Oh my gosh, it's finally here! The next chapter of Corrupted Hero! Hip, hip, hurray!
I feel SO awful for flubbing up my upload schedule. I cannot tell you how sorry I am to leave you all hanging. Life just kind of started to barrel-roll in the fall and all I could do was hold on until the dust settled. I am very sorry for the months-long hiatus. But things have calmed down, now, and I was able to finally sit down and finish up this chapter. Thank you readers, new AND old, for your patience. Your continued readership is very, very much appreciated. :)
So this chapter is fun! I really had a great time writing it. :) It's a bit shorter than the last few, simply because I wanted to fit in certain scenes and get this to you faster. I just hope it's worth the wait... We'll meet some additional characters here in Hateno and I can't wait for you to read. I won't keep you any longer. Just do it!
Enjoy! This is for YOU!
Link had never slept more soundly in his life. While his nights in Kakariko were undoubtedly pleasant, they paled in comparison to the blissful rest he enjoyed in the empty house in Hateno. He dissolved into the bed that night, sleeping so deeply that he didn't even dream. He slept like a rock till nine in the morning, when something smashed against the outside wall, shocking him awake.
He nearly leapt out of his skin at the sound, gulping in a gasp and jolting upright. "What's that?!" he panicked. "What's going on?!"
He wasn't the only one who had gotten a rude awakening. Maz Koshia jolted so hard his hat fell off, the eye on his veil burning with a defensive fire. The monk scrambled to his feet and exchanged a fleeting glance with Link before his head followed the chorus of crashing echoing into the house. It seemed to come from all sides — heavy, clacking thuds that shook the walls and window panes.
"...I think there is someone outside," Maz Koshia said, brows furrowed. He carefully slipped his hat back on. "Who that may be, I'm not sure...?"
Link, fully awake now, turned to the bedside window. He had no idea what he would find out there, but nevertheless flew to investigate. He took up a sword just in case. Snatching his goggles, he yanked them over his face and crawled to the window, opening it and poking his head out.
His eyes were immediately wrenched to the source of the racket: a young man was hard at work swinging the head of a sledgehammer against the house, dislodging bricks as he went. When the window opened, the young man glanced up, half-noticed Link, and reared his arms back to strike the house again. It took him a few seconds to do a double-take once he registered Link's presence.
The young man blinked and took a step back, his dark brows knitting together. "Hey! What are you doing?!" he cried, making Link jump and thunk his head against the window.
Link rubbed the back of his head, stammering, "W-what are you doing?!"
"I'm workin', here!" the young man replied, gesturing his hammer to the house. "This place ain't gonna tear itself down. You shouldn't be in there! Get out, right now!"
Link blinked, stunned. He hadn't expected this. It took a moment for the young man's words to sink in, but even so, Link remained in his place, his body still trying to catch up with his brain. Why was the house being torn down at all?
When Link failed to react, the young man inspected him more closely. His eyes trailed from Link's goggles to his disheveled red hair. "...Wait, were you sleeping in there?" the young man wondered, his face screwing up.
"I-I, uh…" Link mumbled, beginning to sweat.
His blatant guilt was enough of an answer. The young man finally overcame his surprise. Squinting, he held Link in his gaze, turned his head, and shouted for someone. "Boss!? We got a situation!"
Link's stomach dropped. "Oh, no," he muttered under his breath.
He suddenly wished he hadn't slept there. The last thing he wanted was to make a scene. He'd already gone and done that in Kakariko… with disastrous results. But how was he to know that the house was being torn down? Either way, he had to get out of there before he somehow became the scourge of the village. Again.
Without another word, Link shot back inside, slammed the window shut, and hurried off of the bed. He heard the young man shout from outside, "Hey! Get back here!" followed by a flurry of footsteps.
"Crap — crap!" Link hissed to himself. He didn't bother making the bed. He seized up his scarf and packs, shimmying into the straps and sheathing his sword. In his blind haste, he tripped over his own feet as he stampeded down the stairs.
Thankfully, Maz Koshia caught him before he crashed face-first on the floor. "Thanks," Link wheezed.
"Don't mention it."
Righting himself, Link fumbled with his scarf with shaking hands. "We gotta go, Maz! Now!"
Maz Koshia didn't object. He remained calm in spite of everything. But his brows hadn't relaxed — they remained crinkled as he turned his head towards the door. He handed Link his boots, mumbling, "I don't understand why they are doing this… It's not as if you told them to knock down your own house."
Link had been in the middle of hopping on one foot, tugging a boot on, when the monk's words stopped him cold. His head snapped up, his brows skyrocketing. "Wait, what?!"
Before he could prod any further, the front door burst open. Link, already jumpy as it was, flinched and lost his balance, falling to the floorboards in a heap. He faced the three figures standing against the wave of brilliant morning light pouring into the house, his hair frazzled, his goggles askew, scarfless and hoodless, one boot on. Like a tall shadow, Maz Koshia slunk behind the door, hiding from the men who proceeded inside.
Physically, they weren't intimidating by any means. But in that moment, they might as well have been Moblins, what with Link's paralyzing fear of human interaction coupled with the fact that he had been caught trespassing. He cowered beneath them, his spine stiff and his heart stopped cold.
The young man had brought his coworkers. The man next to him was stocky and had a bushy mustache and eyebrows, a pickaxe slung over his shoulder. The other man leading them must have been the boss — slender and confident, he held a logbook in one hand and had a pencil tucked behind his ear. They all wore blue vests, with the boss sporting bright pink trousers and a puffy, striped collar.
"That's the guy, Bolson," the young man said, pointing at Link where he lay. Link cringed upon being spoken to. "He was sleeping here!"
The boss, who Link now knew as Bolson, inspected him with a curl of his lip and tight eyes. Link was too paralyzed to do or say anything. He could only pray that Bolson wouldn't look too closely at his the tips of his horns peeking through his tousled hair. He hadn't gotten his hood on in time.
Miraculously, Bolson was more interested in corroborating his employee's story. He looked from Link and to the loft, making note of the messy bed. He tutted, returning his attention to Link.
"What is going on?" he demanded. "What are you doing, young man, squatting in this empty house? This is private property. What are you, some sort of bum?"
Anxiety boiled in Link's stomach. He somehow managed to say, "I-I'm so sorry, I didn't think it would be a problem! I just needed someplace to spend the night."
Bolson raised a brow. "What, and the Ton Pu Inn suddenly lacked rooms? They don't call it great for nothing, y'know."
Link tried to explain himself. Perhaps he could somehow talk his way out of this mess? It hadn't exactly worked for him before, but he at least had his goggles to hide behind this time. They hadn't seen his face… yet.
"They were full. Really. That was what the girl at the desk told me," Link said. Bolson's brows remained low, unconvinced. Link gulped again, his gaze flickering to where Maz Koshia hid behind the door, silently begging him for help. The monk stood statue-like, listening. He held a finger to his veil as if to shush him.
Unsure as to what he meant by that, Link went on, slowly raising himself into a crouch.
"I'm so sorry — I didn't mean to intrude," he repeated. "I'll leave right now. A-and I'll never come back. You'll never see me again. I promise."
The three men exchanged glances. Link thought for a moment that he had evaded punishment.
Bolson finally shook his head, sighing. "I suppose that even if the inn was full, we'll have to report you to Thadd, regardless. He likes to keep tabs on visitors — especially the ne'er-do-wells." He motioned for his employees, much to Link's horror. Bolson continued, "Karson, Hudson, gents, grab him, won't you? Our little squatter's coming with us."
Karson, the young man, and Hudson, the man with the mustache, obeyed and put down their tools, advancing toward Link.
A bomb of raw panic exploded in Link's chest, blasting his heart into his throat and sending him scrambling away. But he didn't get far — his head hit the dining room table, coaxing a wheeze of terror out of him. Not again. He couldn't believe this was happening again. He couldn't repeat his introduction to Kakariko, his outburst, his imprisonment — he just couldn't. He wasn't sure if his heart and his conscience could take it.
He tried in vain to reason with them. "There's no need for that, really!" he stuttered, shying away from the advancement of Karson and Hudson. "Please, I don't understand why this is such a crime! I didn't mean anything by it!"
Bolson shrugged. "Even if you didn't, we don't take trespassing lightly. What gives you the right to just waltz into someone else's home unannounced? This place doesn't belong to you, now does it?"
"Well, no, but I — !"
But Bolson wouldn't hear it, cutting him off with a huff and another shake of his head. There was no getting through to him. Link choked as his attention was pulled back to Karson and Hudson, who were nearly upon him.
He had no idea what to do. What could he do? He didn't dare defend himself. Not with the possibility of his Malice erupting from him. Should he flash them his face and send them screaming? That might have been his last resort, though he loathed the thought of it. Heart climbing into his throat, he sorted through his limited options. It seemed he had no choice.
But just as he was about to reach for his goggles, a deep, calm voice interrupted them.
"Pardon me, but I have evidence otherwise."
Everyone's attention jerked toward the source of the voice. Link almost collapsed with relief when he recognized it. Maz Koshia slid out from the cover of the door, clasping his hands and gazing upon them all like a judge. Bolson and his men all froze, shrinking beneath the monk's ancient gaze.
"Who… w-who are you?" Bolson breathed, taking in the monk's bones jutting through his leathery skin; the shadows playing off of his skeleton made him look like he had just crawled out of a grave.
Maz Koshia turned his veil upon Bolson, making him flinch back. The monk replied cordially, "I am Maz Koshia, and I know many things." He pointed a bony finger toward the logbook in the crook of Bolson's arm. "For instance, if you look at your records, you will find the title deed to this house." He then gestured toward the rafters, saying, "One hundred years ago, this house's owner set off for Hyrule Castle to report for service. He never came back, and, as you know, left this place vacant ever since.
"Until now, of course." He aimed an open palm at Link, who remained silent, agape at the tale the monk was weaving. "This is he: Link, the owner. Now, I'm sure he would appreciate it if you didn't run him out of his own house."
For what felt like an eternity, everyone stared at the monk, dumbstruck. Bolson finally managed to drag his gaze away and flipped through his logbook, his eyes bulging over his records. Near the back of his book, he found the faded sheet for the house and skimmed through it. His tongue soured when he read Link's name. How had this bizarre creature known about this?!
Turning back to the monk, Bolson gawped, "B-but that's impossible! That was a century ago! He should be dead by now!"
Maz Koshia shrugged. "Well, when you put it that way, yes, I suppose he should be. But he is quite the opposite, as you can see." Pausing, he then tucked an arm beneath his ribcage and rested his elbow on it, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hm… Now that I think about it, I should be, too... What do you think?"
He then proceeded to peel away his veil, exposing his face. Black, empty eye sockets and an open maw full of petrified teeth grinned down at them, weathered skin pulled tight over his skull. The jaws of the men before him all gave a collective drop, their eyes widening to the size of dinner plates — Link included.
Maz Koshia tilted his head with a disturbing crack of his neck, musing, "Do I look dead to you, Bolson?"
Bolson and his employees ripped the air apart with their screams. Turning tail, they stampeded out the door, casting down their belongings and tripping over each other in their desperate escape, howling as they went.
Link stared after them, amazed. A small smile crept across his mouth. He jumped when Bolson's logbook slammed against the floor.
Maz Koshia leaned over to watch them retreat through the doorway. When they had vanished around the corner, a bright giggle bubbled out of him. "Well, that was fun," he said, reapplying his veil. He rested his hands on his hip bones as he thought aloud, "Although, in hindsight, I probably could have handled that a bit better..."
Link blinked off his amazement, gazing up at him. "How do you mean? That was… brilliant."
The monk shrugged. "Why, thank you, Link, but I'm afraid they have a story to tell, now... though I doubt anybody will believe them."
Link's smile faded, his thoughts dawning with what they had just done. If he thought about it, he also doubted anyone would believe Bolson's hysterical tales of a walking, talking mummy. But even so, their fear was surely justified enough to prompt an investigation. And things would only worsen from there. Link suddenly found himself out of breath at the thought of facing another village full of terrified people.
Dread and anxiety brewed in his blood. Link held his head and slumped against the table, groaning, "No, no, no — what did I do? Oh, this is turning into Kakariko all over again…!"
Maz Koshia shook his head. "Not unless we hurry. Come along," he inspirited. "We'll slip away to the research lab before they come back with the others. It will be like we were never here."
Ah, the lab. In all the commotion, Link had almost forgotten what they had come to Hateno for in the first place. The reminder of their purpose reignited some hope within him. Stoking that fire, Maz Koshia offered Link his hand and pulled him to his feet. Once Link had tugged on his other boot and donned his scarf and hood, the pair rushed out of the house.
As they made their way out, Link cast a glance over his shoulder. Somehow, the house's face had changed — it seemed more familiar to him, the glint of sunlight on its windows like a friendly wink. He suddenly felt as though he had seen it a million times over. But could it truly be his house? The thought of that made him feel something akin to belonging.
But he'd have to ask Maz Koshia about it later. For the moment, they couldn't linger. Not wasting a second, they darted across the dewy grass and onto the bridge, bypassing the cluster of model homes on the outskirts of the village. Before they turned onto the main road, Maz Koshia brought the two of them to a halt, where they paused for a moment, hiding behind the main gatepost.
Maz Koshia scouted ahead. Link followed his lead, peering around the monk's bony elbow and into the village. Hateno thrived before them in the fresh morning light, birdsong and chatter filling the air. Children darted about the main thoroughfare, chasing each other with wooden play swords, while shopkeepers beckoned to the dense groups of travelers wandering between storefronts.
Link scoured the crowds for any sign of Bolson and his employees, only managing to track them down when he spotted the unmistakable pink of Bolson's trousers. Link squinted at them all where they stood near a house at the village mouth. They were swarming around a man in a farmer's hat, flinging their arms in the air maniacally. He couldn't hear what they were saying above the bustle of the village, but nonetheless knew they were panicking about Maz Koshia. The man in the hat's brows furrowed. He picked up a pitchfork he had thrust in the ground and asked them something.
Link's heart staggered in his chest, his breath catching. "Too late, Maz," he worried, shaking his head. "They've already told someone!"
Maz Koshia, level-headed as always, didn't so much as blink. "We'd best be quick, then. Look there!" the monk said, grabbing Link by the shoulder and pointing toward the sky. Link followed his finger, laying eyes on a distant tower crowning a soaring hilltop above the village. "There's the lab. We will make our way there. Hurry, now!"
Giving Link a pat on the back, he ushered him toward Hateno proper before dashing away toward the model homes nearby.
Link, grinding to a stop for only a second, called after him, "Wait! Where are you going?"
Maz Koshia waved, calling back, "I'll take another route! I'll follow you up!" before he slipped behind a home and vanished.
Link chewed his lip, worried that someone would see him. How could they not? Ultimately, the reminder of Bolson and the pitchfork-wielding man spurred his feet into action. He had to have faith that the monk knew what he was doing. He had been to Hateno before, after all. Grasping the clasp of his hood, Link ducked his head and jogged into the village.
He wove through the throng on the thoroughfare quickly and quietly, his gaze flickering about for any trace of Bolson or Maz Koshia. But he couldn't seem to find either anywhere he looked. He was grateful for Bolson's scarcity, but how could a towering mummy just disappear? Growing ever more anxious, Link engrossed himself in his search, driving his feet forward. But his anxiety distracted him. He only noticed the man standing in his path until after he had bulldozed him into the dirt.
They hit the ground hard, the man landing flat on his face. Link ended up draped across him. The basket the man had been carrying fell as a result, half a dozen eggs and a bottle of milk cracking open on the ground. Passersby scattered. When the dust had settled, Link realized with a rush of horror what he had done. Gasping, he scrambled off of the poor stranger, rushing to help him.
"Oh man, I am so sorry," Link apologized, getting on hand and knee and reaching for the remains of the man's groceries. Eggshells and yolk slathered the grass; the man's glasses lay in a puddle of milk. Link gathered what was intact, his cheeks burning. "I wasn't watching where I was going, I am so sorry."
Grunting, the man pulled his nose out of the dirt, squinting about him. "Hey, it's no trouble," he dismissed with a grimace. "Busy morning. We've all got places to be."
He eased himself up, feeling around for his glasses. Link, still awash with guilt, placed the surviving eggs into the man's basket and plucked up his glasses, making sure he wiped the lenses on his shirt. But just as he was about to hand them to him, Link froze, finally getting a decent look at the man.
He was a Sheikah. Link recognized the cream-colored coat, pants, and sandals he wore, as well as their trademark silvery hair pulled neatly into a bun atop his head. The man looked to be in his thirties, and sported a trimmed beard and, of course, his glasses, which he continued to search blindly for.
Through blurry vision, the Sheikah turned to Link, who sat motionless in disbelief, still holding out the glasses. A Sheikah was the last thing Link had expected to see this morning. Besides Maz Koshia, of course. Impa had never mentioned there were others outside of Kakariko.
The Sheikah man peered closer at the smudge of his glasses in Link's hand, a smile finding his face. "Oh! Thanks — won't go far without those." He took them from Link, sliding them onto his nose. Now able to see clearly, he offered Link another smile that only lasted for half a second before it slackened.
The man's brows furrowed as he inspected Link's headgear. "...Interesting goggles you have there," he mused. Link couldn't help from breaking into another sweat under his scrutiny. Gaze sifting through Link's lenses, the man continued, "I don't think I've seen you in town before. Where did you get those, if I may?"
Link only managed to answer with an, "Er…" before the man's eyes wandered further. They drifted to Link's cerulean tunic for a moment, widening some, until they landed on the Sheikah Slate on Link's hip. The man's face drained, his lips parting in a silent gasp.
"By the gods…! Is that…? That thing on your waist? Is that a Sheikah Slate?!" he breathed.
"Y-yeah," Link said, his hand flying to the device for some reason. It seemed to pulse with a nervous heartbeat as the man studied it with dumbfounded fascination.
The man's breath kicked up as he gasped with excitement. "There's no mistaking it — that's a real Sheikah Slate, isn't it?! I-I've never actually seen one in person! Wow!" He abruptly paused, his eyes glazing over. His gaze snapped back up to Link as he began, "...Er, your name wouldn't happen to be Link, would it?"
Link blinked, taking his chin back. "That is my name, yes. And you're... you're a Sheikah, aren't you?"
The man nodded. "That I am." He leaned forward eagerly. "And you came from Kakariko?!"
Link nodded back, his brows knitting together. This was happening much too fast. How did he know all that? Link had never met him before.
The man, completely forgetting his errands, leapt to his feet and held out a hand. "Link — I'm Symin. Pleasure to meet you. Quite a pleasure, believe me." Bewildered, but not wishing to be rude, Link took his hand and stood. Symin went on, a glimmer in his eye as he gripped Link's hand and began to pull him along, "Come with me, please. We've been expecting you."
"We?" Link wondered, his brain stumbling over itself.
Symin waved away his question. "I'll explain in a minute. We need to go, right now! Never mind the shopping." Doubling back, he scooped up his basket and motioned for Link to follow him. "I'll finish up later. This is much more important."
"Hold on, where are we going, exactly?" Link pressed as he fell in-stride beside Symin. He didn't want to get side-tracked. Especially not with Bolson on the prowl. "I'm actually kind of in a hurry — I need to get to the Hateno Lab."
Symin merely gave him a smile. "Hm, it seems fate had us meet. Don't worry about it. I work there. I'll give you the grand tour myself. Let's go!"
Link couldn't believe his luck for once. A hopeful smile on his face, he kept pace with Symin as they hustled along the thoroughfare. All the while, Link maintained his vigilance, scouring the crowds for any sign of Maz Koshia or Bolson and the man with the pitchfork. So far, the coast was clear. But where had Maz Koshia gone to?
They had just passed the inn when Link took one final scan of the township. Still no sign of Bolson. A tad more at ease, Link brought his eyes around, only to brush his gaze upon a familiar skeletal figure tucked behind a tree in a distant backyard. The figure beckoned to him with a wave.
Link skidded to a halt, his hand finding Symin's sleeve and pulling him to a stop as well.
"Something wrong?" Symin wondered.
Link paused, his mind suddenly racing. He hadn't thought this far ahead. What would Symin think of Maz Koshia? Link already knew what Bolson and his employees thought of him. Link was afraid he might squander his luck and send Symin screaming, but figured he had to let him know sooner or later. There weren't many places to hide someone like Maz Koshia.
Link's eyes flew from the monk and to Symin, who blinked in anticipation. Fidgeting, Link lowered his voice, saying, "Erm, Symin? D-don't panic, okay? I'm... traveling with a monk."
"A monk?" Symin repeated, eyes clouding over slightly. "What do you…?"
Link pointed over Symin's shoulder. Symin turned his head, a brow cocked. The pair watched Maz Koshia step out from the shade of the tree before offering them a low, polite bow.
Symin dropped his basket of his own accord this time. The last of the eggs shattered, but, much to Link's awe, Symin couldn't have cared any less. He merely gawped at Maz Koshia for a few solid seconds before a wild smile snuck across his lips. His eyes shone with stars.
"I'm glad I got out of bed today," Symin squeaked. Unblinking, he turned to Link, still grinning. He waved a hand, both to Link and Maz Koshia. "Follow me! No time to waste!"
Unfortunately, while they had stopped to behold the monk, the Bolson Construction Company had pushed their way through the crowd and spotted them. Link's ears perked when he heard a voice shout, "There he is!"
Link's head flew in their direction. His blood flushed with panic upon seeing the group stampeding towards them. He was about to take off sprinting down the path, but Symin remained in his place, more than a little curious about what was going on. Link, hesitant to linger, half-hid himself behind Symin's shoulder, desperate to make himself scarce.
The four men came to a rough stop before Link and Symin, sweat glistening on each of their faces. Karson and Hudson huddled close to their boss, eyes flicking about, while Thadd, the man in the farmer's hat, gave Link a troubled look from head to toe.
Meanwhile, Bolson threw his head left and right, his wide eyes scouring the area like a crazed hawk. After coming up short on his target, he whirled on Link, making him jump when he cried, "You! Squatter! Where is it?! That mummy!?"
Symin shot Link a split-second glance out of the corner of his eye. Link caught it, though he wasn't sure how much panic he could convey through his goggles. Already sweating, Link gulped and turned back to Bolson, mustering out, "I-I don't know what you're talking about."
Bolson stabbed a finger at him, spitting, "Don't you lie to me! Where is it?! Where are you hiding it?! And what does it plan on doing with us?!"
Before Link could utter any more half-baked lies, Symin stepped in, shaking his head. "Excuse me… a mummy?" he repeated. "What are you talking about?"
"It was with him!" Bolson shoved another finger at Link. "In the old house outside of town! And it was huge! With no eyes, l-like a skeleton — "
Bolson cut himself off when he noticed the looks Symin and Thadd were giving him. They both looked upon him as though something with rather long legs were crawling up his face.
"Don't look at me like that! I'm NOT crazy!" Bolson blurted. "I KNOW what I saw!"
Finally, Symin scoffed, "Well, as a man of science, I can tell you that mummies don't just get up and walk, Bolson. And even if they did, they wouldn't be wandering around Hateno."
Bolson froze, absolutely disgusted with Symin. His brows skyrocketed, his pupils shrinking. He slapped a hand against his chest before gesturing to his employees, crying, "But I saw it! We ALL did!" Karson and Hudson both gave hurried nods.
Symin turned to Thadd, who was tapping his foot. "Did you see anything, Thadd?" Symin asked. The man pursed his lips and shook his head, a frustrated huff escaping his nostrils. Bolson fumed at that, his ears turning pink.
Symin returned his attention to him. He laid a hand on Bolson's shoulder, making the man twitch. Symin cooed at him, "Don't be ridiculous, Bolson. You all work too hard. Really, you ought to take a vacation. I hear Lurelin Village is lovely this time of year." Bolson choked on Symin's dismissal. He then concluded, picking up his basket, "Anyway, my friend and I must be going. Have a nice day!"
Turning to leave, he motioned for Link to follow. He left Bolson and his employees shell-shocked, gaping after them. Before Link could fall in-step behind Symin, he offered a feeble wave to the men before him.
"Bye," he whimpered.
He truly felt bad for making them seem so foolish, but all the same, the reaction Maz Koshia had gotten out of them was nothing short of incredible. He didn't realize how much he needed something like that. It was… cathartic.
As Link turned his back on them, the group erupted in an uproar of anger and defiance. But Link didn't dare look back. It was all he could do to keep his smile straight as Thadd shepherded the Bolson Construction Company back into town.
Well, that had gone better than expected.
Keeping a slow pace to deter suspicion, Link and Symin left the inn behind and wove their way through the outskirts of Hateno along the slowly-inclining path. The houses gradually grew few and far between, replaced instead with a terraced tapestry of fields lined with scarecrows. A scattering of people lingered about, but those that were nearby were preoccupied with chores and other errands. They didn't give them a passing glance.
Once Link was sure they were out of earshot of Bolson, he muttered, "Thanks, Symin. I really owe you one."
Symin shrugged it off with a smile. "My pleasure. Those three are a handful, but they're harmless, trust me. I take it Bolson and his boys caught a glimpse of your monk, yes?"
Link nodded. "He scared them half to death back there."
Symin chuckled. "Well, it's a sight they'll never forget, that's for sure. I know I'll never forget seeing him myself." He leaned back, his eyes glittering as he stared into the sky. "Imagine it! A real-life Sheikah monk! If I could have just five minutes with him, I'd be forever in yourdebt. I have so many questions I don't even know where to start!"
As if on cue, a deep voice joined the conversation. "I would be happy to indulge you."
Link and Symin both turned toward the voice's source. He disappeared and reappeared between the staggered apple trees lining the road, like a firefly flickering in the night. The monk strode casually, his long hair breezing behind him, his fingers clasped. Upon seeing him in his towering, ancient majesty, Symin stopped in the middle of the path, awe-stricken.
"Oh, wow," he whispered.
Link and Maz Koshia followed his suit, stopping. As the monk gave Symin another bow of greeting, Link couldn't help but find himself smiling at Symin's reverence towards him. It only served to remind him of just how astronomical it was that Maz Koshia was even there. Walking. Breathing. A figure from an era far beyond either of their existences; a wellspring of history, guidance, and intelligence standing before them. It was extraordinary.
Link almost felt as though he had to make introductions. He strode a few steps towards the monk and extended an arm, presenting him to Symin. "Symin, this is Maz Koshia."
Symin hurried over, returning the monk's bow with a deep bow of his own. "I am humbled to be in your presence, Maz Koshia," he breathed.
Maz Koshia chuckled softly. "As am I to you." Symin's spine visibly shuddered as Maz Koshia spoke. He listened intently as the monk continued, "It pleases me to see our heritage alive and thriving in these latter days." Symin then gave a sharp gasp when the monk reached out and laid a bony hand on his shoulder, continuing warmly, "Thank you ever so much for keeping the flame of the Sheikah burning bright, Symin."
When Symin straightened, his eyes were swimming behind his glasses. His breath shook as he replied, "Y-y-you're welcome." He lowered his gaze, his brows lowering. "S-sometimes… I don't even know if this is all worth it, but… hearing that… from you…!" He gave another bow. "Thank you."
"You are most certainly welcome," the monk replied. He gestured to the path zigzagging up the steep hill before them. "Now, I will be happy to answer any questions you may have as we walk. In exchange, however, I require your help."
Symin's eyes bulged. "A-anything you need! Just name it!"
"Thank you," Maz Koshia chuckled, smiling. "I understand you work at the lab. I will need to borrow some of your equipment, if possible." He turned to Link, choosing his words carefully. "Link and I have journeyed here to… run a few examinations. Would that be all right, Symin?"
Link's stomach chilled at Maz Koshia's explanation. Link was eager to have some tests run, to finally find some answers, but even so, he dreaded what they'd find. Still, it needed to be done. He couldn't bear to be in the dark about his own fate any longer. Link merely swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and gave a small nod.
Symin's eyes hit Link, then. They darted up and down his body, almost as if he were scanning him, dissecting him. Link shifted under his sharpened gaze. Not only had it sharpened, but it had also… darkened. As if he knew something. Something wrong. Something that made his jaw grind.
Ultimately, Symin complied reverently with, "Of course. We have everything you need."
"Excellent. Shall we?" Maz Koshia said brightly.
"Right this way," Symin said with a smile.
Now with more fervent purpose in their steps, the trio set off up the hill. Link and Symin remained on the path while Maz Koshia followed from the cover of the trees. As they walked, the two Sheikah filled the morning air with excited chatter — Symin rapid-fired questions off to Maz Koshia, the monk responding with his answer. In the roughly twenty-minute hike to the lab, they discussed everything from photography to horticulture to Guardian operating systems and everything in-between.
It was all a bit too much for Link to process. He followed as much as he could, but for some reason, his ears were buzzing and his breath was shallow. His stomach churned with nausea as he walked, his hand gripping the Sheikah Slate in a death-grip. He didn't notice it for the majority of the walk.
When the final house on the hillside had fallen behind them, Maz Koshia emerged from the trees and joined them on the path. The monk had noticed Link's silence; he stepped in-stride beside him, laying a gentle palm on his shoulder. Link jumped slightly, glancing up to him. He caught a glimpse beneath the monk's veil — a small smile upturned the corner of his mouth, reassuring him. Somehow, Link's hold on the Slate loosened.
Meanwhile, Symin took no notice. Like Link, he shrank in the monk's imposing height, but nevertheless feasted his eyes on every square inch of him that he could, as if burning him into his memory. His weathered skin, his silvery hair, his veil, his chunky gold necklace. Symin just couldn't get enough. Even through his inspection of the monk, he never stopped talking — and Maz Koshia never stopped answering.
Before long, the tower Link had seen from the village came into view at the crest of the hill. It had once been only a windmill, but since transformed into a sentinel for the strange amalgamation of technology and building it was attached to. A ramshackle staircase spiraled around its tower, trailing up from the roof of a house. The roof sagged beneath the weight of a tremendous telescope of Sheikah design, aimed inland. A Sheikah sigil painted on the front door greeted them, and a bizarre, bulbous stone structure stood nearby, also of Sheikah design. Next to it, a sign read in angry red letters: ANCIENT FURNACE. VERY HOT! DON'T TOUCH! However, this furnace was cold, its receptacle empty.
Link blinked at the sight of the lab. It wasn't entirely what he was expecting, but then again, he wasn't sure what form Sheikah technology would take next. It was as fascinating as it was confusing. He ran his eyes over the lab, wondering what awaited him inside. Surely, there had to be other people there? Symin had mentioned a we.
Maz Koshia strode with determination as they approached, eager to go in, but Symin slowed them down when they reached the doorstep. He held up a hand, proposing, "Wait here a moment. I need to… er… prepare her." Doing as he said, Maz Koshia and Link stood in their places as Symin opened the door and slipped inside a few steps, keeping the door ajar.
"Purah!?" he shouted, his voice a tad on the unsure side. "I'm — I'm back!"
Symin partially blocked the view into the lab, obscuring the owner of the voice that responded to him. It was young, sweet, full of energy. It almost reminded Link of little Cottla back in Kakariko. The girl's response was accompanied by the clattering of pots and pans.
"Already?! Great! I've got a big surprise!" the girl, who Link registered as Purah, cried.
A grin spread across Symin's face. He turned his head back slightly to glance at Link and Maz Koshia on his doorstep. "Er… I do too!" he replied.
"Ooh, I bet my surprise is bigger!" she cheered.
Symin bit back a giggle. "We'll, uh, see about that. Y-you go first."
"Okay, well, remember that uber fancy coffee we tried at the inn?"
"I remember," Symin replied. "It helped me through a few projects."
"Great stuff, right?! They got it all the way from Faron! Well, see, I ground and drank the last of the samples they gave us — Sorry! Had to! — so I had more special ordered. It finally came just barely! By Rito postman, no less." She giggled, pausing. Link thought he heard a bag of something rattle. "Mmm, smell that! Honestly, what could be better than that, Symin? Huh? Huh?"
Symin gestured for Link and Maz Koshia to enter the lab, stepping aside for them. The two of them exchanged a brief glance before stepping inside, the monk allowing Link to enter first. Again, Maz Koshia had to duck to clear the doorway.
They entered a rather cramped, single-room laboratory. The room itself was spacious, but the small army of bookshelves and tables crowding the area, along with the low candlelight, seemed to make the walls shrink in. An ocean of papers littered the floor, each one crammed with drawings and writing. On a small raised stage to their left, a familiar pedestal jutted — identical to the one Link had plucked the Sheikah Slate from. Above the pedestal, a thick stone stalactite dripped from the ceiling. Hanging above the clutter were the warm and toasted aromas of candle wax and coffee beans.
Link took a quick survey of the room before his eyes were drawn to the large table at the lab's heart, where a girl waited.
She had to be Purah. She couldn't have been more than six years old. Like Symin, she too was a Sheikah, dressed in an oversized cream-colored coat she had fashioned into a skirt to fit her tiny frame. Her snowy hair sat atop her head in a decorative bow secured with chopsticks and a pair of goggles. Link squinted at them, noting how similar they were to his own. Practically… identical. Amber in color. Turquoise lenses. They appeared to be only an accessory, as she wore a pair of large, cherry-red, rounded glasses.
What struck Link the most about her were her eyes, however. The other Sheikah he had met had all had dark eyes. But hers were anything but. They were a striking shade of scarlet.
When they walked in, they found Purah stood on a stool to reach a mortar and pestle on the tabletop. She was about to set down the burlap bag filled with glittery black coffee beans when she turned to face Link, Symin, and Maz Koshia.
As her eyes spread wide to take them in, Symin beamed, "How about a champion and a monk?"
"Hello," Link and Maz Koshia said in unison.
That was when the bag of beans hit the floor.
Dang, what a fun chapter! I really enjoyed exploring the sections with the Bolson and the construction company. I have nothing against these guys, but I just wish they would get off my darn lawn! Consider this a bit of payback for being squatters in your own right! XD
Needless to say, I had too much fun with Maz Koshia in this one. It was great exploring more of his personality and his relationships. He's an awesome character and I can't wait to get to know him more. I hope you enjoyed him as much as I did!
As for Purah and Symin... ooh, they'll be another fun duo to explore. I hope you enjoy their roles in this story. They will play a big part in the chapters to come.
Anyway, let me know what you thought! Any questions? Concerns? Critiques? I love to hear your feedback!
Thank you SO MUCH for reading and sticking through with this story even through my crazy life.
I'll see you next chapter (and it won't take 4 months this time!)!