy of the forest, which became a sea of green below them, with a perfectly blue sky over and around them. With a flap of its mighty wings, the bird glided forward, eyes half closed in contentment as it felt the wind through its feathers, banking a bit to the right and left to let the breeze roll off either wing. Mialee laughed happily, thrilled by the ride, while behind her the boys held onto the saddle for dear life, Damien's eyes wide and knuckles white, and Krix with eyes squeezed shut and looking a little green.
But it was a smooth ride, and as night began to fall around them, a sunset lit up the sky with orange and yellow, staining the clouds above and the trees below all the colors of autumn. They flew on in silence for a while, and Krix was soon asleep, leaning against Damien's back but not loosening his grip. The Hylian didn't mind; in fact, he wished he could nod off himself, but though his tired eyes burned, his nerves kept them open. He was worried, expecting any second that the trees would roll back below him, revealing a charred, lifeless Kakariko, its brave defenders merely corpses cooling on the charred field. Mialee seemed restless as well; she fidgeted in her seat, never taking her attention off of the horizon ahead of them.
Finally she turned to face Damien, her expression worried. "You said something about a black sheep earlier…" she said, finding it hard to meet his eyes. "What did you mean?"
He felt a twinge of guilt pulling at a knot in his stomach. "Not now," he said, his expression troubled. "I'll explain later. Don't worry," he added hastily, seeing her distress deepen. "We'll take care of it, Krix and I. We'll set everything right." She hesitated, then nodded slowly, turning back towards the front. He felt the knot pull tighter. Why did he think he could fix everything? They might already be too late. Shaking his head, he put the thought out of his mind. There was still hope; there was always hope.
After some time, they saw the forest thinning out below them, and the rolling hills of Hyrule Field dark and bleak in the distance. The sun had sunk well below the horizon, and darkness was falling. In the distance, pinpoints of lights danced and darted through the air like glowing insects. The trio came in low and fast, and the black hole in the foothills that was Kakariko approached out of the darkness.
Damien felt a stab of fear; there was a giant blaze near the west end of the village. "The barricade! It's burning!" Krix looked up at the sound of his voice, and grabbed fistfuls of the bird's feathers in shock and panic when he realized where he was. "We're too late!"
"No!" Damien looked at Mialee in surprise, and saw her reaching into a large bag tied to the saddle. There were two, one on either side, and both were stuffed with something. "We can still turn the tides. Here, take this." She handed him a large, round object, and he stiffened. Looking at her in dread, he watched her pull one out for herself.
"We're going to drop bombs on them?" he asked, feeling the knot in his stomach return.
"We have to do something." Mialee patted her pockets, searching for something. "Oh no…" she muttered, growing more frantic as they drew nearer to the fighting, "… where'd I put my flint?" Damien gulped. Goddesses, don't let us die here on the back of a giant bird in a fiery explosion, please, he thought up at the clouds. Glancing down at the ground, he wondered if he would be able hit anything from the back of a moving bird, in complete darkness.
They entered the range of the arrows before they realized, and there was a shout of warning below them as they caught the enemy's attention. There was a shrill whistling as a flaming projectile shot up to meet them, but before they could react or even cry out, there was a blur beside them; the bird lurched as Krix landed on its neck, and in a flash, his hand leapt out, the whistling silenced. Turning back towards Mialee, he grinned as he offered her the arrow, still burning as he held it between two fingers. Looking up, she smiled in pleasant surprise and accepted. "Thank you," she said, touching the flame to the end of the bomb's fuse. It lit, and she dropped it as they passed over the archers below, watching it plummet to the ground.
BOOM!The bird screeched in terror as an explosion rocked the air around them, bright light briefly illuminating the ground below. Damien caught a short glimpse and sucked in a sharp breath; scores of vagabonds, thieves, and cutthroats were swarming the east barricade, all under Gerudo flags. They vastly outnumbered the defenders in the village. "Hey!" He felt an elbow in his side and looked up, and saw Mialee offering him the flaming arrow. Steeling himself, he took it, lit his bomb and pitched it as hard as he could, aiming for a spot where he had seen the attackers more densely packed.
BOOM! The explosion was just as loud as the last, and the bird screamed again, lurching nervously in the air so that Krix almost fell off. But Mialee never flinched; she turned the bird back around for another swoop, she and Damien working in tandem to drops bombs into their swarming ranks. Droves of arrows surged up towards them between explosions, but Krix bobbed and weaved along the bird's shoulders, slicing at those that came in reach. The army below was panicked and taking damage; the men were breaking rank and scattering like frightened ants. But the attack on the barricade held; they couldn't risk a bomb there for fear of hitting their allies.
The bird began to grow frantic. It could not handle the noise and lights for long. It bucked and swerved, squawking piteously. One bomb fell too close, and it lost its head, diving in its rage to snap at them with its beak, clawing and grabbing with its giant talons before pulling back up, dropping men from great heights and diving again. Krix lost his balance and fell back, clinging onto its neck feathers for dear life as a fresh wave of arrows rained down on them, singing in deadly harmony. One found its mark, and Damien's heart jumped into his throat as he saw the arrow shaft bury itself in one of the bomb bags. Drawing his sword, he screamed out, "Fly higher!" and as they lurched up into the air, he cut the bag free with a sharp slice of the blade. He watched it fall slowly to the ground, and realized in horror that they weren't going to make it.
The blast was like an erupting volcano, sending ripples of sound and heat through the air. A horrible roaring filled their ears as fire and earth blasted them from underneath, sending them reeling through space over the battlefield. They plummeted towards the ground, screams caught in their throats as they fell hard and fast. Squawking franticly, the bird attempted to right itself, fluttering franticly as a fresh rain of arrows peppered its wings. Mialee, who had miraculously managed to stay in the saddle, shouted to it to pull up; it righted itself clumsily, swiftly fleeing from the battle.
Damien had managed to grab the side of the saddle, and started to pull himself back up, dangling off the side of the bird. He glanced over his shoulder, back towards the fighting, and spotted a glint of light, not far off. It lingered before his eyes for a moment, shifting, singing over the chaos of battle, its siren call filling his ears as it grew farther away. His breath caught in his throat as dread seized him; he pulled himself up, grabbing Mialee's shoulder. "Wait!" he said quickly, looking back to make sure he could see it. "Turn back around!"
Mialee looked at him incredulously. "We can't go back! They'll kill us!!"
"Just do it. Fly low, that way. I'll jump off."
"Jump off?! And do what?!"
"I spotted their leader earlier, and I can see him now. If I take down the leader, they'll panic and run. Trust me!" Mialee frowned back at him, uncertain. She glanced at Krix, who was clinging tightly to the bird's neck, and the boy nodded firmly. Mialee gulped; the bird banked left, and they swerved back towards the crowd.
"You two get back to Kakariko," Damien said, loosening his sword in its sheath. "They can't hold up on their own. Pull everyone back and defend what's left." He sat sideways in the saddle, getting ready as they dived over the heads of the thieves below. He felt a hand on his arm, and looked around to see Mialee watching with a fearful, almost pleading expression.
"You sure you know what you're doing?" Her voice was quiet and slightly shaky. He laughed ironically, smiling a half-smile but meeting her gaze with confidence.
"As sure as I ever am." She nodded, eyes misty, and faced forward. The glint drew close; in moments he was gone, falling towards the ground. The scrape of steel on leather as he drew his sword, the crunch of breaking bones as he broke his fall on an enemy's spine; the thieves around him fell before they saw him, the air red with blood as his blade danced among them, cutting graceful shining arcs in the night in the flickering firelight. When he stopped, a ring of cooling bodies lay around him, the ground squelching with their blood as he stepped forward, towards the tall figure standing in amusement before him.
The man was slender but strong, sizing him up with cruel dark eyes behind a shock of pale hair. He wore dark leather armor with heavy studs, nothing like the rags worn by the rabble he commanded. Damien recognized him as the man who had posed as a Sheikah and carried off Ganondorf. The source of the light he'd seen was soon apparent; there was a mirror shard hanging from a chain around the man's neck.
The imposter smiled slightly as he approached. "That was quite a display," he said, sounding almost impressed. "I haven't seen skill like yours in a Hylian before." He reached for a large sword stuck in the ground beside him, hefting it as though it weighed no more than a tree branch. "It's a shame that I have to kill you." The man tossed aside his cloak, letting it float to the ground like a red wraith as he took a wide stance. Crouching, he raised the sword to eye level and charged, moving towards Damien with incredible speed.
The Hylian barely had time to dodge, feeling wind ruffle his hair as the man attacked, swinging his blade down to slice him in half. It thudded hard into the ground, leaving the man open to attack, and Damien countered quickly, lunging to sink his blade through a crack in the man's armor for a quick kill.
The sword met nothing, waving pointlessly in empty air. He wavered off balanced, alarmed to find that his target had vanished in a moment, gone. Glancing around, he caught a glimpse of movement behind him; a pair of very heavy boots connected with his back, throwing him forward to crash and sprawl on the ground, his whole body screaming in agony. He lay there paralyzed, struggling to get his unresponsive body to move. A heavy hand slammed into the back of his head, yanking him up by his hair. The man's eyes bore into him as he lifted his sword, leveling it under Damien's chin, his face distorted into a kind of sick grimace. "I guess you're not much against a real warrior," he snarled, bringing the sword back. "Oh well."
A glint. Damien stared through the spots in his vision. Light. The mirror shard swung from its chain, taunting him, dancing in front of his eyes. So close… He plunged his hand into his pocket, searching. His fingertip brushed against something sharp, stinging and slicing open, and he grabbed it, feeling the cool smooth surface against his palm.
Blood leapt on the air. The man stared in horror; Damien snarled darkly up at him, hands and eyes red, bloody fingers clenched around the hilt of his own sword; the blade was buried nearly to the hilt inside the man's chest, broken clean through the armor and out the back. A sharp yank and the sword came free, swinging up to smack his face with the pommel, crushing his nose. He stumbled back with a sharp cry, but was tripped, sending him crashing to the ground.
The hand clutching his shattered nose covered his eyes; he listened in darkness as slow, deliberate footsteps could be heard over his own raspy breathing, coming ever closer. His hand was brushed aside, and above him stood a demon with glowing eyes, holding an enormous sword to his neck. He shook like a child as the demon placed a heavy foot on the man's chest, pinning him down. "You're no warrior," Damien snarled, bringing the blade back. "And you're not fit to wear my mirror shard."
There was a sickening squelch as the sword thudded into the blood-soaked earth. The man's severed head rolled back, blank eyes staring forever into the inky black sky above him as Damien pulled the chain from around his stump of a neck, holding the shard in his palm with the other piece. He smirked to himself, wrapping his fingers tighter around the shattered glass. The red tint faded from his eyes, and he sank to the grass, lying still as weariness overwhelmed him, pulling him into a deep, dark sleep.
To Be Continued…
A/N: I know, another ridiculously late update. This chapter was actually extremely hard to write, though I've no idea why. I think I edited it more than I've ever edited a chapter before, and I'm still not satisfied for some reason. Still, here it is. I'm going to stick with it and finish this story, and hopefully update at least once a month.