PART FIVE - THE SHADOW OF MY KIN

Viktor had asked her if he could have a word in private. Katie, who had been burning red from one of Link's sophistries, immediately blossomed pink like a spring flower. The manor burned its candles but the hallways were still eerily dark.

The sun sank behind the cliffs less than an hour ago, leaving long trails of dying light in the windows. He led her to the drawing room at the bottom of the stairs just to the right, clicking his way into the key from his pocket and allowed her to go first before closing it behind himself.

His first reaction was reproach as he traced a finger on the table nearby, leaving a thin trail free of dust. "I should have a word to her about this."

"What is this about?" Katie asked, glowing nervously. The room held no light except for hers and the small candle he carried. The furniture looked like lumps in the dark. The air was musty, old; no one had visited this room in a while.

"It's a matter of the red tunic," he said, his lined face looking grim.

She glowed. "Did you find it?"

"No, because I haven't started."

For a moment, Katie thought she misheard him. Her and Link have been in town only for a few days, and in those days she had expected to hear a report from Viktor, a clue about the red tunic. Now the butler stood in front of her, stoic in his black attire, face unchanged, unmoved like a statue.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, feeling some fear now. "You didn't—"

"I know it's ludicrous but you must understand our circumstances." His eyes were firm. "As you surely might have heard, Lord Lawrence had been murdered, the perpetrator escaped leaving the gun behind."

"I know this," Katie said, that uneasiness increased. She didn't know when Viktor became so intimidating and she found herself shrinking a little under his unwavering, dark eyes.

"And you are aware, of course, of the dreadful news of our dear hunters and scouts? I have always taken you as an intelligent and reasonable fairy, are you not?"

"I-I like to think myself as."

"Therefore, I hope you understand that while I—excuse my bluntness—do not think highly of your companion, I will admit that his employment is somewhat of an expediency. My Lord thinks so himself."

Katie's color changed. "You don't mean—"

"Link must stay for a while. A little longer than two weeks," Viktor said firmly. "The town will not last long. When—if the other villages receive our missives, we will be able to weather this with their assistance. Until then, I must as for your discretion. I do not have the time to look for the red tunic, not with the duties that my Lord is left with."

"Lord Silas is capable though," Katie argued but not so strongly, as she could feel herself turning a little white. The world suddenly felt so big and her so small. The room seemed to be expanding and Viktor seemed to be looming over her.

"He is capable," Viktor said slowly. "But he is still young and still grieving for his family. I'd rather not have him deal with both the town and monsters if that could be helped. While I find Link barely tolerable," his teeth gritted slightly, "I will suffer him longer if it means to lift some of the burden from my Lord's shoulder. Do you understand?"

Katie thought of Silas's tired smile, the bags under his eyes, the way his shoulders looked slumped as if they've been carrying a heavy weight for so long that they lost their strength to stand up straight. She thought of seeing him smile, really smile and beam out. People spoke about how their Lord was actually very optimistic and chatty. She hadn't seen much of both.

"Of course," Katie said at once. "But we should…we need to keep this from Link."

"Evidently."

"And you have to promise that you will look for the red tunic later. I won't be able to keep him distracted for long."

Viktor looked indignant. "I will do as I have promised. I simply don't have the time to do it all at once now."

"I know. I just mean that—"

"I must go see to his Lordship. Do you need anything else?"

"I do kind of want to see Lord Silas myself," Katie said hesitating a bit when Viktor's eyes narrowed.

The butler had made himself very clear on many occasions that they were not to disturb Lord Silas at all. The only time Katie had ever managed to see him was if he woke up early enough to have breakfast with them. She had been so excited whenever she had the chance to speak to him, though Link found her enthusiasm an eye roll.

"Only for a short minute," the butler said. "He will be very tired."

Katie nodded and the butler turned for the door. He couldn't have noticed her color shifting a little to a little pale pink, and even if he saw it he would never have guessed that it was the color of a twisting guilt. There was a moment in their discussion in where she was very tempted to tell him about Lady Sophia.

Katie knew that girl was weird but who would have thought that she was cold blooded killer? Not long after their father was killed, this lunatic killed her brother's fiancé. In just a matter of months, Silas had lost his father, and then his lover to his sister, and now he was left all alone.

But Link had her swear for silence. He was very much serious on keeping this a secret. He didn't care for the girl, though he admitted it was a shame since she was a 'gorgeous piece of work'. The town's situation was already complicated and he didn't want to get more involved. Plus, he didn't think associating themselves with a killer would be a good idea.

And so, with a heavy conscious, Katie had to keep this secret to which she swore to the Goddesses not to tell a soul. This was almost as bad as helping Sophia murder poor Lady Irela but there was something else to think about. Sophia was all the way out of town, where the hunters and scouts disappeared. Maybe she would meet the same fate and do everyone a favor? The thought helped her through the guilt.

Though it didn't disappear, only amplified as Viktor turned to her. "Not a word of this, I should hope."

"Of course." The pale pinkish color only grew. It came from the sense of betrayal. If Link knew about this, he'd be mad.

No, mad was a soft word for it. She shuddered slightly at the thought of it. For the sake of this town, she prayed he would never find out about this.

The two went up the stairs, and her moment of guilt melted as it was replaced with a little excitement. She really did wish to sit down with Lord Silas one day, maybe even talk for a while. It's been so long since she was in the company of a noble. Being with Link for so long was doing something to her.

However, as they reached the study they found it slightly ajar. They saw a splatter of broken glass that had once been sitting on the table above it. The window was open. The chair behind the desk was empty.

"Maybe he went to sleep?" Katie suggested.

Viktor's frown deepened. "It's too early and he hadn't taken his medication yet." He went to Silas's private chambers in short, quick strides, unaware that Katie was following him.

He knocked on the doors then threw them open when there was no reply. "My Lord?"

Empty.

"Maybe the drawing room?" Katie asked. He could be enjoying tea.

Empty as well.

Now sweat began to break on Viktor's face. It was very strange to see that imperturbable expression cracking bit by bit as they searched from one room to another, his voice raising one note at a time until he was nearly shrilling. "Lord Silas!"

Sally burst from the stairs, looking alarmed. "What's all the shouting?"

"We can't find Lord Silas!" Katie exclaimed, beaming into a fearful glow.

The maid looked horrified. "He couldn't have gotten out though! Maybe he went to one of the rooms?"

Viktor ignored them both. He barged through the doors at either side of the corridor, even using his key to unlock them. No one told him that it was a wasted effort since he was the one who had all the keys. Now the sweat was making his face shine, the candle trembled in his hand where drops of wax were burning into his skin. He didn't seem to notice, didn't even care.

"This is no time to give me a heart attack!" he neatly cried out, throwing a door open. "For Hylia's sake, I have enough of those already!"

The intimidating, almost daunting servant was gone, leaving behind an old man rattled to his bones.

"Stop losing your wit!" Sally snapped, though she was shaking a little herself. "He-he has to be around here."

"Lord Silas!" Viktor yelled.

"Stop your noise, old man! You're scaring us both!"

Viktor stopped, as if snapped out from some trance. He tried to regain his decorum by tapping napkin over his forehead but his hand was trembling badly. Katie understood the real reason behind his fear. "You think someone took him?"

Could it be Lawrence's murderers? Perhaps those who have foraged the deed?

Now Sally's face really did pale and she seemed nearly faint. Any thought of trying to calm the butler gone seemed pointless. "Oh, oh Silas!"

"We need to get Link then!" Katie was almost shouting herself but then she and Viktor paused. They had rushed into every hallway, nearly to all the rooms even those that have been locked. They haven't seen Lord Silas at all.

Nor have they seen Link.

At once, it came to her. It came to her like a sudden slap to the face. Link had been fuming just the same as her when they walked into the manor just a few hours ago. She didn't remember their argument exactly—they have a lot of those—just remembered that she had left him to his own devices. She had left him alone for a very long time, something she rarely done since that boy attracted trouble like moths to light.

Viktor understood it too and now the white expression on him was turning to a hot coal.

"He couldn't have," Katie said, laughing a little at the absurdity of it. No way. He was crazy, okay, but he would never go that far right?


Oh but he did.

Dealing with her on a daily basis was like having nails pounded into his skull. He'll have to give it to her: no one had been able to wind him up this much in so long. Somehow she just knew what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. She had gotten really quick with it too, and they both were too stubborn to back down.

He had been so grateful to have a few hours to himself. His brain was ready to burst from its skull. The argument had been one of many about the questionable losses of his money. Since he gave Frank a peace offering, Katie was keeping an assiduous eye on his wallet as if she was the one earning it.

Link certainly didn't like returning back to the manor with its almost brooding atmosphere, and the darkness that leaked from the corners, making it look more bloviated. Even a cemetery was more welcoming. He was truly curious in how shorty could still decide to live here when there was no reason to at all. Everyone he knew was either dead or just a jackass. Why live in a manor that was long dead?

Link tried to read a book on his own but the lessons he had with Katie developed this inside voice that mimicked her voice. This voice was critical, obnoxiously mocking him for the stuttering and mistakes. The text was large for him, as it was a children's book but it was so hard to identify them. In the end, he threw the book on the wall, creating a dent in it.

He considered burning it too but the idea had been a little horrifying so he tossed the book away and decided to bother Silas because why not?

Silas was still in his chair as if he was born on it. His bangs hung down his face as his lips moved along the words. Once again, Link felt that stab of envy at looking over the neat, almost perfect lines of smooth cursive. It really was art. How could it be anything else? The words were laced together in a lovely pattern with rising and falling loops. It looked as if they were dancing.

If I could write like that…

Silas wore the dreadful black robe that made him look like an undertaker. He didn't seem to care to wear anything but.

"Is that all you ever do?" Link asked, closing the door behind him.

Silas carefully masked his annoyance. "I would appreciate it if you knocked."

"Yeah, whatever. Any news on the tunic?"

Silas sighed, his eyes never leaving the paper as his quill danced above the parchment. Link found himself watching it keenly. "Please take your concerns to Viktor. I'm sure he must've uncovered something about now."

After a few seconds of writing in silence, Silas stopped writing and Link quickly looked away from the paper. "You're still here," Silas observed.

"Uh huh." Link looked over the antiques on the table that was jutted out from the side of the wall behind the couch. There was a black marbled shape of a man's face.

Silas picked up his writing pace. "And why are you still here?"

"I'm bored." The marble was very smooth under his fingers and he stared into its eyeless sockets with interest.

"And you came here to entertain yourself?"

Link tilted the head, fascinated by the small little details, the hours that must've been put in there. "Figured you might not be so boring but I guessed wrong."

He underestimated just how smooth the shape was since it easily escaped his fingers and would have shattered on the ground if he didn't scoop it up in time. His elbow did knock back a vase in that moment of frenzy, and he sucked a breath through his teeth when it shattered to the ground.

Silas covered his face with exasperation. Link chuckled a little nervously, placing the head back to place. "Uh, that wasn't expensive, right?"

"Din's flames just take me," Silas muttered. "Look, it's fine. Can you please leave now?"

Link stopped when he saw a strong wooden figure that looked as if two people were intertwined, like they were frozen in a middle of a twirling dance. "What's this?"

"Can you not touch that?" Silas barely hide the great irritation from his voice.

Link weighed the thing in his hands. "Not bad. Where'd you get this?"

"Link."

Link rolled his eyes and set it back. "What?"

Silas's eyes narrowed. "I would like it if you speak to me with some respect."

Link sat back in the seat that stood on the other side of the desk, a cocky smile on his face. He placed one boot on the edge of the table—not anywhere close to the paper—and leaned back. Now that he looked at it, he remembered how Silas looked familiar when he first met him. He had been familiar. He was a lot similar to Sophia with dark hair and grey eyes, the suppose traits of the Haidrund family. Only Sophia was taller.

Other than that, there were obvious discrepancies between their personalities. Maybe that was why he didn't see it the first time. They don't even feel like siblings.

"Are you saying you want me to kiss your ass?" Link asked.

"And watch your language." Silas could've carried on until he started to cough. It was only short though, but it sounded rough, raspy. Then it passed, Silas heaving out a little bit.

Link pretended not to notice but he couldn't help but wonder how does anyone live a life like that. He had asked Katie on the disease and apparently Silas was too weak to even fight. He couldn't learn swordplay if his life depended on it. He could run but not for a long time. He would need to take medication daily and sometimes hourly too.

Silas cleared his throat a little, sitting back down. He eyed Link's foot that rested on the edge of his desk. "Do you mind?"

"Mind what?"

"Link, I don't have time for this!"

"Don't you ever get bored though?" Link asked curiously. "Seriously, you just sit here and write papers!"

"I don't write papers," Silas grunted, taking one of the many papers from one side and placing it down in front of him, over the one he had been writing. "They're just contracts I plan to arrange with business entrepreneurs should they visit the town. I'm mostly signing request and seeing through the villager's inquires."

"And you're telling me that's exciting?"

Silas paused, the quill still in its ink box. "Someone needs to do it and if it keeps me locked away then so be it." He almost sounded determined too.

"I bet you sneak out," Link said and watched Silas froze a little. Link grinned. "I knew it! Goody two shoes over here doesn't sound too goody. Wonder what Katie would have to say?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Silas spluttered, turning a little red. "I would never—"

"Come on, who did you sneak off with?"

"That is none of your business. Get out!"

"Tell me," Link whined.

"Get. Out."

"Tell me and I'll get out."

"No, you will leave because I'm telling you to leave."

Link ignored him. "Just tell me and stop being a little bitch about it."

Silas's reaction was even better than Link had hoped for. "You-you can't talk to me like that!"

Link snorted, grinning. "Why not?"

Silas's face darkened. "Look here, I am the Lord of this manor and either you respect me or—"

"You're not the Lord."

Silas stopped. "What?"

Link shrugged. "The deed's toast so you can't be a Lord, can you?"

"What kind of nonsense it that? Of course I'm the Lord!"

"Then why is the deed gone?"

"I—" Silas's lips pursed, and for a minute he didn't look like he knew what he was going to say. "I don't know but I intend to find it." He sighed exasperatedly. "Link, what is the purpose of this? Are you doing this just to wind me up?"

"A little," Link admitted, grinning wickedly. "Aw, don't look at me like that. You really do need to blow off some steam."

Silas closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. "Okay, if you're mission was to irritate me, then you've accomplished that and more. Now please leave me alone."

Link got up with his hands raised. Rather than leaving, he settled for the couch instead, taking out an orange he saved for later. "Don't mind me, your highness. I'll keep it quiet."

"Link—"

"Relax. I don't do anything."

Silas eyed him as if trying to see if he was telling the truth or not. Then he sat back and went to work. The scrubbing sound of his quill was, as Link found, a little comforting. It was then combined with the sound of Link's obnoxious chewing. Silas's jaw clenched slightly but whatever his thoughts were on that, he was not going to give Link the satisfaction of seeing it.

Then there was Link yawning audibly Silas had to acknowledge, then the incessant way Link drummed his fingers on the table in a too casual manner. With each passing of a minute, the quill seemed to be scribbling a little faster and a little harder against the paper.

It took only two words from Link to shatter that forced concentration. "Almost done?"

The chair squealed when Silas shoved it back. He stood up, hands slammed down on either side of the paper. "For the love of me, what would it take for you to shut up?"

Silas froze, face flushed, hands balled to fists. It took him a moment to realize he stepped into Link's trap. Link grinned. "There, you see? Let out a little steam."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Silas demanded. "I have a lot of paperwork to do!"

Link finished up his orange. "I don't see what's so important about them. It's not like they're the ones stopping the monsters for you."

Those grey eyes sharpened, and for a moment he resembled a lot like Sophia. How had Link not seen the connections? "You got what you came here for. Leave."

Link lifted a finger. "Ah, there you see. You're still acting like that." With false concern, he advised. "Take a deep breath. It helps."

"You're a jerk."

Link grinned. "Aw, thanks, shorty."

"That wasn't a compliment. And stop calling me shorty! Now go bother someone else. I'm stressed as it is, and I don't need you addling me!"

Link paused when his stomach still continued to whine. He could ask for food but with the way Sally was glaring at him, he wouldn't trust her to give him water without Silas around. Then he thought of sake, beautiful sake and a certain villainous fairy forbidding him from it. He couldn't spend his wallet on a rock without her knowing it.

Then he came up with a brilliant idea. "Hey, you're rich aren't you?"

Silas stopped, eyeing Link but not answering.

"Yeah, your family's like the second place or something, right?"

"What is this about?" Silas asked finally.

Link grinned, his eyes dancing as he strolled over to Silas and grabbed him by the arm. "You're coming with me."

Silas was shocked at first until they arrived at the door. "What—where—let me go!" Silas tried and failed to take his hand back.

"You owe me a drink."

"Since when?" Silas choked. "Let me go!"

"Aw, are you scared?" Link stopped, and Silas took back his hand only because Link let him. Silas glared at him, stepping back.

"You want me to bring in Viktor to hold your hand for you? That's it, isn't it? You can't do anything without him telling you?" Link asked.

"I—he's just a servant," Silas insisted.

"Then prove it." Link patted his back roughly, making the shorter Lord groan. "Take your wallet and let's go! It'll be quick, I promise."

Silas yelped when Link moved to grab him. Silas rushed over and placed himself so that the desk was between them, as if that would do anything.

Link tusked. "Come on, shorty."

"You can't be serious!" Silas stayed behind the desk, his eyes fixed at the door. If he could reach it before Link and run down the hall, he might get help. Silas kept twitching from one side and to the other but Link was ready. "Link, please be reasonable. I'll give you money. Really, it's no issue. But I can't leave!"

Link ignored him and ran out from one side of the desk while Silas went the other way. He never had the chance to reach the door by the time Link placed a hand on his shoulder.

"It'll be fun," Link assured him. "Trust me, you'll love it."

"This is madness," Silas uttered, trying to push him off. "You're mad."

"We won't be gone too long," Link said coolly.

"Viktor! Sally!" Silas called out as Link shoved him towards the window. They won't be able to use the front door like this.

"You have your wallet with you?" Link asked.

"That—you will not be taking me anywhere!"

"Do you have it or not?"

"Just take it and leave me be!" Silas snapped, going through one of the drawers and shoved a small sack tied by a piece of small rope. Link gaped when he saw some purple rupees mixed with red ones. This shorty was carrying it around like it was just pocket change.

"This is great!" Link opened the window while Silas sighed out, looking relieved.

"So now you'll finally leave me be?"

"No," Link said simply, grabbing Silas's shirt before jumping out the window.


Silas's hands didn't stop shaking even when they finally arrived to their destination. The cloak Link lent him was stuffy, reeking of the scent of one who had travelled for a long time. His face was dark beneath his hood, and the weather made him shiver.

"You're kidnapping me. This is kidnapping," he muttered frantically. "I could call the guards on you. I'll scream for them."

"You could do that," Link said casually, bouncing Silas's sack of money in his hand gleefully. "But people will start to wonder why their young Lord would be in a place like this."

"So that's it. You're trying to ruin me," Silas accused below his breath.

"You're the one that'll be doing that if you peep out." Link shoved the doors and they were immediately washed over by raucous noises and strong smell of something burning and cooking.

Silas hesitated at the threshold but Link just hooked his arm over his neck and dragged him along. "Wh-when we get back to the manor, Link, I swear—"

Link snorted. "Who says I'll be taking you back? You're on your own."

Silas paled. "You're going to just leave—"

"Just be quiet and we'll make this quick. You need to make everything complicated?"

Silas was baffled. "Me? I make—I'm the one being complicated?"

Link sighed. "Just be quiet. You'll forget about this in the morning."

"What are you—" Silas was horrified when he understood. "I will not be drinking."

He saw a grin crawling to Link's face.

"No, I won't do it."

Link didn't say anything as he continued to drag Silas over to the counter. There were many people here, more than he thought. The hoopla of it could be heard from outside, the lights were yellow in their scones that hung on the mountings on the wall, next to several displays from games of hunting.

At first glance, it looked like utter chaos with men shouting and pounding on their tables and wrestling with arms. It looked like a fight would break out soon. After being in his quiet, nearly suffocating manor for so long, the noise felt like thunder, frightening and violent.

Silas clung to Link's side like a scared puppy. "This madness. Can we please leave?"

Link chuckled. "What, getting cold feet already? We just got here. Besides, you owe me a drink."

"I could've just bought you one," Silas hissed. He couldn't keep his feet planted down since Link was far too strong. To anyone, they looked like a bunch of young men messing around.

"Don't think so." Link rested his forearm against the counter. "The best kind of drinks come from the bar man himself, or am I wrong?"

The bartender was short with a curly mustache. He cleaned a mug with a dirty rag that could have given Viktor a heart attack. "Why don't you sit back and try it out then? What can I get you boys?"

Link ordered himself a feast and then was nice enough to ask if Silas wanted anything. Silas would've rebuffed him but then his own stomach groaned. He figured if he was going to be stuck here, he might as well order himself a cake. The two then found a table at the side of the bar where men were starting a fistfight.

Link didn't care for that as he propped up his boots on the table and leaned a little too far in his seat. "Can you relax? If you keep doing that, people will get suspicious."

Silas couldn't help himself. He couldn't help but wonder if someone was staring at him and would recognized who he was so he kept on dragging down the hood low enough to nearly cover his vision.

A young woman passed by their table wearing scandalous dress that cupped her chest and showed her curves. Her blond hair tied into a ponytail bounced behind her as she held a plate full of food up her shoulder.

Link whistled lowly as she passed. "I think I saw you in my dream once."

The woman didn't look at him as she replied, "And I think I saw you in my nightmares."

Link chuckled and when he saw Silas's face he shrugged. "She's not too bad."

Silas eyed the establishment, watching augmented food keeping a steady flow. He frowned slightly. They weren't getting any word from the other villages, nor had their hunters returned, meaning that food will be hard to come by. He'll have to see about their storage and maybe even organize rations if push comes to shove.

Oh Din, please don't let it come to that.

Silas didn't realize he was still staring at the young woman until their eyes met. Blood rushed to his face. For a minute, he was sure she would grab the food on her platter and throw it at him for the offense. Viktor told him such reprimand happened to men if they were caught ogling.

Now Viktor went through a little explicit detail about the matter, despite Silas's exasperated embarrassment. He did try to convince the butler, to the best of his abilities, that he was entirely immune to ogling.

Well, so much for that.

Rather than slapping him with food, the girl smiled and winked at him. Silas's blush deepened and he turned away, dropping his gaze down. "I hate you so much," he said when Link exploded in laughter.

"Should I call her back for you?" Link asked.

Silas covered his face as if to hide his shame. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm just messing with you. Can't you just let your hair down a little?"

Silas looked at him, bewildered. "How could I when all this—"

"Oh, and before I forget, you better not pass out on me. I'm not carrying your ass."

"I haven't taken my medication," Silas said, not that he minded since he wouldn't take them either way. "Viktor and the others will be worried. They'll call the guards."

"We won't be gone for long."

"Just—" Silas sighed exaggeratedly when he realized Link wasn't leaving until he got what he wanted. Best to compromise. "Fine, only for a quarter of an hour then that's it. I'll be lucky if they hadn't noticed I left."

Left. Kidnapped was what this was. He just couldn't believe the insanity of this. They jumped out the window and got away with nothing. Silas had seen Link use a strange instrument that a metal grip but in that moment where his heart felt like it was ready to burst out his chest he didn't pay too much attention to it.

Large plate of food was brought to them by the same lovely young woman. Link had ordered himself large sized meal fit for five people while Silas's cake came in a small dish. The cake made the whole experience somewhat tolerable with an inviting white cream and strawberry syrup.

"Anything else?" the waitress asked.

Link paused. "Actually, I want a small cup of whiskey."

"Sure." She turned to Silas. "Anything for you, sweetie?"

Silas shook his head timidly, keeping his eyes casted down as if to tame them, keep them out from off limit areas. Even thinking about it brought heat to his face.

"Aw, aren't you just adorable!" another girl exclaimed, moving a chair over to their table and sat next to him. She was so close that he could smell her rosy perfume, feel her hair brushing on his shoulder. He tensed, determined to stay true to his moral compass.

But the needle was swirling around out of control, the glass started to crack when the girl snaked her arm around his. "Never seen you before," she purred, her breath hot against his ear.

"I always love the shy ones," the first blond girl said, leaning over to him, her pink lips pulled into a pretty smile. "Where are you from?"

Suddenly, his tongue felt very heavy and dry. The words seemed a splutter of nonsense to him as he tried to find something to say. "I um—well, umm…"

"He's not a lady's man," Link told them. "You won't get anywhere with him." He smiled charmingly. "But you can with me."

The women gave him a flat stare.

The blond-haired one rolled her eyes. "Oh please, I've seen your type so much, I might as well die from boredom." Silas stiffened when playful fingers crawled to his other arm. "What's your name, darling?"

He tried to bring up saliva to swallow properly but it felt as if he had just eaten sand. His mind was a network of people running around aimlessly in panic. It was especially harder to think to what to say when she was holding his arm, squeezing it between her…Din save him.

"Simon," he blurted out, surprised with himself. Of all the names he had to pick, it had to be the name of that thing.

He thought she might see through him since he was known to be a bad liar but he was getting better at it. "Well, Simon," she said, tapping her finger on his nose, their faces inches away. His breath stilled. "Enjoy the food, sweetie. If you need anything at all, you go out and holler Wensie, okay? That's me."

Silas nodded numbly. The two servers got up, giggling among each other. Link muttered something under his breath, spilling gravy over smashed potatoes before roughly shoving them into his mouth. Once Silas's blood returned to its proper temperature, he tried the cake, finding it both dry and delicious.

In a matter of minutes, Link wolfed down most of his food. He then proffered Silas with a long piece of a turkey leg. "Try it. I know you're hungry."

Silas blinked as he held the leg. "I need a plate and knife—"

"Just eat it off the bone."

Viktor will kill me, Silas thought as he chewed the dry meat off. The food was nothing new to him. He had a similar experience when he stayed at Mrs Laylon's house during his program. He tried hard not to think about her; thinking about her depressed him deeply.

"See? It's not so bad," Link told him.

Now that Silas was a little calmer, he saw the bar again for the first time. There was laughter in the men who shouted, there was joy in those arm wrestles. Rupees spilled onto tables, cards were being served, a steady endless stream of beverages flowed into the table, consuming their users, loosening their tongues and raising their spirits.

For a long time, Silas had been so buried deep into a dark hole and he was now brought before a sudden, blinding light. How long had it been since he heard laughter? How long had it been since he saw genuine happiness, friends reuniting, cheering for the fortunate and the fallen?

A sudden lump came in his throat but he dared not to show it. "What are they doing?" he asked, watching two clearly inebriated men hook arms and going around in circles at the corner of the bar where tables have been pushed to give them space. There were rounds of thunderous claps from those nearby, all were singing a song with a fast and catchy pace.

Link glanced over his shoulder, holding his tankard of sake. "That? Just a game to show off how they could handle their cup."

"But they're drunk."

"That's the point of it." Link pushed the other, smaller mug towards Silas. "Drink up! I'll look like an idiot if I do it myself."

Silas tried to push it back. "Link, I can't—"

"People will start to look at you funny if you don't. You want to blend in."

Silas looked down at his amber-colored reflection. He had only been allowed wine, in small amounts, in special occasion. What would his father say, what would his servants say, if they saw him in some lowly bar surrounded by his oblivious subjects with a recalcitrant jerk who had no consideration for anyone other than himself?

Link laughed mirthfully when Silas spat it out the moment it touched his tongue. "Never a drinker, are you?"

Silas knew those same girls were giggling behind him. He reached out for the mash potato, his face twisted distastefully.

Link continued to drink with ease, enjoying every sip.

"How can you drink that stuff?" Silas asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Takes practice." He took Silas's mug for himself, adding a touch of whiskey the server girl got for him. She looked over at Silas, smiling sweetly and it earned her another flustered reaction out of him.

When Link sipped his new concoction, his eyes widened. "Damn, he wasn't wrong. This shit's delicious!"

Watching Link enjoy his drink made Silas wish for his own, darker colored, bitter cup. He hadn't taken it since afternoon and could feel himself sweating for it.

The cheers grew louder as the duel between the men prolonged. Finally, one of them passed out and the other swayed on his feet but still stood, triumph. Silas watched as two others heaved the fallen off the ground, and set him aside in a chair where his sodden face hung down.

"Have you ever done that?" Silas asked.

Link shrugged. "Once or twice. Not a big deal really."

Silas winced as he saw two boys around their age drink a hefty amount of alcohol from large tankards before entering the small space. Viktor had always told him that those who bark the loudest were deemed the weakest. It never made sense for Silas when he saw young men determined to show off their muscularity. But then again, he wouldn't know about any of that.

Weak body of mine…

He tore his eyes away from the hoopla. "Viktor will have our heads if he ever finds out about this. Are you finished?"

"Who's the Lord? Him or you?" Link reclined back with his drink. "Seriously, you need to grow up."

Silas stared at him. "Why did you bring me here?"

Link snorted, gesturing over to the many plates he devoured. "I'm sure as hell not paying for this. Katie will pound my ass into the ground."

"So I'm just your wallet?" Silas asked sharply.

"Pretty much." Link saw the look and sighed. "Look, we both could use a time to wind down a little. I have a fairy who doesn't let me do anything—"

"For a good reason," Silas added.

"And you have a butler who might as well be your mom." He raised his mug. "Let's just enjoy this."

Silas only looked at him. Link said it so easily as if there wouldn't be any ramification in this little scheme of his. He didn't think about the guards that Silas would have sent after him, the nights he would spend in a cell, or anything like that. It was as if the world was his playground, and the rules are the ones he made for himself.

Silas knew that such an obdurate lifestyle like that should be outrageous but he had to admit that it was a lifestyle to envy. How did it feel like to be Link? To not ever have to worry about monsters, or anyone crossing him, to do as he pleased when he wanted to, if he wanted to? This was the true definition of freedom.

He glanced about himself, at the other patrons who cared less for how they looked, or how loud they were. While his life was orchestrated from the start, every action lectured, every word script, he saw other people living their lives with more ease.

Nearby, someone went on complaining about the weather, claiming it kept being hot and then cold enough that he couldn't feel his toes. Another complained about sleeping issues and strange dreams. Other than that no one spoke of Silas's proclamation about the closed gates and the refused search parties.

Or maybe that's what this place was about. Sure, you bring your troubles in here but you wash them down. When you're surrounded by friends and lovely waitresses, you bought yourself a distraction, a way to get out of it.

How many people here worried sick for their loved ones? How many of them were just trying to forget, just trying to relax?

"Why do you always look like that?" Link asked, tapping his finger on the cup and a woman took it at once.

Silas looked up. "Huh? No, I'm just…thinking."

Link sighed. "You really just can't relax, can you?"

Silas said nothing. He watched Link take a large mug from the woman, saying something salacious and then was rejected by her sharp repartee. Link shrugged it off, enjoying what was his third drink.

"Link, can I ask you something?" Silas asked.

"What do you want?"

"Why do you want the red tunic?"

Link stopped the mug from his lips. Silas had always been itching to ask the question. Everyone knew that the Haidrund's heirloom was kept for the hero. That was until it was stolen before either of them were born.

Link drank up more of sake-whisky mix. His expression was unreadable. "I need it to save my dog."

"Your…dog?"

Link took the confusion the wrong way. "Yeah, I get it," he said, his mug placed down roughly. "Whatever you have to say shove it up your ass."

Silas shook his head quickly. "No, no. I think that's incredible." He smiled almost wistfully. "I wish I could be strong enough but in my condition…"

What would he do if he had Link's strength? Well, it was simple. He'd protect his town with his own hands. That duty had once been a certain someone in his family, until that someone killed someone else and abandoned him.

Silas hadn't thought of being physically capable, not in years. Not until he met Link who might as well have come out from an adventure book.

This weak body of mine, Silas thought bitterly, hands clenching below him. The Gerudos called it a curse. In his mind, he imagined it as this creature that kept sucking the life out of him. It kept taking more of him day by day. There was no hope for a cure as the disease was as genetic as his facial features.

He would stay like this forever, and his children had a fifty percent change of getting it as well. As one could imagine, getting a marriage proposal wasn't exactly easy. That was, until he met Irela.

Until Sophia killed her.

Link cut his thoughts short by asking a question of his own, "Do you actually like being a Lord?" Link had the decency to keep his voice down.

Silas's fingers wrung with each other. In another life, the idea of being a Lord had been a little terrifying but also thrilling. He had badly wanted to do businesses with others, but kept needed approval and signature from his father. He was excited to do change things in his town, to make life better for his people, to make a difference.

"It's…stressful," Silas said quietly in the overwhelming sounds of a hundred conversations. Even if he couldn't hear, Link would know enough from his expression. Silas spoke a little loudly, "It's not a perfect life…though it could be a little better."

The emotions came to him inevitably like the waves on the beach. He thought of the days when he burst into his father's study, nearly dancing with excitement when he thought of a new idea for the town. Or of the days when he finally managed to convince a renown merchant to sign a contract with them. He thought of the long nights him and his father spent overlooking the contracts, seeing to the repairs of the crypts.

And he thought of his sister, his strange, quiet, often absent-minded sister. He thought of the days when he finally managed to get her to talk more than a few words, when he got her to laugh and to smile. Her presence could easily be forgotten, and his heart would almost leap out of his chest when she came up from behind him. She could walk into a room and no one would notice her, not unless she wanted them to.

Silas felt a soft tap on his hand. A single bead of liquid trickled down from the hand, followed by another one and then another. He took in a sharp breath, reaching a finger to find moisture on his cheek. Link was pretending not to notice.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Silas said quickly, rubbing his cheek with a forced chuckle. "It must be the alcohol."

It could be of course, why else would he want to break down now? He swallowed down hard, and without even thinking he reached across the table and grabbed one of Link's drink. Link didn't stop him.

The taste was just as vile as the first time he tasted it. It was like fire at the back of his throat, a deepening bitter taste that could wilt his tongue. He could only manage a small mouthful before spluttering it, coughing.

"Take it easy," Link hissed, and did the best thing and took the drink back. "You'll want to taste something a little lighter. Maybe wine?"

"No, no, I'm fine." Silas coughed, rubbing his neck. He couldn't bring himself to look at Link. Of all the people Silas had to be vulnerable to…

But Link did well to pretend none of it happened as he finished up his drink. "Alright, let's get out of here."

Silas thought of his dark manor, with its long halls and wondering ghosts. "I want to stay for a while."

Link didn't look surprised. "Come on."

"I want to stay."

Link gave him a sharp look. "Listen—"

"Please don't make me go back there."

Link paused, then with a sigh he sat back. "Five more minutes and we're going, understand?"

Silas looked to his side where the laughter rang out the most. A group of friends laughing at the young server's raillery. None of them seem to take it to heart that the waitresses just flatly rebuffed them. They clicked drinks, the alcohol swaying in the cups, spilling out, but they didn't seem to care. This night was theirs, a night with no worry, an escape from the grief that seem to hold Silas in a crushing embrace.

This didn't remind Silas of any of the gatherings he had ever had, not of the balls or the council meetings his father took him to one time. But Silas had seen something like this, something united, and warm with love and acceptation: his father and his sister.

This particular establishment had been berated by his butler who had even suggested that Silas should remove such an establishment from their society. But how could he? How could he take something away like this?

Hyrule was taking the worst turn. The trading system was in a complete mess. It had once been a well, thought-out network with merchants pumping into villages and towns and cities at a steady rate. Now they couldn't rely on famous companies and must settle for passing merchants and little farmlands. If a lowly bar had managed to keep its perpetual air, then maybe there was hope for his people yet.

Hope…

Silas's eyes trailed up to the mantic blade which Link had propped to his side. It was close enough that Link could take it out if things decided to go south. Katie had promised Silas and Viktor that Link was the hero, and Viktor degraded that in private. Perhaps the sword was fake. It wasn't the first time someone came to them bearing the hero's tunic and demanding for the red tunic. As much as Silas would like to believe it was fake, he had seen the blade himself.

Don't think about it, Silas thought. Don't think about the town, don't think about the deed, don't think about Hyrule, just don't think about it. Just relax for one moment. Just one moment before you go back there.

Being out here with this sudden rebellious air buzzed him with exuberance. He had done nothing but copy his name on every damn paper, and write out ingratiating contracts for merchants.

Was this how Link felt all the time? He glanced up to see the swordsman taking down another drink effortlessly. It was still a bit too early, but no doubt Viktor would check up on him. Silas would make a story up, say that he wanted to go outside. A poor excuse but it'll have to do.

It might be the alcohol, but Silas felt light headed, his emotions muffled under the loud cacophony of the bar. "Did you ever win in that?"

There were two men in the middle of an arm wrestle. A tempestuous cheer shook their plates when the man in the brown beard overwhelmed his opponent, almost flipping him to the side entirely. He was offered more of the beverage and took it down, foam trickling down his beard.

Unlike Silas, who's eyes brightened up, Link was just blasé towards it. "Eh. Been there, done that. Not a big deal."

Silas was smiling, feeling foolish and excited. "Did you ever win?"

"Never lost except the first try." Link's eyes narrowed when Silas found himself unable to sit still. He was nearly bouncing in his seat, giggling. "Okay, I think we should go now."

"Why should we? We can't leave!" He can't bear the idea of returning to his desk, sitting there and forcing himself to concentrate on his papers while the silence slowly drowned him. Silas stood up but found his head pleasantly woozy. The floor seems to sway under his feet. He giggled.

Link caught him. "Shit, okay we're getting you home before your butler posts wanted signs of me."

"Can you beat that guy?" Silas asked.

"Who? Him?"

The adulation of the crowd intensified when the man won another round, fifth time in a row. He shouted out, muscular arms went up in a loud challenge. The idea of Link fighting the man who was about three times his size should be out of the question. But Silas had seen him fight. He saw Link beat the odds.

And, well, sake might have blurred his judgment.

Link looked like he wanted to snap at him, but he somehow faltered when Silas smiled at him brightly. Link sighed exasperated, dragging a hand over his face. "One round and we're going, okay?" he said slowly. Silas nodded eagerly, then prodded him to where the large man was.

Link casually strolled up at the man and tapped him on the shoulder. "I'm up for it."

The man looked at him for a long moment as if deciding if this was a joke or not. He glared. "You? It's past your bedtime, son. Anyone else?"

"You'll be having me." Link sat down without an invite, placing his elbow down. The tips of his fingers flexed. "Unless you're scared that is."

There were some whispers around the crowd. A few pointed at Link, recognizing him as the one who had defended their town against the prowling monsters. The man must've recognized it too since his eyes narrowed slightly.

He scoffed. "Someone bury a hole. This one's not coming back home."

"Yeah, and make that hole a little bigger," Link said with a smirk. "That is, unless you could beat me?"

Silas came to regret his decision. He stood shoulder to shoulder in the crowd, no longer concerned that people might recognize him with his hood up. He saw Link and the man and finally noticed the disparities between them. What was he thinking? How could Link beat this guy? He'll have his arm ripped off!

The contest started before Silas could put a stop to it. The arms of the contestants tensed, the knot of their hands swayed back and forth. Some cheered for the man who's name was Gonver, others cried for Link. Silas wasn't cheering. He was worried. Sweat beaded down their faces. Much to Silas's dismay, he saw struggle in Link as his arm was turning to the wrong side. Link muttered a curse, his teeth gritted when the side of his arm was inches from the table.

The man sneered into his face. "Not so tough, are we you little shit?"

Link's cringing face then turned into glee with a wicked smile. Without even a warning, Link flipped the man's arm in a blink of an eye. The man cried out. The crowd gasped. He had done it so easily as if playing with a stick. He had been toying with the man all along.

People were agog; those that had been booing him were now crying out his name through the roof. Silas was shaking his arm. "That was amazing! You're the best, Link!" He then went on incoherently, saying too many things that his words were just as messy as his desk.

"Whoa, one word at a time, shorty." Link did look pleased, easing Silas by the shoulder. "Okay, now we go. That's the deal, remember?"

Silas nodded, but then he felt his stomach twisting. "Oh…I don't feel so good."

Link sighed. "Party's over. Come on." When Link turned around though, he found the man's puffed chest in front of him.

"I bet you drank some elixirs to pull that stunt," the man snarled. The delectation in the air slowly petered. "Where do you think you're going, huh, cheater?"

Link's face darkened. "Call me that again. I dare you." He shoved the man back. It must've been one push since the large man bumped into another who had his drink smashed to the ground. In mere moments, a bar fight was ignited.

While Link dragged him out, Silas watched with horrified interest that random people seem to get involved into fights they had no business in. He watched a man with fading hair and bulgy eyes clock on in the teeth before someone at his back bashed him over with a chair. The server girls fled from the scene but Silas saw that they were much more irritated, as if they had dealt with this too many times that it was getting old now.

Link took the back door which was the escape for others who were less truculent than others in the fight were. The cold night frosted their breaths as they stumbled out into the cobblestones. Silas would've fallen on his face if Link hadn't caught him.

The noise was fading behind them as they went further away from it but he could still hear it in his head.

"That was awesome," Silas uttered, hiccupping. "You saw all that, right Link?"

"I lived in it." Link scratched his head when he looked at the fervent and giggly Silas. "I'm in real deep shit for this."

"This was the best kidnap ever!" Silas said exuberantly as Link took one of his arm and hooked it around his neck, hefting Silas off from the wall. "You're awesome, Link!"

"Yes, I know."

"So cool!"

"I get it. Let's get you home now."

Silas felt emotional. "I wish I—" A sudden rush throbbed his stomach. Link blenched back with a yelp. Silas was on his knees, now staring down at his vomit. Link cursed again, went over to help him up but froze.

"What's wrong?" Link asked when Silas's eyes welled up with tears.

The stars were out, a dazzling constellation over their heads. They twinkled, a thousand balls hanging in the sky.

"The stars," Silas whispered. "The stars…"

Link's eyes flickered up at them before on Silas. "Okay?"

"I miss…" Silas trembled uncontrollably. "The stars though…" He thought of Link's question, the one about accusation. Of course he had snuck out before. Just to see the stars. She loved the stars…

"What about the damn stars? Wait, why am I talking to you? You're drunk."

Silas shook his head. "N-no, that's not right. A-a Lord cannot be drunk."

Link got him to his feet and dragged him along. "Sure. Whatever you say."

Silas muttered several things under his breath as Link helped him walk. He did well not to look at the sky again for he could feel that sob thickening his throat. He wasn't that drunk that he'd let his emotions lapse. "Link, can we do this again?"

"If Katie doesn't put me in a coma first," Link grunted. "And if you're the one paying then sure. Why not?"

"I think you're so cool," Silas said with a silly smile.

Link sighed. "I am aware of that."

"Really. I hope we can be good friends. We can, right?"

Link looked at him for a moment, his expression inscrutable. He said nothing and Silas couldn't remember anything past this point.


The sun had long woken them up. Misko rubbed his eyes tiredly as he kept the fire alive with a stick. The girl sat on the log, eyes far away from the world. Her hand often rubbed at the blue ribbon absent-mindedly.

Misko had tried to get something out of her, an answer for his simmering questions. What was a lone woman doing all the way out here? She fought like a Sheikah, even behaved like one. Sometimes he even forgot that she was here. That cat of hers, Simon, lounged around. Rather than bathing in the sun like most cats do, he sat on the log next to her, green eyes looking up at his subdued owner.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

She jolted slightly, turned to look at him. Once again, there was that line between her eyebrows as she looked at him closely. "You…you are…"

"Misko," he reminded for the third time today. "I know I don't make a striking impression but I didn't know I could be that nonexistence." He yelped a little when the cat suddenly hissed at him.

"I apologize," Sara said. "Did you—what was your question?"

He frowned. "I was just asking how you were, Sara," he said.

The flummoxing line returned. "My name isn't Sara." She paused. "No, it is. For the meantime. I can't tell you my real name."

And that's something else that boggled him. The girl even forgot her fake name, not to mention she didn't even look like she knew what was happening around her. There was this switch in her mind that seemed to be off most of the time, and everything around her was nonsensical, meaningless. It was only when you flip on the switch does she wind up to life but the gears in her head were dilatory, rusted even.

He tolerated it. After saving him from those wolves? He'll gladly tolerate it if it meant she'd do it again. Facing against those ravenous things last night would have scared him back to the town, even if that meant spending a night in a cell or facing Link's wrath.

The morning brought a wave of heat but now in the noon the morning drew turned to frost. Grass remained frozen upward. He wished he had brought something warm with him. He didn't even sleep very well. That nightmare shook him to the core. On the other hand, Sara was fine, as right as rain. Her jet-black hair was on her shoulders, her eyes calm and thoughtful and contrive.

Even with her intimidating demeanor and the strange way her mind works, Misko knew he had to come up with an excuse to stay by her side. It was madness if he thought he could survive out here on his own. He had the map of his tunic and guessed it was somewhere out of town. It was further from here. He didn't want t think of the monsters that would be waiting for him, or other, lesser but stronger bandits.

Misko's stomach started to turn; the rabbit that Sara had caught and he had skinned wasn't sitting very well. It didn't help how he was the one who had to gut it but he needed to find a way to make himself useful.

They were cozied near a streambed, water trickling down in splashing jumps. The ground was spotted with soft mosses which worked as a substitute for sleeping cots. He picked his way at the foliage to make some space for their fire. While he did most of the work, the girl just sat there, quiet.

"Where did you learn how to fight?" Misko asked when he couldn't bear the silence any longer. "I'm guessing a Sheikah taught you but I've heard that they aren't open to teach outsiders their tricks."

She didn't seem to be paying attention.

"Sara."

She blinked then frowned. "Sara? Who—oh you mean me?"

He carefully masked his impatience. "I asked on your mentor. Someone taught you how to fight like a Shieka."

She fingered one of the ribbons, a red one, on her other arm but stopped when she saw what she was doing. "A teacher taught me," she said softly. No matter how odd she was, she really was beautiful. The button nose, those mysterious grey eyes, that black hair framing her face. "A long time ago…I can't remember his face." Her voice was bitter.

"Well, I learned a few tricks myself but I can't say I'm the best at it." His smile melted when the cat seem to be glaring at him. What is with this fur ball?

He cleared his throat. "Anyways, I haven't got the chance to thank you for yesterday. Those things would have ripped me into two." He smiled, hoping it was as charming as he felt.

The cat growled. Misko snapped it a look before returning his smile at her. "You're very strong. It's been a while since I've seen a fighter like you."

Not true at all. Link might be a maniac but even Misko had to admit that the bastard knew his way around with a sword. But unlike him, Sara had some flourish in her fight. She didn't go blunt and rough, but smooth and delicate like a painter.

Sara thought for a moment, a long moment until Misko repeated everything he just said. She didn't even blink when he did. "Oh, you don't need to thank me," she said. "But it would be best if you take someone with you. It's not safe to go alone."

He smiled knowingly. "You're right about that. You're quite lucky with your skills. I bet monsters wouldn't think twice before approaching you."

Sara nodded, but he doubted she was listening to him. Simon however kept his gaze, this time it wasn't so sharp. He meowed and immediately Sara's attention was brought back. "Monsters? What do you mean?"

"What?" Misko asked.

"Simon says we haven't seen a speck of monsters in a while." Sara waited for Simon to finish. "For about a week."

Misko's eyes widened. "No monsters? There's been monsters raiding the town for weeks!"

Sara stood up. "Wait, the town? You mean Desmera?"

"Well, yes—"

"What's happening to my town?"

For a moment, Misko couldn't say anything. It wasn't just that she admitted that her cat could 'talk', or that she just said where she was from. But it was on that expression. That face had been the smooth surface of water broken by an enormous boulder.

"These woods should be teeming with monsters," Misko said, his voice steady. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen any monsters at all, not since he met her. Even in the cold night, there should have been some skeletal monsters parading around. "That…makes no sense."

She grabbed his arm, her grip detrimental. "What is happening to my town?"

He winced. "Easy, girl. It's just a bunch of monsters plundering here and there."

Now she was looking angry, and Misko could feel his legs turning to water. But there was some fear too underlying behind that fire. "What about my—what about the people, the Lord as well? Are they fine?"

"They hired someone to take care of the monsters and he's doing a fantastic job," Misko said quickly, if only to have her get off him.

Sara let him go and turned.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"I-I have to go. I have to see—"

Simon lashed out an unruly sound, teeth baring at her as he stood in her way. He didn't shy away when she sent him a look that could very well bury him. "Are you saying I should just—"

The cat hissed at her, really hissed at her, spittle flying everywhere, fur standing on his back. Misko tensed at this.

Slowly, the fire in Sara died out. "I—yeah, it has nothing to do with me." She sat on the log, expression laced with worry.

"What was that about?" Misko asked but was told nothing. He tried to do his best but he was fidgeting slightly, unable to take that fierce look of hers from his mind. If she had killed off those wolves without breaking a sweat, then what about him? She could break him like a twig while Link could make a fire out of him. These two were perfect for each other.

"Where are you headed?" Sara asked, much calmer after a few moments of silence. The fire crackled weakly, licking at the wood.

"I'm just a traveler, that's all," he said.

"Just a traveler?"

"I'm…" Misko paused, unnerved by the cat's glare. "I'm in search of something but I don't know where to look."

The cat hissed.

Sara frowned. "Will you stop that?"

"He doesn't like me very much," Misko observed.

"Just ignore him. What were you saying?"

Misko repeated what he just said, wondering that if this was how their conversations were going to be then Goddesses give him patience.

"I could take you further from the woods if you'd like." She pointedly ignored the outrageous cat. "It'll take up about a day at most. You shouldn't be wandering out on your own, Misko."

Misko was shocked. Not just by her strange kindness, but this was the first time she used his name. He chuckled in disbelief. "Well, I don't want to be a bother—"

She shook her head, and there was a faint sign of amicable. "It's fine. I won't feel very good if I send you out to die. So—OW! Simon!" A black cloud smoldered whatever light was on her face and she tried to grab the cat with the bleeding hand. Simon moved away from her. "Get back here, you little shit!"

Simon climbed up a tree, hissing.

"What is the matter with you?"

Misko scratched his head. "What's this about now?" This can't be real. She was really talking to a cat.

Sara didn't wince at the long, thin line of blood than ran from elbow halfway to her wrist. Somehow the cat didn't hurt her on the arm that had the ribbons. "He says I'm a fucking idiot for trusting you. Something about you being a bandit and taking advantage over me."

Misko opened his mouth once, closed it, then opened it again and closed it once more. He stared up at the cat who was looking directly at him now, a teeming green fire in those small eyes, a sharp color that broke out from the black fur.

Misko felt a cold finger run up his back but then he chuckled a little. It must be her subconscious speaking to her, speaking through the cat. He had heard it happen before with a farmer and his horse. It made sense. She didn't think like a normal person. The logical gear seemed to be missing. Maybe to her, the cat was speaking and it was saying what the deeper part of her head was thinking.

Still, that uneasy feeling was sinking down to his stomach. He had never seen a cat so irregular before. "I'm no bandit. I can tell you that," he said to Sara.

"If you say so. You don't look like a bad person anyways."

It was a good thing she didn't look at him when she said that. He was dumbfounded, gaping. For someone of incredible skill and with skin of thick sets of ice, she was shockingly gullible. She turned to him, and for the first time since he met her, she gave him a faint smile, crackling her knuckles. "It's not you would want to try anything, right?"

Misko's mouth was dry. He knew well of the consequences that came from underestimating a stranger. "I wouldn't dream of it." He smiled but it was forced. He could just see the flash of her dagger buried into his flesh or, no, that would be too messy. Better to twist his neck the other way and leave him to rot.

A voice, the voice that had saved his skin many times, was practically screaming in his head: this is a trap! She'll kill you, idiot! She's insane! She's talking to her cat! How much more proof do you need?

But Misko knew that by having her around, he wouldn't have to worry about anything that would harm him. He wondered what she meant by seeing no monsters. It was said that the woods were flourishing with them. The hunters, locals who know the area by heart, have gone missing for weeks.

Who was this girl? Obviously, her name wasn't Sara, and she was from the town itself. She was even ready to run there but something held her back. Trouble at home? Was this all an escape from something? What is with her talking to cats?

He swore he heard something in town, something about a girl who spoke to animals. Could she really be it? Was it a terrible mistake to trust this girl?


I remember struggling so much while writing this arc. You have no idea of the deep satisfaction I feel when I look at how it all fits! Of course it's not perfect but it turned out way better than I thought first thought it would.

Please know that I love to hear your opinion. This chapter was especially fun to write.