Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda, its characters and locations are all property of Nintendo. Any and all OCs and original locations belong to me unless specifically stated to belong to someone else.

The Hunt
Chapter 37

Impa waited with, in her opinion, great patience as her cousin (several times removed) finished hurling his insides out, looking the image of abject misery. It was his just desserts, of course, what with how much plonk he'd managed to consume in the span of a few hours and for the ruckus he'd caused. He was upset—she understood that, and even sympathised with him, but that was no excuse to behave like a buffoon. There would certainly be some form of punishment in store for him at some point, but Impa figured she would wait until Elenwe was awake to help dole it out (and she wouldn't stop at purple hair this time!).

"Has anyone told you that you're creepy when you stare like that?"

Kafei had withdrawn his face from the bucket to glare weakly at her, looking quite green around the gills. His hair was matted to his face, the whites of his eyes nearly as red as his pupils. It had been a long night for him. The room smelled like sick, as did the man himself, and Impa had to fight the urge to throw him into the nearest trough for a good scrubbing. Later, she promised herself. Later.

"Everyone does," she said with a nod. She was leaning casually against the windowsill, glancing out into the whirling blizzard outside every now and then. The flurries were so thick and heavy the sunlight couldn't penetrate it, leaving seemingly perpetual darkness outside. It had ruined her planned rude awakening for Kafei—after all, were there greater pleasures than pulling the curtains on someone trying to sleep off a hangover? She'd yet to find any. "But I find it to be a great motivator."

Kafei burped and went back into the bucket for another round against the laws of biology, the sheer volume he'd expelled at this point surely being more than the total of his bodyweight. He moaned, and Impa finally took pity on him. She poured him a glass of water and mixed in a small vial of some strange concoction the twins had promised would reduce the symptoms of a drunken night (albeit with some side-effects, as it was still very much in the prototype stage). Tapping his shoulder, she wordlessly handed him the glass, which he downed gratefully, only grimacing after it was all gone.

"Congratulations, you are the first test subject for twins' soon-to-be-patented hangover cure," she said cheerfully, taking the glass and pouring him some more water, this time without the cure. One dose was plenty, apparently.

"Whoopee," he said with the enthusiasm of a man awaiting his execution. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

Impa sniffed. "I suppose, but I would have expected you to be more worried about your wife."

Kafei's half-lidded eyes slammed open, and he made a choking sound. "E!" He tried to stand up, but his body was not willing to cooperate, leaving him sprawled on the floor, fingers scrabbling for handholds in the rough planks of the tower floor. Impa suspected he'd drag himself to the infirmary if she didn't interfere. Sighing, she stepped in front of him and, with little effort, pulled him up and planted him back on his bed. "Impa, I—"

"You're of no use to anyone in your current condition," Impa interrupted. "Certainly not to Elenwe, who is still alive, so you can breathe easy." The entirety of Kafei deflated like a balloon at that. "We had to remove her arm, but from what I understand she will live."

"Her arm," Kafei moaned. "Gods..."

"Now," Impa said, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing him up until he was leaning against the wall. If he looked miserable before, he'd crossed into despair now. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened. Tira has already filled me in, but I'd like to hear it from you, the lead hunter. Report."

Her tone left no room for argument, and he sensed it, straightening his posture. "It was about as routine a hunt as it could be, at first. The village elders drove a hard bargain; they only agreed to pay us quarter in advance—we never got the rest, as you can imagine."

"I'll have someone stop by when the pass thaws—from what Tira told me, the hunt was at least completed."

"It was," he said with a nod. "So yeah, they owe us."

"So, you negotiated with the village..."

"...and headed off into the woods," Kafei continued. "After listening to the stories, inquiring about the victims, and doing some basic tracking, we concluded that it was a normal troll infestation, as you suspected. We tracked the beasts to their cave some miles north of the village, waiting until noon to ensure they'd be firmly asleep. We then entered the cave with spears and flash bombs."

Impa nodded as he spoke. This was all according to procedures laid out by the veteran hunters of the past. It was exactly how she'd handle it. Flash bombs to surprise and blind the trolls, and spears to finish them off from a distance. Big and strong, the beasts' jugulars were as vulnerable as any other creature's—especially forest trolls'.

"We came across the harem, and went to work. There were no juveniles, so there were just the females and the alpha male." Kafei gritted his teeth and covered his mouth for a moment, a wave of nausea passing through him. "We followed procedure; swift and merciless to limit suffering. It was over in minutes."

"Or so you thought," Impa said.

"Or so we thought," Kafei agreed. "When the male went down, we took a few minutes to ensure they were all dead, because a wounded troll—"

"—is a deadly troll," Impa intoned. "As Master Terra said."

Kafei nodded. "None lived...and then we discovered the second tunnel. And its occupants."

"How many females in the harem?"

Kafei's brows furrowed. "Five, which was within the average."

"And how many more did you find in the second tunnel?"

"Four, the biggest of the bunch," Kafei said. "And that's where things went to shit. We barely had time to react before they attacked. We were nearly out of flash bombs, but we used the few we had left to great effect. My spear broke, and I had to use my backup axe."

Troll hides were exceptionally tough unless proper tools were used. Impa had a scar on her back as a reminder of that fact.

"We dealt with the newcomers, not quite as fast as we'd have liked. By the time the last troll fell dead, we were exhausted."

He swallowed heavily, and Impa knew the most difficult part of the story came next. She waited, giving him the time to gather himself.

"Then the second male showed up," he said bitterly. "I have never seen two males in a single pack, have you?"

"No," Impa said. "Never. There is always one alpha male—betas are either driven from the pack upon reaching sexual maturity, or the beta replaces the alpha by killing him and taking over the pack. This is unprecedented, and I can only hope it was an anomaly. I will warn the other workshops, however, to keep a lookout in case it should happen again. But the mere presence of a second male wasn't the only strange thing about this..."

"It wasn't a forest troll," he said. "It was a fucking mountain!"

Impa looked at the floor, her mind going through everything she knew about trolls and their many subspecies. While forest and mountain trolls, by virtue of their environments, shared territories in many places, the two species had never had much love for each other. It wasn't unheard of for one pack to go to war with another, trying to exterminate their rivals. It was one thing for a pack of forest trolls to grow to such a large size (five females or less was the average), but to share a habitat with one from the mountain subspecies? That was bizarre and utterly unheard of, and something Impa hoped was only a freak occurrence.

"And then?"

"All hell broke loose, and E...E...I panicked." He looked her dead in the eye. "There is no other word for it. I panicked, and lost control of the situation. The bastard snuck up on us, and by the time I realised it was going for her, I..." He looked down at his hands, clenching his fists. "I was useless."

"Elenwe took the brunt of the blow with her arm, which shattered almost completely," Impa finished for him. "Using her lamp, Tira set the troll's feet on fire, and you hacked its head off after she severed the tendons in its knees." She was actually quite impressed with how quickly they'd dispatched the damn thing after such an abrupt change in the situation, and with one hunter down, but that was their training and instincts taking over rather than conscious thought, she supposed. Still, taking a mountain troll's head off with anything less than a razor-sharp halberd? Impressive. "All in all, a job well done—"

"Well done?" he asked. "Elenwe's lost her arm—in what way was that a hunt gone well?"

"You're all alive, for one, if slightly worse for wear," Impa pointed out. "As far as I'm concerned, any hunt you can walk away from..."

"Elenwe couldn't walk away from it," Kafei growled. "As party leader, I bear the responsibility for this fiasco—"

"But you did take responsibility, and brought Elenwe back in time for Doctor Kaura to save her life." She reached out and brushed some stray locks from his face, surprising him with the gentleness of it. "That is all I require of my hunters, Kafei. You walked into what was supposed to be a textbook operation that went wrong in all the worst ways...but you all came out of it alive—and you managed to finish the job. You may not consider it as such, but in my eyes this was a success."

"I doubt E will feel that way."

"Somehow, I don't think the loss of an arm is going to be much of a hindrance to her kicking your arse up and down these halls for wallowing in self-pity like you're doing now. Is this really what you want her to wake up to?" she asked, gesturing to the sweaty, broken mess of a man in front of her.

"She wouldn't like that," he admitted, glancing towards the mirror above the wash basin.

"That's the spirit," she said with mock cheer. "Get some rest, now, and let the brothers' concoction do its work, and I will see you downstairs for lunch. Doctor Kaura will be there to answer any questions you may have, I'm sure."

"Can I see—"

"Later," she interrupted. "She needs her rest, and the fewer cooks in a kitchen, et cetera... Sleep now, and we'll talk more later."

She left the tower chamber Kafei shared with Elenwe (a perk of being a married couple), and descended to the ground floor. It was time for breakfast, and she was curious to see if the seed she'd planted in Sheik the night before had begun to grow. She passed Mana on the way, nodding to her. She knew where Impa had been.

It could perhaps be seen as favouritism, but it was difficult not to ensure that a boy she had helped raise was, at the very least, at ease with his role in what was admittedly an utter disaster of an operation. Had she known about the anomalies, she'd have sent a larger party with heavier weaponry. Maybe then Elenwe wouldn't have gotten hurt...but ah, that was all speculation. The present was what it was, and they could only move forward while taking this experience with them.

I know that more than most, Impa thought, her silver-tipped cane tapping along the stone floor.

"Yoo-hoo, it's only me," Ayla announced as she more or less dragged Lor into the laboratory. Most undignified, in his opinion, but it was either that or have her carry him inside, and he'd had enough of that after the trip up the tower.

There was a heavy smell of chemicals, and a slight haze, in the air. It burned his nostrils. At the end of the room, close to a complicated-looking set of glass beakers, tubes, and burners, a figure stood with their back turned to them. The shock-white hair gave his identity away immediately. He waved at them vaguely, not turning to face them just yet.

"Ayla, good to see you," the scientist said, his voice slightly muffled. "Stay over there, will you? Working with caustics over here, and you don't want to breathe it in. In fact, could you open that window over there a little? About two notches?"

"Might want to button that," Ayla told Lor, referring to his coat, which was open. She pried open one of the shuttered windows, and the wind that blew in was freezing cold, proving that the storm was still raging. It helped remove the smell, however, and the haze cleared a little right away. "Whatcha doin', doc?" Ayla then asked. "And where's number two?"

"Oh, just general experimentation right now," he replied. "And don't let Ard hear you call him that—he'll burn your eyebrows off, or something like that."

So, this was Erd, then? Lor found his presence far easier than Ard's...though, so far he'd only been in the same room as the apparently crankier twin for less than a minute, so there wasn't much to judge from.

Erd sealed the beaker he was fiddling with and carefully replaced it in a rack before turning to them. He removed his heavy rubber gloves and the breathing mask, giving them a big smile. "And who's this? One of the newcomers?" He directed the last question at Lor, giving another, more friendly, wave.

"Yup, this is Lor. He's from Hyrule, and came up with Sheik."

"Ah, our hero, as I understand it," Erd said, stepping forward to shake Lor's hand. "Keeper of our secrets, as it were."

Lor smiled shyly back. He couldn't get over how he'd been welcomed among the hunters once they'd been told of, in his opinion, his meagre accomplishment. That no one batted an eyelash when they learned of his past, or recognised the tattoo on his cheek, was unusual. In Castle Town, everyone knew exactly who he was and what he did, based on the ink alone, but here...well, he'd seen similar tattoos on other hunters. Ayla was already planning on how to change his into something less...loaded with meaning.

"It's nice to meet you, professor...?" he said.

"And so polite, too," Erd said, chuckling. "I'm no professor, I'm afraid. My education has never been formally recognised, being as scattered as it is, but I've never needed a piece of paper to tell me what I know or don't know. Ah, but I ramble. You can call me Erd." The shake was rigorous and firm. "I'd introduce you to my brother, Ard, but he's currently downstairs, attending to the l...something."

He'd clearly stumbled, almost saying something he shouldn't, but Lor didn't press him on it. It wasn't his business. Ayla pretended not to have noticed as well.

"Anyway, the bastard's not here," Erd finished lamely.

"They've already met," Ayla said. "He was treated to the customary stare and silence as only Ard can give them."

Erd stared for a moment, and Lor got the uncomfortable impression it was at his tattoo. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—recognition? "Oh, right, I see. I can only apologise, then, if my brother offended you. He's always been quiet, but when he starts staring...he means nothing by it, I assure you."

"I wasn't offended, don't worry," Lor said quickly. "He seems...nice."

That was met with a pair of snorts from Ayla and Erd. "My brother is many things, but 'nice' isn't one of them," Erd said. "He prefers being honest, brutally so. Worrying about the feelings of others is not his specialty. That said, sometimes that's just what we need, isn't it?"

"Too bad he's a pain in the arse the rest of the time," Ayla said sourly, making Erd chuckle.

"Indeed, but what can you do?" He glanced back Lor. "So, what can I do for you? Are you just here for a tour?"

"Not just that," Ayla said. Lor blinked. He was under the impression that's exactly what this visit was for. "It's going to be a long winter, and the risk of going stir-crazy up here without anything to do is pretty much constant. I figured you could give Lor here something to do to keep his mind occupied while his body heals."

Two pairs of eyes regarded Ayla with confusion.

What on earth was she playing at? Of what possible use could Lor be to the two scientists who, judging by the looks of their workspace, engaged in what might as well be arcane arts for all he understood of it. The diagrams alone almost made his head hurt!

"Ayla, I don't—"

"Well," Erd said slowly, looking back at Lor. "We could do with someone to take notes and such...and transfer them to proper volumes. Can you read and write, Lor?"

He nodded hesitantly.

"Ard and I have the worst handwriting in the world—practically illegible, according to Impa. If you'd be willing, I'd love it if you could transcribe our notes into something properly readable, both for the benefit of us, and the future occupants of this lab. Would that be agreeable?"

Lor found himself nodding, despite how uncertain he felt. "If...if you feel comfortable letting me do that, then...yes. I'm not...I don't have any education, though, so I won't understand anything—"

"Neither do we, half the time," Erd said happily. "That's why we run so many experiments—to learn. If there's something specific you're curious about, just ask. I'll try to enlighten you to the best of my abilities...unless it's about statistical analysis. Can't bloody stand it. I let Ard handle that tripe." He looked absolutely disgusted by the notion.

Lor laughed at that, which seemed to please Erd.

"Wonderful," Ayla announced, clapping her hands. "That's two problems taken care—your need of an assistant, and Lor's need of an occupation." She grabbed his hand and began hauling him back towards the door. "We have a tour to continue, Erd. I'll bring him by tomorrow morning, yeah?"

"That will be fine, Ayla," Erd replied. "By the way, have you figured out the spring mechanism yet?"

She paused, grimacing. "Eh, turns out my design is a bit too advanced for the crude equipment we've got up here," she said. "Hafthor says he doesn't have the skills or tools needed to make something that fine. I'll see what I can find after winter—maybe an artisan in Termina, or something. In the meantime, I've got another idea that I'll be looking into. I'll bring it by someday so you can look at it."

"I'll look forward to it. Have a good day, you two, and I'll see you tomorrow, Lor."

Erd waited until he heard their steps on the stairs leading back down to the main keep before turning to a crumpled pile of papers on one of the tables. Ard had struggled with his sketching the night before, and if Erd wasn't too mistaken...

Smoothing out one of the failed drawings, he almost guffawed. There was no mistaking that design for anything but the one on Lor's cheek.

"Oh, brother," he said. "This is going to be fun!"

Ascal narrowed his eyes at the array of lights ahead of him, stretching out across the valley. Whiteridge had grown drastically since he'd last been here. Had it really been that long, for the population to grow to this size naturally, or had there been some sort of influx of travellers who'd decided to stay? Surely not, who on earth could possibly want to remain in this godforsaken hellhole when given an option?

He sighed. This would complicate matters, certainly, but at the same time it was an opportunity. He'd taken a look at the Studio, and found that the defences had been tightened up considerably. There was no way to get in there without being spotted and causing all hell to break loose. It was only due to the storm he'd avoided detection so far, if his memory of the hunters' watch patterns was still any good.

A plan had already formed, naturally (on occasion, his mind's inability to settle came in handy), but it would take time to execute. A lot of time. Time he worried he didn't have. And manpower, another thing he didn't have, but thanks to Whiteridge, perhaps he would.

The wind whistled through the trees and rocks, and he turned back, heading towards the cache he'd left Art in. Hopefully, the man had recovered and gotten warm by now. They had a lot of work ahead of them, and he couldn't do it all on his own...at least not at a satisfactory pace. The storm would have to settle a little first, but they could begin preparing right away, at least.

He wanted to get this over with. He wanted to go home. He wanted to...to see his young lord. His sire would surely laugh at him for his attachment to his benefactor, but Ascal didn't care. Traditions and normal behaviour had never sat well with him anyway. They only got you killed, in the end. Ascal's sire had learned that the hard way, and Ascal had no intention of joining him anytime soon in that watery grave...

"First things first," he muttered to himself, trudging through thigh-deep snow. "The watchtower."

He glanced towards the southern end of the mountain pass. There, on a craggy cliff, stood the remains of an ancient watchtower. It had been crumbling on Ascal's last sojourn, but the current hunters had clearly seen the benefit of having it repaired and manned. With the storm raging, it was of little use, of course, but when it cleared up the watchtower would have a prime view of the entire pass...and anyone who moved around in it.

"Can't have anyone watching," he said.

The path to the tower was treacherous and difficult to climb—he wouldn't be surprised if it was manned for weeks at a time before the crew was relieved by another. Time it right, and no one would realise anything had happened before it was far too late. Unless, of course, a check-in signal was in use. That necessitated some observation, and that was where Ascal would focus his observation for now. Perhaps there was even a non-lethal solution to it all—vampire or not, he did not like the idea of engaging hunters again. Too difficult to fight in groups, and with so many of them in one location...

The Studio was too difficult a target just yet, and Whiteridge he would tackle soon enough. The watchtower would prove a challenging goal in itself, but the perfect way to start things off. In the end, Ascal had no doubt that he would have Sheik and the princess in the palms of his hands. He couldn't wait!

For now, however, it was time to return to Art. Perhaps there was even some tea left...

"Who do you work for?"

"Get fucked—argh!"

"I said, who do you work for?"

Eren stood guard as Nikal tried to get some useful information out of their latest target. They'd cornered him in an alley after leading him on a chase, making him believe they were as harmless as kittens. Eren's knife in his heels had quickly taught him different. Amazing, really, how helpless a man becomes after cutting the tendons...so vulnerable.

He watched one of two exits—the one he was standing at was the only one leading back to the streets. The other led to a sewer grate they'd opened a few hours before, as a secondary escape route in case the first was compromised. There weren't any visible bloodstains ahead, and no windows around them. It would only be by accident that someone stumbled upon their activities.

"You should start talking, if you wanna leave this alley alive," Nikal said, drawing another pained moan from the man. "You can't walk, but right now you can still drag yourself back out. You wanna lose that option too?"

"When the others find me, ye're gonna wish they'd kill you," the man promised, his voice filled with pure loathing. "They'll take turns, with the both of ye! Sell ye on the fucking markets after!"

Nikal made a grunt of discontent. "Eren, what's your favourite finger?"

"Remember to start with the nails," he reminded her, tossing a pair of pliers to her. "It's a shame to waste them."

"Ah, you're right," she said, slapping her forehead. "Eugh, the boss would be so disappointed if he heard that."

"Can't let 'im down," Eren said. Sheik was relying on them to figure out the riddle before he got back...or possibly unravelling the whole damn conspiracy, if possible. That'd surprise him, no doubt! A beginning whimper turned into an agonised howl as Nikal got to work.

"Now, I've got a pretty good grip here, not likely to slip," Nikal said calmly. "I'll start with the pinkie—that one's practically useless, anyway. So...who's your boss?"

To his credit, the man only steeled himself. "Just you wait, girl. Ye'll get it...the both of you will!"

It was going to be a long night.

To be continued…

Boom, update on almost everyone except the power (dumbass) trio and good Doctor! Definitely going to be a timeskip after this one!