I'M BACK, PEEPS.
Okay, I've got to stop uploading these once a month... I'll do my best to keep the train rolling when it comes to updates. I hope you can forgive me for my wonky upload schedule! Summer's just thrown things out of whack...
Anyway, I'll stop rambling. I hope that last chapter didn't horrify you too badly. Thank you for your wonderful patience through all of this and for your incredible support. It means the world to me and I love your feedback. :)
I hope you enjoy this next chapter! This one, I hope, is a decent follow-up to the last one. That was insane!
Link retched into the grass until his stomach shriveled. His breath, acrid with horror and bile, was little more than strangled wheezing as it slithered in and out of his ragged throat, barely satiating his lungs. In the aftermath of what he had seen — and what he had just done — his body and mind were wracked with an all-encompassing guilt that soured his blood and fragmented his psyche. Splayed across the ground, he shuddered against the poison running through his veins, his skull spiking to the bursts of his frantic heartbeat.
"Oh, god…!" he whispered between gasps. "Oh god, what have I done?! What have I done?!"
He couldn't seem to take control of his breath no matter how much he grasped for it — he was beginning to grow faint. Perched on his elbows, he averted his gaze from his own vomit, wincing against the wailing of every fiber of his body. Endeavoring to settle his flaming insides, he spat and wiped his mouth, flopping onto his back.
The cloud-choked sky seemed to frown upon him. Nevertheless, it was a respite from the devastation around and inside him; he stared blearily into the sky, tangling his fingers in his soaking hair, his mind flayed by what he had just done.
By all accounts, he was lucky to be alive. Izer hadn't held back by any means, and neither had the explosive Malice within him. But as Link lay there, choking on his own deeds, he didn't count himself lucky. No, he was cursing his survival, somewhat envying the man he had just annihilated.
What had he done? The question consumed him from the inside out… just as it had to Izer. Breathing heavily between his teeth, he clawed into his scalp, pinching his eyes shut. Try as he might to purge his mind of it all, he couldn't escape the memory of his own carnage. Visions of Izer seared into his brain like an ever-marching onslaught — from his manic swordplay, to his body breaking against the trees, to his garbled screaming as he reached for him, melting alive.
Each memory scalded his resolve, filling every corner of his mind and body like a cesspool. It all served to remind him of the demonic power lurking beneath his skin. It slept for the moment, but his gut writhed with white-hot anxiety at the next time it would rear its hideous head. He prayed with all his soul that that day would never come — that he would never harm anyone else with it. He wasn't sure how he could live with himself if it ever happened again.
Izer. His first… victim. The lingering smell of his remains — smoky and viscous, like singed meat — clogged his senses. Yes, Izer had been cruel, but even so, he hadn't deserved to die. Not like that. Not at Link's corrupted hand. It only dawned on Link then and there that he hadn't even known what Izer looked like — somehow, that fact worsened it all. How could he kill a man without ever seeing his face? What kind of inhuman creature did that make him? He was afraid he knew the answer.
"Oh my god…!" he repeated.
Link was so engrossed in his own horror that he had forgotten he wasn't alone. Out of the ghastly silence, a voice rasped, pulling him out of himself.
"...You destroyed him."
Link's heart nearly punched through his chest. Eyes flipping open, he sat bolt upright and whipped around. His spine seized up when his gaze found Dorian, pale as death, gaping at him from behind a tree a short distance away.
"You — !" Link gasped, his face contorting. He attempted to scramble to his feet, only for his knee to quickly remind him of his condition. Lightning darted up his leg and into his hip, paralyzing him. He crumbled onto his backside and leaned back, cupping his throbbing, deformed knee.
Locking his eyes on Dorian, he held up a quivering hand to stave him off. "Stay away from me!" he cried shakily, both as a warning, and as a desperate plea. "S-stay away!"
Dorian backed up a step, but not out of obedience; he feared whatever might burst out of Link next. He didn't want to end up like Izer.
His eyes wandered from the petrified creature before him to the surrounding wreckage, his jaw hanging open. It had been a spectacle, that fight. One that, for better or worse, he would never shake from his mind. He had been tempted to flee as soon as Izer and Link began exchanging blows, but found himself mystified by the two of them at arms. Unable to pry his eyes from the scene, he had taken cover and watched.
Twisted fascination held him there, but it was Izer's demise that petrified him into his place. The sight of a ruthless, unbreakable man like Izer begging for his own life numbed Dorian into a disturbed daze. What Link had done to him was, in every sickening aspect, unforgettable. Incredible, even, as Izer had put it. Dorian had never seen anything like it, and he sincerely prayed he never would again.
He stared for as long as he dared at Izer's empty uniform before he gulped and looked back to Link. "I was right about you all along," he murmured. "You really are a monster."
Monster. Monster. The word was like a branding iron on Link's brain. His hysteria reached a fever pitch at it, his blood igniting, all three of his eyes beaming with a wild light.
"And so what if you're right?!" he screamed, making Dorian jump. "That doesn't change what just happened! What I just did! NOTHING can, don't you get it?!" He waved an arm towards the Malice behind him. "Do you think I wanted this?! He didn't… he didn't deserve — !"
Suddenly breathless, Link found his gaze pulled over, like a magnet, back to the puddle that was the Yiga. He slapped a hand over his mouth, a wheeze of disgust wrenching his breath away.
That was his handiwork. He had done that. His stomach lurched again.
A thick, stifling silence settled upon the glade as Link fought to grasp his breath. "...Why?" he finally wheezed, slowly turning back to Dorian. He shook his head, beside himself. "Why did this have to happen? Why did you bring him here?!"
The stark terror in Link's eyes pierced Dorian to his core; he couldn't bring himself to meet his gaze, turning his eyes into his sandals. Though his gut fought it, he supposed there was no hiding it, then. Izer had said and done enough, just as he had.
Defeated, Dorian hung his head, muttering, "Because I am… a member of the Yiga Clan."
A spontaneous hole gored Link's stomach at the revelation. He remembered vividly Dorian's own description of them — he had called them vile dogs, slanderers, murderers, thieves. And Izer had proved him right. But Dorian… he couldn't be…?
He refused to believe it. Link recoiled, gawking, "What? No — no, you're lying. Y-you wouldn't do that. Not to Impa. Paya. Your daughters. You wouldn't." He stared Dorian down, convinced he was playing him for a crude joke. But he couldn't have been more wrong.
Beneath Link's gaze, Dorian suddenly lost the strength in his knees. He slumped against the tree. "...It was already done."
Link choked, gaping at him. The air around them transformed, sharpening — it sent a shiver up his spine. Words refused to come to him as he stared at the old man before him. It was like a bomb had gone off in his mind. Even with Izer gone, he suddenly feared he now had Dorian to contend with. Now that he knew his alignments, his body tensed in anticipation to flee — he just prayed he could get away with his bum leg.
Link never got the chance to risk an escape. He fell speechless as Dorian added, "Or... I used to be a member… before I deserted." His fist clenched and he wrinkled his nose. "I thought I had buried my demons. But the funny thing about demons is… they're like dogs. They come when they are called."
His words rattled Link's bones. "What are you saying?" he murmured.
A heavy moment of silence passed before Dorian could coax his tongue into speaking. It sat in his mouth, bitter and stubborn. Finally, and against his better judgement, he began to explain himself.
"The village turned on its head when you arrived," he said. "I hated it. I'm an old man, now, and… I've grown to hate change. In my anger, I thought that, if you were gone, things would go back to the way they were, when life made sense." His hand found his sling. "I couldn't run you out of Kakariko myself, and I was too impatient to see you through your stay, so… I turned to the Yiga. My old Clan. I wasn't even thinking of the consequences. I knew they would take you. I knew he would take you."
Both of their eyes trailed over to Izer's remains. Dorian glowered at them, grumbling, "It was never meant to be like this. I was a fool not to foresee his betrayal; he hasn't changed after all these years."
Link shivered, a chill creeping through his skin. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He looked upon the puddle, breathing, "...You knew him?"
For a moment, Dorian bit back the truth. He felt he had already said too much. But, like a flood, the ghosts of his past injected their venom into him, foaming his insides with the secret he had bottled up for over a decade. He stood numbly, his eyes on his feet, searching for something he couldn't find.
Link stared, his mind reeling, as the old Sheikah pursed his lips, releasing a sigh through his nose. He couldn't keep in the truth — not from Link. Not after what he had done. What they both had done. Before his pride could stop himself, Dorian began to open up to Link.
"Yes, I knew Izer," Dorian said, his voice flat. He then snorted darkly. "I was several years into my pact with the Yiga when he was born. His mother was slain by a Gerudo warrior before he had even learned to walk. We all stepped in, but the boy took a particular liking to me. We became friends. He was an eager child, and a fast learner. I showed him how to swing a sword, told him the stories that had been drilled into my head — stories of a fallen hero who would one day return." Link cowered under his gaze when he turned it on him. "Stories of you."
Stupefied by his words, Link's brain sparked to imagine Izer as a child among those people. Innocent, moldable. Corruptible. He supposed that growing up in the Yiga Clan had made Izer the man he was, and the thought of it haunted him. But it was the notion that Dorian had a hand in doing so that made him even more sick with himself.
He could only listen as Dorian continued solemnly, "As the boy grew, he fed on those stories; he became consumed with the idea of killing you himself for the glory of Calamity Ganon. Something changed in him almost overnight. He began to take too much pleasure in his deeds, killing for the fun of it, training night and day until he lived and breathed Yiga."
Dorian shuddered, his mind brewing. Shadows weighed down his eyes. "I was getting up in years, by that point; I mostly stayed at the hideout, tending to new recruits, when Izer volunteered us for a raid on Kakariko." He gave a humorless chuckle. "The boy was only sixteen. He wanted me to experience the thrill of raiding, again. I was hesitant, but he insisted. We, along with a few others, journeyed from the hideout to terrorize the village."
Pausing, Dorian looked beyond the treetops, his tired eyes glazed over with memories. "I hadn't seen my hometown for over twenty years by then. I found that my parents had long since moved out or died. Without them, I had no qualms with what we were doing. We stole into the village, setting fire to crops, chasing people out of their homes, all laughing like the maniacs we were. It was… exciting, I'm ashamed to admit. But as I broke into another home, that was when I saw… her."
He cut himself off, his shoulders sagging. Link, numbed by his history, watched in awe as Dorian hung his head and slowly sank to the ground, his back against the tree. He clung to his sling as if he were about to lose his grip on a cliff, squeezing his fracture as if punishing himself.
"My… Aiko…" he breathed.
A brief silence settled between them. Another chill rolled through Link at the name. "Who was she?" he asked quietly.
"...My wife," Dorian croaked. "The mother of my children."
Link's stomach dropped. He had no idea what to say. His words, and his heart, had stuck in his throat. He had honestly never thought about where Koko and Cottla's mother was. Judging by the way Dorian said her name, he could only assume the worst.
Through blurry eyes, Dorian went on. He cracked a small smile, sniffling. "W-when I snuck in, she bashed the back of my head with a wok. I hit the floor just as Izer joined me. He thought she had knocked me out, but I just laid where I had fallen, staring at her." His eyes glistened. "She was the single-most incredible person I had ever seen. Courageous. Beautiful. Headstrong… my Aiko."
Dorian, lost in his reveries, was quickly reminded of what came next. His blissful expression deteriorated until a wicked glare contorted his face, and he snarled, "Izer tried to slit her throat, but I jumped between them and fought him off. I remember turning back and catching her eyes as we were driven out of the village by guards. I'll never forget that look. She was scared. Of me. Of him. Of what we were doing." He raised his head, frowning. "I was disgusted with myself — I suddenly realized that I had made a horrible mistake, joining the Yiga Clan. I had to get out."
Dorian swallowed, his brow creased, as he looked upon Izer's remains, again. "He and I fought that night. And the night after. We didn't stop fighting until I packed up my things and deserted the Clan. I vowed to leave that life behind and start anew; I burned my uniform, buried my weapons, and made my way back home. To Aiko.
"It took me a long time to win her over. I explained myself, promised her I had cut ties, and helped repair the damage I had done to regain entry into the village." He smiled dryly, peering at Link. "Needless to say, my chores probably went more smoothly than yours. My efforts paid off — Impa let me back in. I only confided in Aiko, but that was enough. She saw beyond my past and agreed to marry me after I begged and begged."
"How long did that take?" Link wondered.
Dorian's smile widened a little. "Two years," he replied. "And the years that followed were the happiest of my life. I had it all: a peaceful life with my wife and neighbors, the excitement of raising our daughters. The joy of being a father and husband." He sighed blissfully. "I wouldn't trade it for anything."
But his smile faded. The color drained from his face. "Except that… I did. When I turned you over to Izer. I wasn't thinking. Not then. Not ever. Not when I joined the Clan, not when… I thought I was free of them."
He paused, staring into Izer's mask, his eyes hardening. He saw something in it that made his veins seethe. "I should have seen him coming, but my quiet life had dulled my guard. Poor Cottla had been running a fever for a few days straight. Aiko was beside herself. I… gave her a break and watched over our daughter while she left to refill a bucket from the creek. I waited for her to return — waited too long. It was only when Cado pounded on my door that I knew something had happened."
Dorian swallowed the bitter ball of hatred that had formed in his throat. His shoulders shook, hot tears stinging his eyes. His gaze darkened, his voice shuddering as he growled, "He had sliced her open. It was all over the grass in a huge, awful ocean. He painted the eye of the Yiga on her stomach with her own blood."
Link's heart gave a cold, dead thud in his chest. He cringed away, the grisly image of a broken, bloodied woman he didn't know staining his mind and wringing his gut again.
"Dorian…" he began, nauseous. "I-I'm so sorry."
Dorian's eyes had fogged over. He barely heard Link. He didn't respond — he could only continue sharing his pain with him. "As I cradled her body," he said, staring into the Yiga's mask. "I spotted him on a rooftop, looking down on us, unmasked." He yanked his eyes from the mask and met Link's gaze, spitting, "The bastard smiled at me."
Link's blood shot with ice, his eyes widening. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath. He merely gaped at Dorian's past, slack-jawed, his body as numb as his mind.
It went quiet for a moment as they shared pained gazes. Dorian quickly looked away, his head sinking. "Aiko's death filled me with rage. I wanted Izer dead a dozen times over. I wanted to soak Hyrule's fields with the blood of the Yiga Clan. But he had me. He had earned his keep by killing her — risen to the rank of Blademaster. Now, he pulled the strings. He promised not to hurt my children, or anyone else in the village, if I resumed my work with them." He shook his head, gazing into nothing. "Since then, I have… abused my position as gatekeeper to feed the Yiga information, and I... I-I tried to give them you. How… how dare I… betray the entire kingdom?"
His voice withered in his throat as he sat, appalled, by the man he had become. The silence that followed crushed them into the soggy grass. As Link sifted through Dorian's wilted posture and shattered spirit, the old man changed before him — he saw him in a new light. He understood why things had happened the way they had between them. Why they had fought, why he couldn't seem to make amends with him. Why he had sold him out.
Something overcame Link, then, displacing his hysteria. Pity. And it only grew with Dorian's following words.
"I'm a coward, Link," he grumbled, hiding his face. "I'm a gutless, godless, worthless coward. I created a monster that I couldn't tame. But you… you slayed it." He raised his head, not even attempting to conceal the tears on his cheeks. "You accomplished what I couldn't and spared me for my mistakes, and for that… I owe you my life and my gratitude."
He got to his feet and carefully padded his way over to Link, his face drooping in a wounded frown. Link remained in his place, flinching only just when Dorian knelt before him, shook off his coat, and draped it over his shoulders.
The warmth of Dorian's coat seeped through his skin. Link, moved by his gesture, offered him a faint smile. Dorian returned it, but it was tainted with shame.
The Sheikah lowered his eyes, sighing. "I realize that you may not ever trust me again — I know I wouldn't — but trust me when I say that I am indebted to you. I…" He trailed off, the shreds of his pride holding back his words. Finally, he forced them out of his mouth. "I'm sorry. For everything. This was all my doing."
Link shook his head, his throat tightening. "No it wasn't," he replied. Dorian's head snapped up, his brows raised. Link gestured to Dorian's sling and over his shoulder to Izer's remains. "I did my fair share."
The memory of Link's outburst haunted both of them simultaneously, jittering their spines. After a moment, Dorian inspected Link's glowing bones, his brow furrowed.
"...You really can't control whatever's inside you, can you?"
Link swallowed his panic at the reminder of it. "No," he muttered, averting his eyes from Dorian's sling. "I can't. I'm sorry you had to be on the receiving end of it. I'm so sorry, Dorian."
To Link's shock, Dorian snorted, giving him a crooked smile. He clapped Link on the shoulder, chuckling, "Not as sorry as he was," while he motioned toward Izer's uniform.
A spurt of laughter bubbled in Link's stomach at his horribly dark humor. He found himself followed Dorian's morbid chuckling, and they proceeded to laugh together for a moment. Their laughter didn't last long, however. It died out quickly, their mouths flattening back into dull, emotionless lines.
Rain continued to patter around them, the tense atmosphere dispersing as Dorian looked Link square in the eye. He attempted to dismiss Link's worries, saying, "Don't worry about me, Link. I'm a stubborn old goat — always have been. My arm will heal. I hope that you heal from this." He searched Link's eyes, delving deep. "It seems to me that you regret what happened here. Do not regret what you did to him. Not for a second. He deserved it."
Link's throat cinched at his words. He had no idea how to respond. Part of him, after hearing Dorian's history with the Yiga, wholeheartedly believed that Izer had deserved his fate. Even so, another part of Link still reeled with horror at the brutal manner in which he had met it. And at his own hand, no less. His mixed morality only brought his gut to a confused boil.
In the end, he held his silence as Dorian cemented into him, "You did us all an immense service. You have no idea how soundly we will all sleep knowing that Izer is dead. Impa herself will tell you that."
Link released a shaky sigh, only then remembering the village he had set out to protect. "We do have to go and report back, don't we…?" he mumbled. For some reason he was afraid of facing Impa. Paya, too. How could he begin to explain what had happened on the mountain? How could he show his face after that?
Fortunately for him, Dorian had his back. It was a refreshing sensation, if he could say the least.
"We'll go down together," Dorian said. "You're going to need some help with that knee of yours, anyway. But, before we go, if I could ask you a favor…" Dorian paused and squirmed, stowing his pride, again. He turned his gaze away from Link, proposing, "I know it's a selfish request, but do you think you could keep what really happened a secret? I know don't deserve mercy — I don't even deserve yours — but I don't want my children to suffer anymore. The villagers neither. It won't make up for what I've done, but… I-I can't…"
He trailed off, struggling to find the words he needed. But Link didn't need to hear any more. He understood. Smiling, he carefully reached out and laid a hand on the Sheikah's shoulder, pulling his attention back to him.
"...We both have our demons. I can't really hide mine, but yours are safe with me," Link promised. Dorian's face softened. "As far as I know, we took out Izer together."
Dorian didn't thank him. Not verbally, at least. He laid his own hand atop Link's, smiling, his eyes stinging again. That was all Link needed from him. Somehow, it was enough to mend the rift they had wrought between them.
Before Dorian could lose control of his emotions again, he abruptly sniffed, wiped his eyes, and got to his feet. Without a word, he turned and faced Izer's empty uniform. During their conversation, the rain had washed away most of Link's Malice, leaving behind a misshapen patch of black, burned grass. Izer's uniform lay slapped across it, along with his mask and the Sheikah Slate. His sword jutted out of the ground a ways off.
Dorian spared no time in gathering what was left behind. He folded up the uniform, tucked it into his shirt, and strapped the sword to his back. Then, as carefully as if he were handling jagged glass, he picked up the Sheikah Slate and returned it to Link.
His face was rigid as he held it out to him. The device seemed to have a pulse in his hands. "I believe this is yours," he said.
Part of Link leapt to take it back, but he restrained himself. With shaking fingers, he took it from Dorian. He could have sworn he felt a zing of lightning dart into his fingertips the moment he grasped it. They both jumped when it gave a merry trill, almost as though it were happy to reunite with him. Link held the gaze of the crimson eye on its screen for a moment. The Slate seemed to know he was looking at it — a familiar set of glyphs appeared on the screen, greeting him.
Master.
He struggled to swallow a mouthful of panic before he wrenched his gaze away and latched it onto his belt, pushing it out of his mind. At long last, he had it back, again. He just wasn't sure whether that was a boon or a curse.
Ready to go, Dorian offered Link his hand. Both of them hesitated almost invisibly, worried about possibly provoking whatever slept inside Link. Ultimately, they shook it off, and Dorian helped pull Link upright. He wobbled, doing his best to balance on his good leg. He wasn't looking forward to making his way back down to the village.
Dorian held Link steady, inspecting his knee. The tangled, displaced knot of his glowing bones hung from his thigh like dead weight, his skin bloated and tender.
Dorian bared his teeth, wincing. "That doesn't look good… Come here, we'll take it slow."
Slinging his arm across Dorian's shoulders, Link hopped on his good leg while Dorian held him by the waist, tucking him close. It would have to do. Together, they left Izer's grave at their backs and set off for Kakariko.
The trek down was arduous. Between fighting against slipping on the slick, sloping switchbacks, to periodically pausing to give Link a chance to catch his breath, it was a miracle they made it down at all. Crossing the bridge was particularly nerve-wracking, but they managed it with a little patience. By the time they descended the final switchback and entered the village proper, Link thought his knee would explode, his hips ablaze. His face contorted while he gasped for breath, thick sheets of sweat mixing with the rain drenching him from head to toe.
Impa's house was within reach, but it might as well have been miles away. He blearily gauged the distance he'd have to walk alongside Dorian and nearly collapsed. Thankfully, Dorian held him fast, though his own strength was waning.
"We're close, Link. Just hang in there a little while longer," he reassured him.
"...Okay…" Link puffed.
They had just resumed their drunken, two-person gait when they heard Impa's front doors blast open. A figure sprinted out from the glow of the house, bearing a lantern. They stormed down the staircase and made a break for them, splashing across the muddy courtyard. The pair quickly recognized Cado when he skidded to a stop before them, a lantern in one hand, a new sword in the other.
His eyes bulged out of his head when he beheld the two of them. Taking a fighting stance, he brandished his sword, shouting, "Get your filthy hands off him, beast, or I'll — "
He never got the chance to finish his threat, as Dorian cut him off. "Oh, shut up and help me with him, Cado!" he barked.
Cado took his chin back, blinking rapidly. "W-what?!" he stammered.
"You heard me!" Dorian said, beckoning him over. "The thief blew out his knee — I need help. Now get over here, will you?"
Cado, flabbergasted, nevertheless did as he was commanded. He sheathed his sword and hustled over, gingerly draping Link's arm across his shoulders, wary of touching his skin. The two men hoisted him up, easing the weight off of his knee. A breezy grunt of relief escaped Link as they proceeded to half-carry, half-drag him across the courtyard and up Impa's stairs. Each step was nothing short of torture, but somehow Link bit back against the overwhelming urge to flop over and scream.
He honestly had no idea how long he had been gone. In his absence, Paya had relit the candles and barred the windows. She and Impa were seated by the altar at the back of the house, calming themselves over tea and huddled beneath blankets, when Cado, Link, and Dorian hobbled inside, startling them.
Paya shot to her feet, knocking over her tea cup. "Link!" she gasped, eyes widening as she took in the sight of him. Her cheeks flushed when her gaze met his deformed knee. "Oh my — ! A-are you all right?!"
"I'm fine," Link lied between his teeth.
"No, you're not," Dorian grunted.
Paya and Impa darted forward, meeting them in the heart of the room. "Put him down," Impa ordered gently. "He needs to get off that leg."
As they carefully lowered him to the floor, Paya reached out and placed her hand on his chest, helping ease him down. He shivered at her touch, grimacing as his knee gave a sickening pop, rolling beneath him. Grinding his jaw, he knelt heavily on his good knee, hanging his head while Paya held him steady by the shoulders.
They gave him a moment or two to recuperate. "Thanks," he wheezed. Finally, he raised his eyes and met Impa's concerned gaze.
"What happened out there?" she asked, searching though his face.
He couldn't bear the thought of telling her the whole, gruesome truth. He could barely stomach it himself. No, he could only give a weary nod, muttering, "I did it. It's done."
She leaned forward, her brows raised. "Done? The thief… he's gone?"
Link nodded again. "Yes," he confirmed. Pausing, he pushed down a bubbling wave of horror at the memory of it. "I killed him, Lady Impa," he said, slowly, his voice quaking. "He will never hurt anyone else in this village — I made sure of that."
The room seemed to grow colder at Link's words, the memory of Izer's presence haunting each of their minds. Before anyone could say anything further, Dorian spoke up.
"He has this to prove it, Lady Impa."
He reached into his shirt and tossed Izer's battered mask before her. It clattered against the floor, the sound raking at the rigid air. Everyone backed away from it as if it were cursed.
Cado choked. He hadn't seen a mask like that in a long time. "Gods above, you actually went and did it — !" he marveled to himself.
Impa's gaze lingered on the mask for a moment, her lips firm. She knew that symbol too well. Her eyes traveled from the mask, to the shackles on Link's wrists, and then to his belt, where she caught sight of the Sheikah Slate. She squinted slightly, her thoughts swimming.
She returned her attention to the mask, picking it up carefully and turning it over in her hands. Hairline cracks ran along its face, its crimson eye smeared. The leather belt that secured it to its wearer was blackened and melted as if it had been in a fire. Her forehead wrinkled as she attempted to piece together what had happened.
As he watched her inspect it, Link began to sweat, positive she'd begin to probe him with questions he wasn't prepared to answer. When she finally spoke, her words surprised him.
"Masks like these are only worn by members of the Yiga Clan," she explained. They all listened intently. "This one belonged to a Blademaster — one of the most elite in their ranks. They are ruthless and cunning. Long ago, many of our best Sheikah warriors fell to the might of a Blademaster." Impa looked upon Link, a glimmer of insight in her eye. "Surely, it must have been no easy feat to slay a man such as this."
Link's stomach rolled. In truth, it had been easy. Too easy. And that frightened him. He shoved away visions of Izer seeping back into his mind like poison.
Impa didn't seem to notice Link's sudden swell of anxiety. Her face softened as she looked upon him. "Link," she began, making his gut flutter. She showed the mask to him. "You did all this… for us?"
She then set the mask aside, holding him firmly in her gaze. "We worked you to death yesterday, and yet, you rose and defeated a Blademaster — for us. You risked your life for a village full of people who cowered before you, abused you, treated you like a monster." A tender smile spread across her lips, warming Link's horror slightly. Her eyes twinkled. "After all this time… You haven't changed one bit. Once a hero, always a hero — no matter what you look like."
Link didn't have time to process what she was saying. To his utter shock, Impa stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. His heart almost stopped, his blood grinding to a total halt in his veins.
His world was ripped from underneath him all at once. Impa recognized him. She remembered him. Not as the beast that had upturned her quiet village, but as the hero she had once known. His breath caught in his lungs. He could hardly believe what was happening.
A shiver rolled through him when she spoke into his ear.
"How can we ever repay you?"
He was too numb to respond. Instead, he found his leaden arms raising on their own, encircling Impa's little body and gently pulling her closer. She did the same, tightening her hold around him. She took the time to re-familiarize herself with his muscles, his hairline, the nape of his neck. She hadn't held him that much a century before, but she still remembered the ebb and flow of his shoulders, the way he tightened his ponytail. It was all coming back to her.
It was him. Link. Awake at last.
Time stopped for Link as she held him. His mind was wiped blank. He stared emptily into the wall, his breath shallow, his body shuddering without his control. He slowly came to the heartbreaking realization that he hadn't been held in over one hundred years. His body was starved for human contact — he squeezed her, not even feeling the silent tears leaking out of his eye sockets.
"You did very well, Link," Impa murmured. "I couldn't be more proud of you. You saved us all."
He melted a little at that.
Link jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his gaze, finding Paya knelt beside him, smiling sweetly. It pained him to see the bruise smeared across her cheek, but she didn't pay it any mind. The Yiga was gone all thanks to him. That was enough.
Paya mouthed, Thank you.
A humble silence blanketed them all. Something even stirred Cado's emotions as he stood there, watching the beast he had tormented crumble into nothing in the arms of his elder. Suppose he truly was the hero she had told everyone about? A pang of guilt stabbed at Cado's heart for making the Hero of Hyrule scrape out his cucco coop.
Impa patted Link's back, pulling away after what felt like a blissful eternity. She gazed upon him with a warmth of familiarity, cupping his cheek as if he were her grandson. "Thank you, Link, on behalf of everyone in the village. I doubt we'll be able to pay you back fully for this, but perhaps we could start by patching you up, hm? It's the least we can do."
"Yes, please," Link whispered, out of breath for some reason.
She turned to her granddaughter. "Paya, be a dear and fetch some supplies and fresh clothes. We need to get him out of these rags."
"Of course, grandmother," Paya replied. Standing, she turned and took off up the stairs. Link stared after her, barely registering what followed.
"And as for you, Dorian," Impa said, startling the old Sheikah. He stiffened where he stood. "Thank you for bringing Link back to us. We have much to discuss, you and I. But that can wait until morning. We have other engagements."
Dorian suddenly looked as though he had seen a ghost. He swallowed, nodding. "Yes, Lady Impa. Whatever you need."
"Thank you," she replied. Gesturing to Link, she continued, "Now, would you and Cado take a look at his leg, please? Be gentle with him, now. We only just got him back."
The pair obeyed, carefully taking Link and hauling him over to the wall, propping him up. Impa followed, supervising. Link tensed against the fire that shot through his bones as Dorian extended his leg before him. He could barely look at his own leg — it jutted off in an unnatural direction at the swollen, displaced junction that used to be his kneecap. He had a feeling this wouldn't go well.
Cado and Dorian knelt on his either side. Cado held back, feeling out-of-place, while Dorian leaned his nose in close to examine Link's leg.
After a moment or two, he shrugged. "Well, it isn't as bad as it looks — it's a clean dislocation. Should go back in easy. Thankfully, we can see what we're working with."
"Lucky me," Link groaned.
Paya came downstairs just as Dorian and Cado gingerly placed their hands on his semi-transparent skin. She carried several small medicine pots, a roll of cloth, and two bamboo boards atop a stack of folded clothes. When she laid eyes on what Dorian and Cado were about to do, she froze in her place, her face draining.
Cado and Dorian hesitated. Meanwhile, Impa gave her a sympathetic smile. "Paya, dear, you may want to go back upstairs for this part."
The girl gulped, rummaging up her courage. "N-no. No, I want to help." Striding forward, she set down her cargo and knelt beside Link. His heart rocketed into his throat when she proceeded to take his hand and hold it tight.
His face burned as he gaped at her, speechless. She held his gaze for a split second before she blushed a vibrant pink, burying her eyes into the rug. Link wasn't the only one floored by her bravery — everyone's gazes were zeroed in on their interlocked hands, brows raised and open-mouthed. No matter their stares, Paya refused to let go.
Dorian shook it off. He released a sigh through his nose and looked to Link, cautioning, "This is going to hurt."
Link's face twitched against a nervous smile threatening his mouth. "Don't worry — I've got help," he said, squeezing Paya's hand. She gave a quiet gasp, returning the gesture with a small squeeze of her own.
Dorian pursed his lips, turning his attention to Cado. He nodded to him. "On three, Cado. One…"
Trailing off, the two men put their hands into position. Cado set both palms against one side of Link's knee, while Dorian laid his forearm along the other. Link's body preemptively braced itself for what was coming, his jaw gluing shut and his spine locking.
"Two…"
Everyone sucked in a breath at the same time.
"Three!"
Dorian leaned his weight into his shoulder and thrust his forearm into Link's kneecap — Cado's hands remained solid, kicking back. With a nauseating crunch, Link's knee snapped across his ligaments and back into its socket. A sharp bolt of pain lanced up his knee and into hips, his body jolted as if he had been struck by lightning. A scratchy howl ripped out of his throat. On reflex, he clenched down on Paya's hand till her knuckles cracked, coaxing a whimper out of her.
Impa's hand flew to his shoulder. "Shh, shh — it's all right, Link," she cooed, stroking him. "It's over."
Link panted and grunted, pinching his eyes shut. Dorian might as well have driven a spike through his knee. Within a few moments, his knee was prickling with pins and needles, throbbing with its own heartbeat. Link risked a blurry glance down — swollen as it was, it was back where it belonged. Thank the gods. He just prayed he'd be able to walk without a limp.
"It's done," Dorian gasped, patting Link's shin. "It's back in place. You'll be all right."
"Thanks," Link hissed, endeavoring to settle his rampant breath.
Paya continued to hold his hand as Dorian and Impa quickly took up the supplies she had brought. Link rolled his head towards her and smiled, grateful that she had sacrificed her hand for him.
"Did I hurt you?" he wheezed.
She managed to bring her eyes about into his. Shaking her head, she returned his smile. "No. I'm fine."
He squeezed her hand, again. Lightly this time. "Good… I'm glad."
She squeezed him back, blushing.
As Link's body wound down from the shock, Impa gently daubed a numbing oil onto his knee while Dorian prepared a splint. He placed the bamboo boards on either side of his knee and bundled them tight with a bolt of cloth, ensuring everything remained straight. After making him drink a sour pain reliever, Paya released Link's hand and assisted Impa in helping him out of his sopping, ragged clothes. Cado remained on the sidelines, gathering up scraps.
Link's shirt had been reduced to a tattered jacket that easily came off. Casting it aside, he slipped into a sleeveless, navy blue top and coat. They couldn't remove his pants without disturbing his splint, so Dorian took a small knife and cut him out of them; wet and ancient, they just about fell off of his body. Paya managed to flush even redder when she beheld Link stripped down to only his shorts — she had to turn her head away. Impa and Dorian, amidst a series of chuckles, helped Link don a pair of loose pants, instead.
In the end, he looked rather fitting in Sheikah garb. His clammy skin tingled with warmth against the fresh clothes; somehow, it brought a smile to his face.
As they helped him into his clothes, a wave of exhaustion bore down on him like a heavy blanket. It only then occurred to him how late it was and just how much he had done that day. Between doing chores and doing battle, his energy was thoroughly spent. His head lolled, his vision blurring as he fought to stay awake.
Impa smiled at him as they wrapped up. "...I think it's about time for bed. For all of us. We've had a long night." She met everyone's gazes, gesturing around the room. "How about we all sleep here tonight? We'll bring down the extra futons from upstairs, and in the morning, breakfast is on me. Yes?"
Nobody objected — it seemed Link's exhaustion had spread. Several pairs of glazed, shadowy eyes softened, nods bouncing around the room.
"I'd like that," Paya murmured.
"Very good," Impa said. "Paya, I'm sorry to make you run upstairs again, but could you grab the extra futons? We'll need five."
The girl nodded, excusing herself.
Impa turned her head toward Dorian, continuing, "I think you ought to bring your daughters, as well, Dorian. Have Cado go with you. After today, I bet they'll be wanting to spend the night with their father."
Dorian swallowed a lump in his throat and agreed with a quiet nod. Before he left, he met eyes with Link, his gaze flickering to the shackles still on his wrists. Pursing his lips, he approached Impa, removed something from his pocket, and handed it to her. Without a word, he took up a lantern and made his way out, Cado on his heels.
That left Link alone with Impa. They sat in silence for a time, listening to the reverent thumping of Paya walking around upstairs. Link leaned his head against the wall, his eyes stinging, begging to close. But he forced himself awake for just a bit longer. He needed to talk to Impa — alone.
"Impa?" he asked.
"Yes?"
He wet his lips. "I just… wanted to say thank you. F-for everything," he croaked, his throat tightening for some reason. She smiled sweetly under his gaze. "For welcoming me into your home, for feeding me… for your kindness. Thank you for making me feel… human. Not like — "
" — a beast," she finished.
His hands balled up in his lap. "Yes. A beast."
"You are very welcome," she replied, tracing along his bone mask with her eyes. "You've no doubt been through more than anyone deserves — especially you. You've earned yourself a good, long rest."
He snorted. "Like I need it. I've been resting for a hundred years."
"Yes, well, even so, you still need your rest." She cocked her head, gazing on him fondly. "A man needs his rest."
Link smiled faintly, falling quiet. He honestly could have thanked her until the sun rose, but his mind seemed to find his brief thanks enough, his brain beginning to shut down, again. They both fell quiet, sitting to the sound of the rain against the windows.
After a few moments, Impa broke the silence herself. She had been eyeing the bands on Link's wrists.
"Link…" she said, reaching out and lifting the broken chains of his shackles. "Those are Sheikah-made shackles," she pointed out. "The Yiga prefer rope. Do you have an explanation for this?"
Link blinked, his exhaustion fading. His heart began to sprint in his chest as he thought back. "I, er…" he mumbled, struggling for words.
He hadn't realized what the shackles signified. What could he say? That Dorian had betrayed, ambushed, and bound him? That Dorian had been feeding the Yiga Clan information? No — Link couldn't. Dorian had entrusted him with his pain and his mistakes — he couldn't betray the trust that he had literally fought for. But what else could he tell her? Any lie he attempted to put together was preposterous at best and flimsy at worst.
How could he lie to Impa? Again, he just couldn't. Not to her. Not after everything she had done for him.
Link, somehow sick with loyalty, couldn't come up with a reason that wouldn't betray Dorian. But he couldn't outright lie to Impa, either. He merely stammered, "Impa, I-I… I can't — "
She cut him off. "Say no more," she murmured, placing her hand on his. He stared at her, his chest hollow. "I've been around long enough to know when I'm not being told the whole truth."
A dagger of regret shredded Link's heart, his brows furrowing. At that moment, the truth threatened to burst out of his mouth, but something barred it. His unspoken promise, perhaps? He choked on his words, his face as strained as his spirit.
To his surprise, Impa shrugged it off. "Perhaps it's better if I don't know. Knowledge is a heavy burden to bear, and whatever happened out there… perhaps it is too great for me. I can see it in your face, Link. What happened tonight — it will haunt you the rest of your days."
His spine shuddered. He gulped down a mouthful of anxiety into his roiling stomach.
"Just promise me this," she continued, squeezing his hand. Her eyes glittered with hope. "That whatever happened between you and that Yiga, you will not let it consume you. Use it as fuel for your journey. Make it work for you, not against you. You were good at that — taking your trials and using them to drive your progress. It's what got you through the worst of times, and it's what got you here." She grasped his hand with hers, inspiriting, "I know that time has taken your memories, but please, do not lose sight of the hero you are because of the beast you have been forced to become. You are not that beast, Link. You. Are. Not."
Link's ribs rattled with every shaky breath he took. As he stared at her, wide-eyed and speechless, he hadn't realized he had shed a few silent tears.
Izer blasted back into his brain like a nightmare. His breaking bones, his bloody screams, his Malice-drawn doom. And who had wrought it upon him?
A beast. Link.
He shook his head. "But… I-I am — w-what I did to him… I-I am… a beast…" he stammered. "You… you didn't see it. Didn't hear it. What I d-did."
She leaned closer to him, searching through the horror in his eyes. "I don't have to to know that it changed you. But let it be a change for the better. Know what you can do, and make it yours. Not Calamity Ganon's. Yours."
He never got the chance to ask her how. At that moment, Paya returned from upstairs. They both turned to watch her carefully make her way down — they could hardly see her face due to the tall stack of folded futons and pillows she struggled with. As she dumped them onto the floor, Impa cupped Link's cheek and placed something into his hand before she stood and shuffled off to help her granddaughter.
Blinking away his awe, his eyes flicked down to see what it was.
A small key. The key to his shackles.
He closed his eyes and sighed to himself. He hadn't revealed much to Impa — or perhaps he had? — but he had the distinct feeling she knew more than she was letting on. Grinding his jaw, he took the key and unlatched his shackles, tossing them onto a nearby table. He wished he could cast aside the memories of that night as easily as he cast aside the shackles. If only.
It didn't take long for Impa and Paya to set out the futons around the room. Once finished, Impa began to blow out candles. When Paya brought over Link's futon, she helped him slide under the sheets, making sure he was comfortable. She brought by a few extra pillows to tuck under his knee as extra cushioning.
He thanked her, his voice hoarse. Though a storm of confusion and dread swirled inside him, he was still exceedingly grateful for her help and hospitality. It was hard to believe that she had been terrified of him just the day before. Now, as he lay on a plush, comfortable futon, he marveled at how quickly things had changed for the better.
All the same, he couldn't shake an underlying feeling of dread for something he couldn't name.
By the time Cado and Dorian returned with Dorian's daughters, all but one of the candles had been blown out. Impa waited for them on her futon, holding the last of them.
Link, bone-tired as he was, lay on his back, staring into the ceiling. His mind was full to spilling, but he couldn't seem to pin down a single strand of thought without losing it to his mental maelstrom. He jumped and hurriedly closed his eyes when he heard Cado and Dorian enter the house. He listened, eyes shut, as Impa greeted them and helped get everyone out of their wet coats. She waited on her futon while Cado lead Koko by the hand while Dorian carried Cottla on his shoulder towards their futon. When the had settled, Cado made his way back to his. Paya had claimed her spot beside Link, with Impa on his other side.
After bidding everyone goodnight, Impa extinguished her candle, dousing them all in darkness.
Link huddled under his sheets, worried his glowing bones would wake someone. To find some semblance of peace from his chaotic thoughts, he cast out any shred of Izer that dared slither into his mind and instead focused on laying still and counting his breaths. His heartbeat kept a brisk pace, but as he counted higher, and his body began to ooze into his futon, it began to slow. By some miracle, he ended up drifting off to sleep for a few hours.
And despite the unwelcome arrival of Izer, the village slept peacefully.
But Cottla woke up in the middle of the night. The adults around her were fast asleep — her father snored softly. Sitting up, she clutched her blanket close and looked around her, remembering that she wasn't at her house. Then she noticed the subtle magenta glow of Link's collarbone shining through the darkness. A smile spread across her face. Kicking off her sheets, she crawled off of the futon and crept over to where Link lay.
She sat beside him, her eyes glittering with the glow of his bones. Reaching out, she lightly slapped at his shoulder, whispering, "Psst. Funny. Funny!"
Her little voice managed to wrench Link out of his sleep. With a gasp, he perched himself on his elbows and blinked at her. For a moment, he wasn't sure which of Dorian's daughters he was looking at, but it eventually came to him.
He restrained a yawn, pinching his eyes shut. "Cottla, sweetie, what are you doing up?" he whispered.
She beamed and stroked his arm as if he were a pet. "Mommy says thank you."
It took a second for his tired brain to digest what she had said. He stared at her, a pit forming in his stomach, his heart skipping a beat. "Mommy…?" he repeated, confused.
The little girl nodded briskly. "She says thank you." Then, without further explanation, she began to crawl into his bed.
Link panicked a little for some reason. He held his hand up, trying to coax her back into her own bed. "Oh, sweetie, you should get back to bed — with your family."
"Mm-hmm," she replied, undeterred. No matter his efforts, she settled down beside him, laying her blanket across them both. With a giggle, she wrapped her arms around his arm, snuggling him like a doll.
"Night, Funny," she yawned.
His breath stagnated in his lungs and he remained half-propped-up, stunned. He didn't know what to make of Cottla's words. Her mother? But… she was dead. Horribly dead, from what Dorian had said. A chill darted across Link's skin from seemingly nowhere.
He couldn't afford to dwell on it. Not that late. He had no idea what time it was — he forced himself to forget about it and fall back asleep. He laid on his back, his brows furrowed as he stared into the shadowy ceiling for a moment before dragging his eyes shut.
As he attempted to fall asleep, he couldn't shake the uncanny feeling that someone was standing above him. But whenever he checked, he found only darkness. Perhaps he was still paranoid from Izer? Whatever-was-bothering-him seemed to be affecting his knee, as well — it had gone cold and stiff, as if someone were pressing a chunk of ice to it. It was strangely soothing.
"Night… Aiko," he breathed to the darkness.
In the end, his exhaustion consumed him, and he was out cold in a manner of seconds.
So, what did you think?! I wanted that chapter to be a bit bittersweet: sweet in that Link gets a bit of a happy ending, but still has to live with the reminder of what happened. Hoo boy, does he have more coming. Poor guy.
I also thought it might be a good idea to flesh out Dorian's story, as well as his wife's. She was briefly mentioned in the game, but she's also mentioned in the art book. The Kakariko Ghost. A very interesting concept that I would have loved to see evolved a little! A few aspects of this story are parts of the game I thought could have been fleshed out. Our beloved Aiko (and Izer, too) are part of that. :)
Anyway, I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Not quite as action-packed as the previous one, but trust me, next chapter, we're headed back out into Hyrule, and Link's going to meet some fun faces. :) Can't wait to see you there!
Thanks for reading! You're AMAZING!