PART SIX - THE SHADOW OF MY KIN
His dream ended by a shout that tore through the air like a hot knife through butter. It took him out from the dream and into his room where the sun beamed through his window. A terrible headache thundered afterwards.
Slowly, he got up, cringing at every movement. The headache was dull, throbbing. As he sat on the edge of his bed, dressed in his sleeping robe—when did he get change?—memories came to him gradually, turning into his head like a gear. There was this party—a bar. Oh it was insane. He remembered that rebellious feeling which washed away all voice of duty and reason. He remembered that jocose atmosphere, the place where one came to inebriate oneself and enjoy other companies.
"And one other thing," that same voice carried on, startling him, "how dare you speak to me in that tone! Were it up to me I'd have you in a dank cell!"
Silas groaned at the constant pounding of his head that seemed to be only getting worse. He managed to get on his feet, and painfully galumphed his way out the door. The voices were from the drawing room and since his thoughts moved like going through a curdled soup he couldn't make sense of the words or the reason behind them. The door to the room was left ajar and through it Silas could see Link with crossed arms, glaring at Viktor who—Din saved them all—was downright furious.
"I could have the guards escort you out," the butler said vehemently. "I could have you in a cell before you even have a chance to defend yourself, do you realize that?"
Link scoffed. Unlike Silas, Link didn't appear to suffer with a hangover.
At Viktor's side was Katie who looked like a ball of fire. "What were you thinking on taking him out there? His condition, Link—what if he had another spill?"
Link just groaned. "I just wanted to take a breather!"
"Why did you take Lord Silas then?" Viktor demanded.
"Well, my wallet was in trouble," Link admitted and raised a finger before Viktor could explode. "And he needed a breather as well, not like you would know."
If looks could kill, Link would be burned to a crisp. It would've been enough for Silas to go back to his room and pretend that he was asleep. He could take the time to come up with an explanation and practice his lying.
Silas gritted his teeth against that. He hated how tempting it was to sneak away from here, and let Link take all the heat.
I'm a Lord, Silas thought firmly. It's time I acted as one.
Viktor was shocked, and for a moment, forgot all about his anger when Silas walked in. "Lord Silas? How are you out of bed?"
His voice, though it wasn't loud, was enough to strike a blow to the head. "Can you please not talk to loud?" Silas held a hand to his temple. He was sure he didn't drink too much, but apparently a sip of sake could do wonders.
Katie fluttered to his side and beamed a gentle color which hurt his eyes. "You should be resting," she said softly. "I can't tell you how sorry I am about Link. Viktor and I were discussing that it would be better if he stayed in the barracks in the town."
Link was fuming. "I didn't agree to this!"
"It doesn't matter what you think," Viktor hissed. "You shouldn't be here. You have been nothing more but an insolent disgrace to this manor!"
"Oh, and what about you?" Link shot back. "Acting as if you're higher than me, huh, butler? If someone came here and burned this shithole to the ground, what would you be? Nothing."
Viktor's eyes narrowed. "Watch what you say to me."
Link didn't seem to care. He wasn't fazed by the threats or by the burning eyes of butler. He gestured sharply to Silas. "Last time I checked, he was the Lord. Not some old geezer."
Viktor stiffened. Silas was speechless. He didn't think anyone would have the galls to speak to Viktor that way. He would have found it amusing if Viktor's blackened expression wasn't so terrifying. The door behind them swung open abruptly, stopping the dissension for only a moment.
"Where's Silas? He wasn't in his—"
Sally gasped and at once her motherly instincts came over her. Silas must've looked awful since she looked pained. "Oh my poor Lord. Look at you." Her eyes snapped to Link. "What have you done to him?"
"I didn't do anything!" Link snapped.
Sally did have a bit of a temper, Silas reflected, but he never thought she would be the violent sort. She looked ready to strangle Link. "You made him drink!" she shouted. "You took him to-to that place! What if people recognized him? What if they tried to kill him?"
"No one recognized me, Sally," Silas said quickly, if only to calm her down. Even Viktor jolted at the outburst.
"Do you have any shame in you?" she seethed at Link.
Link snorted. "You people make him out to be a saint. He's not that innocent, you know."
"Shut up!" Sally shouted. For a moment, Silas didn't know who she was. She looked much different from the motherly maid who helped raise him. "You don't know anything! You let him drink and flock around with those whores! Do you know what it does to him?"
"Sally, please—" Silas tried to say.
But the maid cut him off as she strolled up to Link, japing a finger at him. "You think I'm going to stand here and watch you ruin him? Forget the barracks. You should be in the gallows!"
Link choked out a laugh. "In the gallows? Oh I should be hanged because oh the horrors his lordship went through! Oh the pain and agony." She raised her hand. "If you want to hit me, then please do it hard. I love a hard woman."
Her hand stilled. "You son of a bitch," she hissed, and the hand curled to a fist that Link didn't bother to stop. A smile drew on his lips and he grabbed her other hand.
"That's enough!" Silas shoved his way so that he was between them. "What is wrong with you people? Do I look like some damaged product to you? I'm well!"
"Lord Silas, Link shouldn't have dragged you along," Katie said. "I'll make sure he stays out of your way for good."
Link threw his hands up. "Hey, I didn't chug a bottle down his throat! Tell them, shorty!"
Silas gave him a flat look.
"What?"
"You did kidnap me," Silas pointed out. There was no need to mention how they got out though.
"I knew it," Viktor hissed.
Link tried to protest but Sally interjected, "You don't even speak. You're good with a sword and nothing else."
"And you're good with the dishes and nothing else," he said smartly.
There were more recrimination, more argument, more venomous words spat out. The noise didn't help with Silas's hangover. They were all arguing about him as if he wasn't even here. He understood the concern of his servants but it seemed to him that the only offense here was that he left his home. As if he wasn't allowed to do that. As if he should've just stayed in his manor like a good little boy and did as he was told.
There was no way he could shout with the pain pulsing through his skull so he waltzed over to the table, picked up the vase and shattered it, bringing the room to a startled silence.
He cleared his throat, stepping around the broken pieces carefully since he wore no shoes. "Now that I have your attention can you, for the love of Hylia, calm down? For Din's sake, what is the matter with you people? You're acting as if I'm dead!"
He glared at his servants. "Yes, fine, Link dragged me to the pub but nothing terrible happened." He then remembered the bar fight but did well to keep his expression hidden. "Yes, I had some drinks, yes, I had some desserts to go with it but we just ate our fill and left. Is that so hard to believe?"
"You came back unconscious," Viktor said. "And all he did—" He turned sharply to Link. "Rather than explain to himself, rather than assure us, he just went to bed. I swear I would have had him hauled out if I wasn't so sick with worry."
"I was ready to call Grey," Sally said. "We were ready to have the whole town panic and—"
"As you can see," Silas cut her off, "I'm fine!"
"You have a hangover," Sally pointed out. "And when was the last time you took your medicine?"
"It's fine if I just miss them one time," Silas said. Or several times if I'm being completely honest.
"But—" Katie tried to say.
"No, no more. Enough."
Viktor turned at Silas and his eyes were narrow. "Lord Silas," he started to say. "Link was the one who peered pressured you, right? You understand the crime he committed?"
Link gaped. "Crime?"
The butler turned to him, more amazed than angry. "You kidnapped him," he said. "You just admitted it. And you've done it for money too. That includes stealing as well. You honestly think you could do that with no ramifications?"
"Whoa, now hold on a minute here—"
"You'll be put to trial for this," Viktor said, and Silas caught a silver of a smile on his red, lined face.
Silas didn't like how this dispute was turning. He liked arguments but about politics among friends. He never liked it when it turned to yelling and screaming and threats. He could feel pain crawling to his stomach.
"I chose to stay," Silas confessed.
Viktor nodded, still glaring at Link. "You will pay for this. You'll—" He stopped suddenly as if realizing that Silas spoke. "What?"
Silas felt his face heat up. "I stayed, okay? Link wanted to leave. If we had left when he said so, you wouldn't have noticed I was gone to begin with."
"My Lord—"
"No, this isn't a time for you to start picking out my words. I know you want to see Link in a cell but that's not your call to make."
Viktor bristled. "My Lord—"
"What are you going to do? Tell everyone that I visited a bar?" Silas felt tension rising to his shoulders when the two servants, the two who had the most power over him, just stared at him, as if they didn't believe this was really him talking. Had he always been so obedient, so willing, that they wouldn't even think of him running off on his own?
"I drank," he said with finality. "There. That's my crime. Now hang me for it."
Viktor abandoned all formality. "Are you insane?"
"I think I am. I think anyone in my position would be."
"You are the Lord of this manor," Viktor said, and his voice was thunderous, silencing all Silas's loud confidence. "And you go about to a bar? A bar? Are you insane?"
Silas flinched. Viktor had been mad before but this was a first time he let that anger show in its fullest. Those beady eyes were wide, and those gloved hands were clenched to fists.
Sally only shook her head and took Silas's arm. "It's okay. You're saying this because you're afraid of Link, right? You don't need to be afraid. You could have him in trail for this, Silas—"
"Lord Silas," Silas corrected, taking back his arm. "And I can do what I please."
"You're uncle does what he please," Viktor said coldly. "Are you now trying to follow his example now?"
Silas wavered. "No—"
"Your father trusted you, my Lord. Your town is now in crisis and you chose to frolic in a disgusting establishment where you could have been exposed," Viktor said through his teeth.
Silas felt a painful lump in his throat. He felt his strength leaving him. "I…I just…"
"And in your condition no less. Have you even thought to stop for one second of one moment to think of what you were doing to your body? And then you want me to treat you like an adult?"
Silas couldn't look at him. His eyes were casted down. He didn't feel like a powerful Lord that he was, but a small child chastised by his servant. The long hours he had spent working and helping his people, it would have all been for nothing if people saw him in that bar.
Everything I do is never enough, he thought with a sink realization.
"What is your deal?" Link snapped, which brought Silas's eyes back.
"Link!" Katie shouted.
Viktor stiffened. "Don't you speak—"
"I am going to speak," Link said sharply. "You're acting as if he's worse than his uncle. Guess you need him to be a good boy so you boss him around, right?"
"You have no idea of the damage you would have done to this town!" Viktor bellowed.
"Lord Silas," Katie said close to his ear. "Are…are you okay?"
"Is it so much to ask?" Silas asked quietly, and both Link and Viktor stopped their dispute. "I just…I just wanted to moment to myself, is that so much to ask for?"
Viktor glared at Link then turned to his young Lord with a disapproval look. "You decide to go to a bar for a moment of respite?"
"I didn't decide. Link did."
"And he forced you against your will. If you don't punish him for it, then it will show that anyone would be free to disrespect you. Do you think you could afford that? Drinking and mingling with your subjects, is that what you want people to think of you?"
"Can you blame me?" Silas snapped, his emotions were bare just above his anger. "Can you really blame me? With the stress that I have, with everything that's happening, I can't just relax?"
"That is not—"
"No," Silas cut him off. "My father, Irela, Sophia, now my town and my subjects. Things always seem to be getting worse but I keep trying. I keep trying. And then you say I'm trying to be my uncle?" Silas didn't realize he was yelling. "I'm tired of this. I'm sick with exhaustion. You never seem to care about how I feel, not once. Not once have you tried to get me to wind down. It's always work and work and work!"
"Listen here—"
"No, you listen. I've had it. For once, just for once, I want to wake up without the entire town over my head. I can't take this anymore. I just want my—" His voice broke.
I just want my father back.
It was getting harder and harder to get out from the shadow of his father. It was only because his father was the greatest man in his life. He would know exactly what to do for this town. He would have figured out a way to protect both his people and to find those missing hunters.
Viktor did soften a little but through the tears Silas couldn't see it. He was sure that there was disappointment. Lawrence always spoke so highly of him, and now Silas was failing him. This place didn't even feel like home. It was a nightmare.
"Where are you going?" Viktor demanded.
"For a walk," Silas said coarsely. "Or do I need your permission for it? Just leave me alone!"
He was never a runner but today he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. At the bottom of the stairs, he put on his shoes and burst through the doors. A rush of cold wind cooled his sweaty face, making him shiver. He went straight into the weald so that the pine trees would shield him from the windows. Through the low shrubs, the dry ground and the low hanging branches, he ran.
It was good of him to run. When he ran, all thoughts vanished. The only thing he would let himself think was to go faster, to get away, far away.
He didn't know where he was going. Since those monsters had raided his home not too long ago, Viktor kept the manor on lock down. Silas couldn't even take a stroll around anymore. No, that wasn't allowed. Just like he couldn't go to his town to see how it was doing. Just like he wasn't allowed to have guests.
Now he was away, so far away and finally, he let go of the grip he had on his emotions. It went away with a fight.
Someone grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him. Out of breath, Silas fell down, wheezing through his exhaustion and tears. Running like that was a terrible thing for his condition. He could feel his body paying him for it. The stinging sensation in his legs was like hot water. His stomach gave out and he blenched away something like a soup. Sally must've fed it to him last night.
The person who had grabbed him yelped back. "Oh goddammit, you need to keep doing that?" Link frowned when he saw the tears streaking down Silas's face. "What's wrong now?"
"I-I don't know," Silas croaked, pulling at his hair. "I don't know anymore. I don't know."
"Calm down—"
"I don't know," Silas repeated, trying to draw breath through his stifled sobs. "Everyone is going to die for this. I don't know what to do." He covered his eyes, pressing his hands against them till the world went completely black. "I don't know. I'm scared."
"No one's dying. Calm the hell down."
The panic was there, tightening around his chest. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think. There was only panic. He hadn't cried in his father's funeral, nor his fiancé and not a drop for his traitorous sister. So why was he crying now? Why couldn't he keep it together?
He grew so tired of fighting against the grief, of being strong like everyone expected him to be. He couldn't help but think of his sister. She would never let him feel like this. She would have assured him that she would protect him, that he will never feel like this ever again as long as she was here.
And he had believed her. He believed her so badly. And now she was gone, lost in the woods. Even with her skill and strength, he knew she wouldn't be able to survive on her own. She forgets. She always forgets. No doubt she had forgotten about her crimes.
A powerful smack went across his cheek, forcing him to turn the other way. The blow knocked him flat on his back with air forced out from him. His headache, which had begun to heal over yesterday's drink, returned in a bigger wave. The only other person who had ever struck him was his father. Anyone else would have had their hand chopped off.
"Calm the hell down!" Link snapped. "What's the matter with you? You think losing your shit isn't going to make you feel better?"
Silas rubbed his cheek. A bruise would be there for a couple of days at least. His breathing returned into its steady flow. "I…I don't know," he said softly. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
"There's a lot that's wrong with you," Link said unkindly. "But running away and losing your mind is not going to do shit, now will it?"
"No. It won't."
"Good. At least he can think straight." Link placed his hands on his hips as Silas got up from the ground. "Now if you're done crying then how about we head back?"
"I don't want to," Silas said at once. "I'd rather go anywhere but there."
Link rubbed the back of his nape when they both glanced over the gloomy manor, the manor that was derogated from the town, recluse with a weald between it and its people. A manor filled with restless ghosts. "Guess I can't blame you."
Silas wiped his cheek and a thought struck him. "Shouldn't you be defending the town at this hour?"
Link cursed. "Dammit, I knew I was forgetting something." He was about to turn until Silas said his name. "What now?"
"Can…can I accompany you?" Silas asked timidly. He quickly added, "I won't get in the way and I won't slow you down either."
"You will slow me down," Link said irritably. "You can't even run right."
"Please, Link," Silas whispered. "I don't want to go back."
Silas must've looked that pitiful since Link groaned and ran a hand over his face. "The sprit is definitely going to kill me for this. If your hangover isn't too bad then you better hurry it up."
It was getting a bit better. Silas was then given the same cloak again since all he had on him was a sleeping robe. The cloak still had the scent of the outdoor and a hint of the sake that Silas had coughed up. Wearing it again, Silas felt a small little burst of excitement. It felt like he was going to an adventure.
By the time they arrived to the town that little excitement turned to ash. The monsters have gone through the first line of defense and were spilling out into the main street. They saw soldiers in their grey and blue armor like ants running around the buildings to try and meet the monsters. But the numbers were terrifying. One solider lost his shield from the blow of a Moblin's club. Link acted quick and fired an arrow before the man could be killed.
Link fired more arrows, each of them meeting their target. The attack gave people the time to run and it also gave him the monsters' attention.
Link grinned as he brought out his sword. The sword. "Stay here and don't do something stupid," he said before using that same strange instrument with the metal grip—hookshot. It's the hookshot! Silas thought—and brought himself to the center of the street intersection.
Silas, with his hood up, went by the fountain which was a little further away from the villagers who all watched Link. The monsters came in waves, so many of them. For a moment, Silas couldn't see Link and felt panic but then the bright glow of something blue burst out from the bodies of the monsters. Link didn't seem at all worried; he was excited in fact.
A man could only be brave when he's afraid, his father's voice told him.
How could Link be afraid and brave? Look at him! He looked like he was having the time of his life.
How does he do it? Silas marveled.
The battle, despite the distressing numbers, didn't last very long. Link let out a breath and returned his sword back to its scabbard. A cringe flickered over his expression when people began to cheer. To Silas, it was like music, a melody that he nearly forgot. There was a glow in people's face as they each wore smiles. Hope.
Silas decided to keep his praises this time when he saw Link's expression darkening. "We're leaving now," Link said curtly. "I'm going to get myself breakfast. Pretty sure your maid will try to really poison me when I'm not looking."
"She won't do such a thing," Silas chided but then remembered how Sally reacted and figured maybe Link should be a little bit worried. "Can I come with you?"
"Aren't you going to take your medicine?"
"I won't die if I miss them once," Silas assured. Or if I just don't take them at all.
Link didn't seem too convinced until Silas added in that he would cover the costs. There were still some rupees left over in the cloak from last night. The day had started out chilly but Silas felt he was melting in the cloak. Has the weather always been this way?
Silas didn't put too much effort to hide himself. People noticed him as he passed by with Link. No doubt Viktor would be appalled if he saw Silas walking around with bed rested hair and baggy cloak.
But Silas wanted to be here. He hadn't made a proper visit to his town, only when monsters were ransacking it. Viktor had thought it best that Silas stayed in his manor until things settle down a little.
Now that they were at a time of crisis, there weren't any public entertainment, no troupers around to gather a small crowd, no merchants. He was disheartened to see the playground he had worked so hard to establish empty. The children had loved it. There weren't any children now that he saw it.
It had been difficult work to getting Desmera recognized. Though the Haidrunds were a powerful family, their town was a quiet one, a secluded town somewhere in the mountain on the boarders of Eldin. Silas had done what his father and his father before him thought to be impossible: he brought Desmera out from its quiet, humble beginnings and made it into something extravagant.
Their total population had doubled in just over a year with famous merchant companies visiting their town and making their business. It was no easy task. Silas had to take certain measures, trying to persuade them to come to Desmera even though it was mocked for being so sequestered.
Before, the town was only attractive in lapidary from the minerals and the gemstones that the Gorons deliver. But he had changed that, made it to something more. Or at least he tried to. It looked as if all his hard work these past few years just went down the drain. While it looked like it went back to the way it was, it certainly didn't feel the same.
In many ways, it reminded him of his manor but these people were real and they were much like ghosts. The streets were cold, mostly bereft with only a few merchants lurking about, yelling out such exorbitant prices that made Silas gape.
Was this what became of his precious town? Was this why Viktor didn't want him to visit?
He saw papers pinned up on the walls, some flapping loosely in the wind. The papers were of his legislative proclamation that had the message clear: no one was allowed to leave town. He was even considering of adding a curfew should the monsters decide to attack at late hours. Staring at the paper reminded him of that choice. The dilemma between the people's safety over looking for their lost ones still gutted him.
People were glaring at him. He could feel it. He could feel their anger, their blame, their pain. But no one approached him. Link had to give them one look of his own to encourage them to keep walking. "Let's go."
The bakery Link chose looked familiar and it took Silas a moment to realize that this was the bakery from his childhood, a lifetime ago. It looked much different now with the fresh rosy wallpaper. The rusty green iron table and chairs were replaced with furnished wood and woolen cloths. But the air was still the same. The hot, delicious scent of pastry and cake baking, that warm air that was welcoming, inviting.
They found a table on the far side of the bakery and waited for someone to take their order. Link reclined back in his seat, resting up his boots. Silas had now grown used to his imprudence though he did feel a twig of annoyance.
It wasn't as lively as the bar but it wasn't as empty as the streets. There were people here trying to forget about what was happening. There were children here as well being treated by tired but smiling parents. A couple sat not too far from them, sharing a large glass of lemonade. Maybe not all was lost.
But he did hear something concerning when a couple of women passed by them, each carrying a box of sweets. "Goodness, that dream gave me the creeps. I don't even want to sleep anymore."
Her other friend assured her that she was probably just tired. "It's those monsters I'm telling you. I had a bad dream too."
It reminded Silas of his own dream as well. Of the shadows, of the tall black man—"
"Good morning," a brunette chirped. When she saw Link, her mood soured. "You?"
"Me," Link said with a smirk. "Now that's not a way to treat your costumers."
Her eyes narrowed. "I would've liked it if your fairy friend was here. Are you here for food this time or just to bother me?"
"Both," Link said, and gestured over to Silas. "It's on his tab by the way."
She finally noticed Silas and her eyes grew wide. "L-Lord Silas!"
Silas flushed when other costumers stopped their conversations. "If we could just order—"
"Of course!" the girl stammered. "Anything you like really. Oh this is so unexpected! If I knew you'd be coming I would have arranged a better table for you!"
"No, it's fine. Please don't worry yourself," he said gently. "If we could just order now…"
"Yes, of course! Go right ahead!"
Link snorted audibly, earing a withering look from the waitress. "Next she'll tell him it's on the house, and she'll even give him a shoulder massage but what about the poor bastard that was saving her town over and over again?"
She brought out her notepad. "Keep your tongue clean when you're around his lordship otherwise I'll cut it off."
"I'd rather you take my heart," Link said smoothly.
"If you have one you mean."
Silas could only wonder how Link could be this shameless. They told the waitress of their order with Silas wanting something sweet on the side. He had been craving for nightshade but will substitute it for something coated in sugar. The girl, a poor nervous wreck, scurried off with Link watching her in amusement.
Link had also managed to scare off costumers who only wanted to speak to their Lord. Some glared at Link for his sharp tongue but they didn't go further than that. Silas chided at him but inside he was relieved. He didn't know if he could handle their questions.
"Is that Frank over there?" Silas asked when he saw a lone man shuffling over garbage. The black-bearded man hunched down over the garbage. People on the streets avoided him. Silas felt a pang of pity for the man.
"Who is he anyways?" Link asked.
Silas sighed. "He was one of the men who worked under my father some time ago. I've only had the chance to see him once or twice."
"So what happened to him? Why are people calling him crazy?"
"He's not crazy," Silas said sharply. But then he wondered if he had the right to say that. After all, he didn't really know Frank personally. "He's just…hurt. He lost his wife and child from the Sunflower Flu. My mother also died from the same illness when my sister and I were born."
Silas had to pester at his father for the truth behind Frank's resign. Lawrence had often commended Frank as the man was a dedicated worker. Throughout the days that Silas worked under his father, he often spotted Frank nearly everyday, so it was easy to notice his absence.
Link's eyebrows rose slightly and he snuck a glance at Frank. "So what did he used to do before?"
"He was a construction worker," Silas explained. "You see, for four generations my family had been working on expanding and renovating a crypt that is beneath this town. It is a resting place meant for the most influential people, those who have made the most impact in our town."
Even though the crypts were finished, there was still so much to do. Moving the bodies there and arranging ceremonies was one thing. And then they have to build Hylia's statue and hire a priest to bless the land. Naturally, all of that was put on hold with the current circumstances.
Link made a look. "So you just waste money to make a fancy grave for people?"
"It's not a waste of money," Silas chided, indignant. "It's a way of showing our appreciation to those who have helped us. Besides, we didn't make it from scratch. That crypt was here for thousands of years. All my family did was to try and expand it."
Silas hated to say but the days where he helped his father on those crypts weren't his best experience. There was this smell that clung to you as soon as you stepped into the dark and narrow, maze-like chambers. Summer wasn't the best time to spend in the damped and cold underground. The dust had been thick with the construction of breaking chunks of rocks and stones and moving them outside.
It hadn't been healthy for him to stay down there, so his father just walked him through it, eager to get his opinion as he mentioned Silas had a 'perspicuous eye for design and sense.'
"And where was your uncle in all that?"
Silas gave him a look. "Really?"
Link shrugged. "I'm guessing he didn't bother to help."
"My uncle…" Silas rubbed his face. It was always difficult to describe his uncle. On one hand, he was the family's disgrace, a man who had disavowed his duty of nobility. "He wasn't always like this. His addiction for gambling started when I was very young."
"How did he manage to hire a silver sword?"
Silas felt uneasy. "He must be winning a lot."
"Wonder what would happen if he stops winning," Link mused. "The Silver Company have a reputation for getting their money back."
And that was what Silas feared. Fine, his uncle could be a jerk sometimes but he was still family. Family needed to look out for each other. Of course, Tristan will use that as an excuse for when he asks for a loan, a loan he wouldn't plan on paying back.
Silas glanced up and saw a group of girls sitting at their own table near the entrance. One of them saw him and gave him an eager wave. He returned the gesture with a little flush since he was caught staring. Again. He ignored Link's chortle as he went ahead and laid a cloth over his laps.
"You should enjoy the attention while you can," Link said. "If you just have the right kind of confidence…"
"Can we please stop talking about women?" Silas said bitingly. He never saw the point of it. Most guys saw it as an accomplishment at how many women they've shagged up. You only marry one woman so why waste your time chasing after hundreds when you should look for that one person?
Oh Din, he thought in dismay. I really need to stop reading those novels.
He should throw them out before people find out. It wouldn't really help his reputation if people knew about his odd interest in romantic literature.
"You don't me to give you pointers?" Link leaned forward with a grin. "I could help you get real popular with girls, you know."
"I am a Lord," Silas reminded him stiffly. "I don't have time for that."
And I already have someone, he nearly said and then his heart sank.
Link either didn't notice or acted like he didn't. He only rolled his eyes. "Lord this and Lord that. It's like you have no personality."
Silas bristled. "I do, in fact, have a personality. Just because I don't fool around or any of that nonsense—"
Link hissed at him to be quiet. Silas, furious, was close to yelling at him until someone touched his shoulder. "Are my eyes deceiving me or is that Lord Silas?"
The hand was removed as he turned. The girl stood at his side, close enough that he could smell her rosy scent. She wore a faded pink apron over a white blouse and a short skirt. Her blondish hair was tied in a messy bun. She had this no nonsense impression, the sort that would do what needed to be done regardless of what others thought.
On her hand was a large tray balanced with plate. The plates were just as large with their shockingly inordinate food and it made him frown a little. It reminded him of the potential food crisis if nothing was done about it.
"I'm pleased that you chose to dine here," she said warmly. "Mind you, it's not your usual fancy dishes but it'll do the job just the same."
For a moment, Silas didn't know what he should say. He should be indignant, demanding that she respected him. No one outside his family should be able to speak to him so familiarly. But then again here's Link.
And something about this girl felt familiar. It had to do with her round face, her bright amber eyes and the way her hair at the back stuck out from the bun. It was until she set down his plate of sweet cake did it click. "Melissa?"
She scowled. "It's about time! Took you long enough."
Link waved a hand. "Whoa, hey, are you telling me that you could forget a beautiful creature like this one? How could you—OW!"
"Didn't I say no boots on my table," she hissed, tugging his ear even harder. "Costumer or no, I don't tolerate bad manners. And you're dining with a Lord here! Have some respect."
Link chuckled as he rubbed his ear. "How else was I going to get your attention?" He turned to Silas. "So, care to explain how you met such a lovely lady?"
Melissa had one fist on her hip and the tray was tucked under her other arm. "This lovely lady will rip your tongue out if you keep that up."
"Why's everyone after my tongue? Well...unless you want it that way then I'm—" He couldn't finish when he grunted at the sharp, painful smack that came from the back of his head. For a petite woman, Melissa's strength was frightening.
Silas cleared his throat. "My sis—I used to come to her parent's bakery before when I was a child," he explained. "So how are your parents?"
Melissa gave him a flat look. "They've been dead for three years, my Lord."
Silas froze. "Oh, I'm so—"
"I know. I know. All this Lordship tends to make you forget."
It wasn't that he forgot. Worse, he didn't even know. "I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine," she assured with an easy laugh. "Goodness, you've really tightened up over the years!"
"He's got a stick up his ass alright," Link added.
"I'm a little annoyed that you didn't recognize me but what could I expect when you're busy running the town?"
Silas gave a queasy smile, shrugging. "Well, I mean—you look different." He flushed. "You were just—no offense but you were a little bigger."
"She was a fatass?" Link laughed and then cringed when he was slapped again.
"I was a big girl. What do you expect from a kid who had bakers for parents?" she hissed at him.
"You changed a lot," Silas pointed out. "How could I recognize you?"
"And in what way did I change, my Lord?"
His face heat up when he caught that mirthful glint in her eye. It was then that he realized just how close she was standing. "You're um…"
"Yes?" she said keenly.
"Well you—I mean…you're pretty," he admitted, his face turning to the color of a beet.
"And what's so pretty about me?"
How was he supposed to answer that? He frantically searched for the right word, something his butler or his father had taught him. He couldn't even remember what his novels advised. He wasn't like Link, tall and handsome and strong, or like his father who could mince up words that could sway an entire room of courtiers.
Link was laughing. "Come on, you're torturing the poor boy!"
Melissa giggled and finally stepped back to give him space. "Alright. Just be sure to visit sometimes but don't expect a kiss like last time."
Link leaned forward at once. "This I need to know."
"You're the one who did that!" Silas complained, feeling as if he'd melt into his cloak. "Besides we were children!"
Melissa winked at him, getting a flustered reaction out of him. "Can you blame me? You were so cute back then."
"Dammit, Silas, you're killing my game here," Link said accusingly. "What's so special about you anyways?"
"He's modest, humble, and works hard for the sake of our town." Melissa curled a hair behind her ear. "Unlike someone who ogles at every woman in sight. If I was your girl I'd have you buried six feet under."
Link opened his mouth but Melissa stuck a piece of bread into his mouth. "No, I don't want to hear it." She walked away with a wave of her hand. "Just enjoy the food."
Silas felt as if someone had just strapped him on a wild, untamed horse and left him there all day. He decided that he will get ride of those novels after all since they have done nothing to prepare him for this. Why else would he bother with them?
Link kept his gaze on Melissa with his arm rested over the top of his chair. He sat back in his seat when she disappeared in the kitchen, and gave Silas a scowl. "Why are all the girls throwing at you, shorty?"
Silas narrowed his eyes. "Stop calling me that."
"What, shorty?"
"Yes, it's rude."
"It would be rude if it weren't true. You do know that she's taller than you, right?"
And younger than him by a year. His height was a bit of a sore spot for him.
"She is a friend, you dolt," Silas snapped. "I mean, we just met her once or twice for treats. Her parents used to give us this candy that colors your tongue blue."
Link rubbed his hands at the food steaming in front of them. "Damn, I'm starving."
Even with the food situation nagging in his head, it was easy to ignore once he ate his fill of cake and fresh bread with eggs. It was a good change air without his overbearing maid hoping to stuff him like a turkey. The noises in the back were comforting too.
Silas even asked for a second lemon cake. It was so sweet and spongy, coated with so much powdered sugar that Viktor would be aghast to see Silas eating it. Silas only wished he could ask for nightshade. He had been away from it for a whole day, and his hands started to tremble.
Link ordered a ridiculous amount of food and kept some leftovers for Frank. "Just something for the guy." Silas gave him a strange look. "What?"
"That's…uncharacteristically kind of you. Are you feeling alright, Link?"
"Don't make me ring your head." Link scoffed. "I know what's it like, okay?"
They left it at that. When it came to paying for the food, Melissa shook her head. "On the house."
"Same for a kiss?" Link asked shamelessly.
"I could give you a slap," she offered.
"Eh. Beggars can't be choosers."
"Link, behave," Silas said sternly and tried to offer Melissa a few red rupees. "Please, I must insist."
Melissa shook her head stubbornly. "Relax. After everything you've done for us, it's the least I could do."
"What about me?" Link complained.
She ignored him. "I know things aren't going well for you so just take care of yourself, okay?"
Silas didn't know what else to say other than thank her. Once they were out the door, the floor seem to move and tilt sideways and everything was blurry. Link grasped his shoulder to steady him. "Easy there."
"I'm fine." But the food wasn't sitting well in his stomach.
"It's your medicine, isn't it?"
"No."
"Bullshit. I'm taking you back."
"But—"
"I'll carry you if that's what it'll take," Link cut him off sharply. "So quit your noise. You going to have to face them either way."
Silas swallowed. "Yes, you're right." He was beginning to feel lightheaded. Maybe he should take his medicine, just a little bit. Neglecting them for too long was just begging a visit from the apothecary. "I don't know what to say to them."
He hadn't exploded like that since he was young which was years ago. He thought he was over that, being a ritzy and impetuous child. Everything came out all at once and thinking at what he had said made him cringe terribly.
Link scoffed. "You don't have to say anything. You're the damn Lord. Don't you keep telling me that? Now start acting like it. The guy is a butler for crying out loud!"
Silas told himself something similar but that confidence was quick to shrivel when he was up against Viktor's sharp eyes. Viktor may be a butler, but only a fool would think of him as only a man of subservience.
Silas remembered how Sophia and Viktor butted heads sometimes. Viktor was pretty much the only one unfazed by Sophia's volatile behavior. In retribution to Viktor's harsh rules, she often used the paintings for target practice. Whether she had done it on purpose or forgot that she shouldn't do that was still a mystery.
But oh how Viktor had yelled.
"Lord Silas!"
They stopped to see Grey running towards them. His copper skin was shiny with sweat. "What are you doing here?"
"Relax. He's with me."
Grey ignored Link, looking at Silas for an answer. There was hardness underlying behind those pale green eyes. Silas cleared his throat. "As Link said, he's just accompanying me."
"Does Viktor know you're out here?"
Link gave an exasperated look. "The man isn't his babysitter! What's with you people?"
"I'll call in a carriage for you," Grey said, and by his tone it was non negotiable. He finally turned to acknowledge Link. "Thank you for taking care of him but I'll take it from here."
Silas expected Link to protest but he seemed more than delighted, as if Silas was nothing more than a cargo that he didn't want to deliver. It did sting a little if he was being honest. "Be my guest. I'll be in the bar in the meantime."
With what money? Silas wanted to ask and remembered how he had given Link the change from yesterday for some reason.
Grey held his piercing gaze at Link before turning to Silas. "My Lord—"
"You should call in that carriage. I need to take my medicine for the morning," Silas said.
The officious captain set his jaw. "As you wish."
Grey didn't go too far, only at the end of the street. Even then, Silas felt uneasy with the glares darted his way. He didn't know what more people could want from him. He has Link defending the town, and he prepared all kinds of contracts to make with the nearby villages, including one where they will send out search parties for the missing hunters.
It might have something to do with the papers pinned up. His signature was clear, a seal on the fate of those who had lost their way in those woods. It was a constant tear on his consciousness.
No one approached him to take advantage of the great opportunity. It must be how quick Grey worked, his armor clanging and clinkering against his body, and it must be how he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. The sweat dropped in fat rolls on his face. He brought in a black and white carriage lead by three small horses.
The day began hot, but now, suddenly, it was so cold that Silas was grateful for the cloak that he had completely forgotten to return to Link. The captain gave out an order to one man before helping his Lord climb in. They sat down on opposite sides. Before he closed the door, they caught a glimpse of Link speaking to Frank as he handed him a bag of food.
Grey noticed him with distaste. He shut the door and pulled over the curtain, as if to hide the sight of him. "That boy is a bad influence."
Silas frowned. "Really now?"
"There's something not right with him."
"You and Viktor both. Honestly. I'm surprised to find something you two could agree on."
"For once in my life, I'll have to say he's right about this." Grey leaned back in his seat. He looked a little amused. "Knowing him, I can just imagine how he's handling your new friend."
Silas snorted. "Viktor doesn't like anyone."
It was nice to see Grey lightening a little. "He doesn't like anyone that isn't you or a noble for that matter." Then scoffing a little, he muttered, "That ass."
Silas pretended he didn't hear that last part. From the way the carriage started to shake, the walls thudding and the wheels going over bumps, he knew they were on the mountain of his manor.
"Now, see, he isn't that bad," Silas said. "Link, I mean."
Grey have him a deadpanned look.
"Oh come on! He could be…fine, he's annoying and impudent but he keeps the end of his bargain."
Grey's eyebrows furrowed. "What bargain?"
"I didn't tell you?" Silas rubbed the back of his nape. Come to think of it, he hadn't told Grey about a lot of things. Not about the trouble his uncle was costing him, or about how monsters invaded his home. He definitely didn't say anything about the disaster with the fake deed.
He explained to the captain about the deal he made with Link. As expected, Grey saw no sense in it. He was an expressive man, one of the reasons why the Haidrunds liked him. He wasn't as vulgar as Link but he wasn't as smart with his words that could have earned him Viktor's favor.
"So you're letting that boy stay here for a couple of weeks," Grey was saying, "just to give him a red outfit?"
"Not a red outfit," Silas chided. "The tunic. The tunic. Having him here would ensure that your men would be well safe. You should use this time to train new recruits as well and to build walls and trenches. And we'll also use this time to reach the other villages for resources. I've been meaning to talk to you about food stocks. I'm a little concerned and—"
Grey lifted a hand. "Slow down, son. I know things are messy but we need to do it in order. This deal you have with him—it's far fetched." He looked at him stern. "I know boys like Link. He isn't the patient kind; he won't want to stay around
"He's more than determine to get the tunic," Silas assured. "And I'm providing him with food and shelter."
Grey rubbed the bridge of his nose, a well sign to show how he felt about this.
"Grey, it'll work! Just trust me."
"I trust you," Grey said. "But I don't trust him. I don't want to start questioning your decisions but how long has the red tunic been gone for?"
"Before I was born." Silas lifted a finger. "But Father left us his notes. I'm sure we'll find something." At the mention of Lawrence, Silas felt his heart clenching. "You are looking for the murderer, right?"
It had been some time since they spoke about this. With Irela and Sophia gone and the monsters paying them a visit, they just haven't had the time. Nightshade. He needed nightshade. He should only take it three times a day but the idea that he would wait any longer than he had to was enough to make him scream. Hopefully, Sally didn't find his secret stash.
Grey nodded sympathetically. "I have my best men out looking but still no clue." There was silence now. They both jolted in their seat at the occasional bump. From the window, the fertility of the weald came to life with trees brushing past them. The sky was a blank, grey color.
Grey sighed. "Silas—Lord Silas, I need to know how sure you are about Link. You don't know him."
"I do know him." Silas paused when Grey gave him another look. "A little bit, fine, but—"
"Where is he from? Who did he used to work for? How did he get to fight like that? Where did he get a sword like that? I don't know that and every time I raise the question he rebuffs me. Now a man wouldn't tell his past unless that past is no good."
"Or if that past is something to be forgotten," Silas said stiffly. "Or when that past is nobody's business."
Grey looked incredulous. "It is our business. It's your business. You should know every man and every woman in this town. Not by name fine, but those that are working close to you. What are you thinking of keeping him in your manor?"
"That is my decision."
"I can guess that it was." Grey shook his head reprovingly. "You can't just trust someone like that."
"I don't remember giving you permission to interrogate him," Silas said irritably.
"I thought you wouldn't mind since I had to know if we could trust him." Grey thought for a moment and looked alarmed. "I haven't seny you any men over. By Din's grace, you don't even have any soldiers up there!"
"We've managed fine without them."
Grey looked at him as if he was crazy.
"What?" Silas said sharply. "Just because we don't have Sophia anymore, we can't defend ourselves?"
"If you want me to be straightforward with you then my answer is no," Grey said bluntly. He softened a little as if realizing how harsh that sounded. "Let me send you a small group at least. Fifteen men. That's all."
"We don't need any soldiers," Silas pressed. "Just keep your guards at the base of the mountain. That way no one could get to the manor without you knowing."
"There are other ways of getting to that weald."
"My answer is still the same."
"You mean Viktor's answer."
Silas paused for only a second. It was Viktor's answer. He was against having anyone that was sent by Grey but Silas wasn't speaking on his behalf. "I don't need that many people protecting me. That is final."
The captain stopped himself before he could press on. He knew Silas well enough to know that he wouldn't budge when he came to a hard decision. "I don't mean to make you feel that way," he said softly.
"I know what you mean." Silas crossed his arms and looked out the window. "Just because she isn't here, you're more worried about me now."
Grey said nothing and Silas felt guilty at once. Sophia may have never been comfortable with anyone outside the manor but Grey was a special case.
She loved him. She was always so happy to see him.
It was one of those times when they see her bright smile. Who knew how Grey was taking it, knowing that if the girl he considered his daughter returned he'd have to take her in chains.
"This town needs Link," Silas said, breaking the icy silence. "And I want you to treat him with respect. So long as he needs the tunic, he won't let anything happen to me. And if anything happens in the manor, then I'll agree to send your men over, okay?"
Grey didn't like the compromise. What if it was too late, he'd argue. What then? But he knew this was as good as he was going to get. "As you wish." He paused. "So who's looking for it—the tunic? Did you hire someone?"
"Viktor is managing that."
"Viktor?" Grey choked, laughing incredulously. "You have him looking for it?"
Silas's eyes hardened. "I never could understand this quarrel between you two but could you keep a professional front about it in front of me?"
Grey looked at him seriously. "You think Viktor would break his back for Link?"
"Viktor will find it. I trust him. He may not think highly of Link but he does his job."
The frown only deepened. Rather than degrade the butler or give his argument, the captain glanced over at the windows, at the trees and bushes that passed by in the bumpy roll of the wheels. "Seems like you don't know him as well as you think you do."
Silas didn't humor that with a response. Whatever qualms the captain had with the butler, it was something Silas didn't want to be a part of. At least they learned to tolerate one another. That much Silas was thankful for.
They rode the rest of the way in that silence that they both accustomed to. It was easy to get used to since they both dealt with Sophia who was well known for making you awkward without meaning to.
His nerves jittered uncontrollably, frightening him a little. He didn't know how bad things would be for him without his nightshade. Grey didn't notice it. He didn't notice Silas's breath hitching, or how his fingers were practically dancing on their own. Silas forgot all about his anxiety of facing down Viktor. He just needed that sweet lenitive taste of nightshade.
Link was glad to find the place quiet. While he did enjoy the insane hoopla that only a bar could host, this day he just wanted peace. Sally had dosed him with cold water, and everyone was on his head since then. He wasn't planning on coming back till the evening. The bar was mostly empty at this time of hour save for those who were really wrecked with stress.
As he passed by a table of old men, he heard them complain, "Those damn dreams. Hylia help me, I feel like I'm losing my mind with them."
That reminded Link of his conversation with Frank a moment ago. The old man had been chewing through his food as he spoke. "There's bad dreams and bad talk. An omen is in the air and no one's listening to it."
"No one's listening to what?" Link asked.
Frank looked at him hard. "The man in the dream. You've had them, haven't you?"
Link laughed at the absurdity. "We all have bad dreams, Frank." Besides, Link didn't see a man in his dream. There were only shadows and more shadows, so thick that you can't even see your hands.
"Fine, don't listen to me but what about the weather? Am I the only one who sees the mood swings of mother nature? She gets mad at one point and then cold."
"Maybe she just doesn't like you?"
Frank gave him a look. "But what about those monsters then? You can't tell me they're normal." There was a sprinkle of crumbs crusted over his beard as he ate up more of the bread.
"Okay, that's something I could agree on." Link hummed. "Something didn't feel right when I keep fighting them."
Frank agreed eagerly, as if he was relieved that someone finally took notice. "Now if they were bandits, trying to ransack the same place only to wind up dead, would they keep doing it?"
"The monsters aren't Hylians."
"Ah." Frank tapped his forehead. "But they think a little us, kid. They have one thing in their mind: survival. They hunt like we do, they arm themselves like our soldiers and mercenaries, they build their own hunts."
"And they attack anyone they want," Link added impatiently. "So what's your point?"
"My point is trying to understand their point. What's the point of them coming here? Sure, they take some livestock but that's it? No Hylian would be dumb enough to jump off a cliff if they aren't suicidal so why're monsters killing themselves by throwing themselves at you?"
The question lingered in Link's head. It was troubling and he didn't like how it was stuck in his head like glue. He sat on the stool, and couldn't help but think over his dream now that Frank brought it to his attention.
It was just a dream, just one that he woke up in cold sweat. He concentrated on the silhouette that he saw. It could've been anything in the darkness but he did have to admit that it did have the shape of a man, a very tall man, a towering man with a built like an ox.
And then there's the monsters throwing themselves at me, Link thought. And the dreams…and maybe even the weather.
Link shook his head, chuckling at his own foolishness. His head was even starting to hurt from all the thinking. This was why he left things like this over with Katie. If he started to fret over anything, he'd drown himself in sake.
From the end of the counter, he heard some men his age cursing. "That sick Haidrund. My father is out there and he doesn't even send anyone out there!" He gritted his teeth. "And we're not even allowed to go out! It's like he wants them to die! I say we take our spears and head out at night."
His friend gaped. "Are you nuts? We can't survive five minutes out there!"
"Your older brother is out there too."
"And he'll skin my back off if I did something stupid."
The other hot headed one pounded his hand to the counter. "Bar man, get me a refill!"
The bar itself recovered from last night's little dissension. There were a few tables missing, no doubt broken in half or the legs have been pulled out to use as a weapon. There were new marks on the wall right next to the old ones. Yup. No bar was safe from a bar fight.
Link waited his turn. When the bartender turned to him, he wasn't very pleased to see him. "If you cause me trouble again, I'll have you hauled off out of here."
Link was about to snap at him until he remembered last night. He could've mentioned that it wasn't his fault but he was dying for a drink. "No trouble here," he promised.
The man eyed him for a while and then brought out sake without Link having to tell him. A good bartender knew his regulars and prepared their orders ahead of time. "Add in a little whisky in it," Link told him. The blend was growing on him.
"Make that two," a raspy voice said.
Link's mood soured when a familiar swordsman gestured with his chin at the empty seat in question. "Taken," Link gritted.
Banard took it as an invitation. "It is now."
"What do you want?"
"Easy with the tone, son—"
"I'm not your damn son." Link clammed up when the bartender shot him a look.
Banard chuckled. "Someone's in a fit." The lean man with a well-trimmed beard grinned. "You won't let a man drink after a long day of work?"
The bartender settled two mugs in front of them. Banard held it up, tilted it towards Link's way. "Cheers."
Link didn't return it and swallowed the whole thing down. The liquid burned down his throat, filling him with a fuzziness that he would've found pleasant if he were alone. "Where's that ass Tristan? Didn't think his dog would run around without him."
The older man snorted. "Can you blame me for wanting some peace? I should get paid just for listening to him blabber." He set the mug down and tapped on it for a refill. "He has brains, sure, not as smart as his nephew, but if he kept his temper under control and stopped playing with money he could run the country."
"How's he paying you?" Link asked despite himself.
Banard swirled the liquid in his cup thoughtfully. "He did a lot of favors back in the years. You would've met some of his friends if you didn't pass out."
Link didn't know what he was on about until he caught a sly smile on Banard and remembered their fight—if they could call it that—that happened in the bakery. There were guards who took him to jail without even hearing Link's defense. The old anger rose but sake cooled it down like a bucket of ice water.
"So his nephew is the real one paying you in the end," Link said. "Because his uncle keeps borrowing from him. Why don't you work for him in that case?"
"I should," Banard admitted. "He's got a good brain on him. His uncle would've been dead without his help." Banard paused to drink down. "But Tristan's an interesting man and he makes my job a little exciting."
"Can't say the same with Silas."
Sure, shorty was okay. He was fun to tease but Link really couldn't stop thinking of Silas's illness as this ticking bomb. And then there's being bossed around by servants. Silas seriously needed to grow a spine.
Banard drank more of the concoction, which seemed to be temporarily truce between them. "He hates his nephew, Tristan I mean." He blew out air. "Ohh, he can't stand the kid. If you ask me, he's just jealous. But he does have a soft spot for the sister."
Link glanced up. "The sister killed the fiancé right?"
Katie had been horrified when she learned the truth, and Link wondered how he could let his guard down. It could've been Mathilda all over again. A pretty face one minute and then a crazy psycho bitch in the next. But Sophia did help him when he took that tumble and she take him to a shortcut that cut an eight hour trip into an hour.
Banard shrugged, looking at his half filled mug. "Who knows what's going on with her head? The only one who does know would be her brother since he made her like that."
Link gawked. "Wait, Silas?" Silas was a harmless bunny.
Banard gave him a strange look. "If you ever met a girl like her, you'd know that no one can be like that without a little accident. Long story and I don't really care to say it."
The girl was weird, talking to a cat and living out on her own after committing a murder. But now that he thought about it, something about her didn't seem very right. There was something in her head that didn't work the right way, a missing gear, a switch that was off.
Link decided that he should mind his own business, though his curiosity was driving him mad. How in the world did Silas made his sister like that?
Banard finished his third drink. "Damn, you know how to pick your cup."
"Just a tip I got from someone."
Maybe if they didn't meet on bad terms and maybe if Tristan wasn't a shit employer, Link would've liked Banard a little more.
The bartender tried to pour a fourth round but Banard wasn't done. In the end, the bartender ended up spilling sake on Banard's hand when the swordsman moved the cup up. The silver swordsman brushed the apology away as he took off his soaked glove.
Link snorted, about to take a sip of his cup when his breath stilled. The bartender wouldn't notice it, not when the light was dim, but something was carved on the bare back of Banard's hand. Banard didn't notice Link's stare. Slowly, Link had to put down his cup before he could drop it on accident.
That mark.
He felt like he was breathing through a pillow. Instant flashbacks ran through his head all at once. A cold chill crept up his spine. No wonder. No wonder why Banard felt so familiar. The way he talked, the way he fought, his attitude, his words, even the fighting technique. It was so familiar that Link was kicking himself for not realizing it sooner.
Banard finally noticed him. "What's wrong with you, kid? Getting a little pale there."
Link said nothing as he took in a deep breath. He gave the man a very sharp look.
"What? Are you still upset about last time?"
"You bet I am," Link said softly, knowing he should shut the hell up. That same childish fear crept through him like a snake but he forced it down. He was older. He was stronger. No one could hurt him. Not even Banard. "I get a little pissed when someone messes with me."
Banard set his cup aside, looking amused. "Oh?"
"Yeah, after all—" Link stared at the man straight in the eyes. "Tit for tat."
At once, the mirth died in Banard's eye and the color drained from his face. He finally noticed the mark on his hand as if seeing it for the first time and then quickly put the damped glove over it. His hand shaking slightly.
"Words and days," the older man uttered, then turned to Link, looking at him, really looking at him. "You—" He choked a laugh, shaking his head. "You're from there?"
"And so are you."
Banard slumped back into his seat. "I knew it. I knew you looked familiar."
"I can say the same about you."
"But you look so young though." His eyes trailed over to the hilt and he began to understand. "Now I know why you're so good with that."
They weren't just the average swordsmen. Link hadn't felt anyone could ever understand what it meant to be as strong as he was now, to push yourself to the limit knowing that your life depended on it. Now he had someone, someone from that hellhole, and at once that life from before didn't feel like some faded nightmare. It felt very real.
"You're really young though," Banard repeated, looking at him carefully. "And you don't look like you've got the mark on you. How the hell did you escape?"
Link said nothing. Banard took the hint. Everybody knew that if someone didn't talk about their story, it only meant that it was no good for the telling. Banard paid for the drink. Link was too stunned and too numb with his memories to even protest.
"We'll meet again," Banard said as he stood up.
"For blood rather than a drink," Link said lowly, as he took a big swing of his drink.
Banard chuckled deeply but there was something hollow about it, something dark. It came from a place where there were no colors, where the sky was this pitch charcoal, and where survival mattered more than anything.
Link could remember it vividly. The black hill with a small cottage on the top. He tried to stomp down the memories but they were flowing in too quickly, like water breaking out from a dam. He suddenly felt faint when he remembered the smell, the blood, the sweat and tears.
Link got more of his drink but wasn't tasting it. No, you don't drink for the taste. Memories become a blur. Emotions were easy to swallow. The day carries on like any other day.
Misko sat up straight, almost bumping his head on the low rocky ceiling. His heart pounded against his ribs. He panicked for a moment when he saw nothing, nothing but darkness. It was as if his world was smothered in shadows.
Then he saw the soft embers from the fire nearby. He saw that his hands were visible. His shirt and face was damped with sweat. With a sudden great relief, he let out a deep breath, chuckling a little.
Just a dream. Only a dream…
At his side was a dark figure lying down. Sara was passed out the moment they found a place to rest. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, drinking up the pleasant view of the curve from her hips. When she stirred, he looked away at once.
She hadn't said anything at all the last few hours before they made camp. Her feelings were carefully undercurrent by her usual dull stare. The silence between them had been terribly awkward. He didn't know if she was doing this to intimidate him or if she just didn't like talking. Since they were travelling together, he tried making a few notes about her and learned one important thing:
She was the strangest person he had ever met.
When they first started to converse, he quickly learned how exhausting it would be since he found that he actually needed to repeat himself on several occasion. One thing he had grown used to repeating was the purpose of their trip, his innocence that he was no dirty bandit, and even her fake name though he had worked hard to fish out her real one with no luck.
The ribbons on her arm made no sense to him but meant the world to her since she was very careful when they cut through thickets or bushes. There were so many colors, many of them were faded and worn down to a point where only strings were keeping them tied.
At first glance, Sara was calm, collected, sometimes confused but quiet and reticent. It was only until you see her angry. He had seen it once when Simon was acting recalcitrant and by the Goddesses her temper was a whole other story.
They have only been traveling for a couple of days and still he had no clear way of where they were headed. He knew he needed to figure out this blasted map without her finding out. The less people knew about it the better. If she really was from Desmera, then she knew that the red tunic did not belong to him.
But dammit, he didn't know anything about this area. Staying by her side was his safest bet, but now that he thought about it, they haven't spotted a lick of monsters. Could they be more focused on the town? No, that didn't sound like them at all. Monsters weren't organized. They just scatter around to ambush any poor soul.
It doesn't change the fact that they seemed nonexistent. If that was the case, Misko decided that he should split. He grabbed at whatever he could use, being as quiet as a mouse. Neither cat nor the young woman noticed him taking some of the food and bottles of water before he slid into the darkness.
It was better this way. He didn't know who she was or what was going on in her head but he knew that if he stayed a moment longer with her he'll lose his mind.
A chilling breeze made him shudder. Nothing could be creepier than the woods at night. Every noise keeps you on your toes. With his rusty sword, he brushed through thick leaves, hacking away the branches to make his way through thickets. He took one glance at the cave before trudging along.
When he was sure he was far away from the camp, he took out the map, staring at the illegible writing. One corner looked as if it had been chewed off. It was the piece that Link had torn off when he chased him, and it was the piece Misko had managed to snatch back. He found no use for it and just tossed it away.
The writing was in ancient language. He squinted at it with only the light of the moon to help it. He tried changing the angle, hoping it would spark an understanding. The map had none of the landmarks he knew.
He spent about an hour struggling to make some sense to it when he suddenly froze. Vibration thumbed through the ground, up to his feet, pebbles jittered from their place, the branches swayed. An enormous figure blocked out the moon. The creature looked down, its single eye locked onto the puny Hylian below.
Misko stumbled back, choking for air. In the moonlight, the bones gleaned and the eye itself seem to glow. For a moment, the two only looked at each other then the skeletal Hionx shrieked, crushing a pine tree out of the way. It landed in a splinting crash. Misko almost didn't move. He was frozen still. Somehow he got himself to move and just ran the other way.
Through the tangled mess of the woods, he ran blindly, tearing vines from his face, tumbling down an embankment. He ran and ran and ran as it was his only skill. How many people had he outran in his life? Too many. And he was almost never caught.
There was a log sticking out, wedged between a set of boulders. He hid under there, his breath heaving, his eyes bulging. For a moment he thought he was safe but he must've made a noise since the log was lifted, the moon beamed onto his face.
The large eye glanced down at him, grunting. The bones crackled in their sockets, somehow moving without any muscles to pull them, without any blood pumping through. The monster lifted up a hand that was clenched into a bony fist. Misko found that his leg was stuck, sandwiched between two of the boulders.
He choked, staring at the red eye. "No, no," he croaked.
The monster's hand reeled away as it growled in fury. The growl was low and deep, like a drum. Misko cried when someone pulled him out. A long red mark was left when his leg was pulled free from the boulder.
"Holy shit!"
He colored a little when he saw how close she was. Seeing her eyes soft and concern, he wondered how had he ever thought of leaving this girl. "S-Sara," he managed to say, paling further when he saw the Hionx over their heads, a silver shurkin stuck out from its wrist. "Th-the monster—"
She was already moving for it. The Hionx brought its fist down but she moved past it, climbing up its arm, traveling along the outer bone without tripping or stumbling. She moved like one would expect from a Sheikah, no falter, no hesitation.
The monster tried to swat her out like a bug but she leapt up, diving into its face with a dagger. Misko slammed his hands on his ears to block out the piercing cry as the dagger twisted into the slimy eye. He could see Simon next to him, reacting the same way.
In mere seconds, the battle was over just as it begun.
Sara landed on her feet gracefully, straightening as the monster crumbled behind her into black flakes. The dagger moved dexterously in her hands and it then disappeared into the many pockets in her belt.
Misko would've applauded if he weren't trembling from head to toe. The fight must have revitalized her since her face was colored, her eyes more alert. She looked more than just a statue, than a shadow on the wall.
She went to him, grasping his shoulder. "You okay?" Her tone was gentle.
"I'm fine, fine," he panted. He looked at her grey eyes, which he had found intimidating once but it was so considerate, so touching. "Thank you."
She didn't seem happy though, only contrive, saddened. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you on your own. Or did I? Wait, what happened?"
Simon meowed at her, and turned sharply at Misko.
Misko ignored him, swallowing hard as he went on unsteady feet. "You saved my life again," he said hollowly.
That line between her eyebrows returned. "I…I did? When? Wait, do I…?"
"Yes, you know me. We met." If he wasn't shaking out of his wits, he would have been impatient. She saved his life again. He will gladly repeat himself. "My name is Misko and no I'm not a bandit."
Sara blinked then frowned. "Yeah I know."
He looked at her closely. "Do you? What's my name?"
Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Simon hissed at him loudly but Sara waved at him to calm down. She thought for a long moment and then, as if Misko's question went through one ear and out the other, she said, "What were we doing?"
It must've been the fear of almost dying, or the terror of realizing of how helpless he had been that made him snap. "Alright, what is wrong with you? How could you keep forgetting things that just happened?"
She stiffened. "Were we—were you attacked?" He stared at her and she turned away, her face ashamed. Her hand went over the arm full of ribbons. For a long time she did not speak.
"Sara—"
"I have a memory problem," she said softly. "I don't…I didn't tell you that, did I?"
You didn't need to tell me, he thought dryly. Though it would have been nice to have a heads up.
Misko scratched his head. This could be great for him though. This meant that he didn't have to necessarily leave her.
Before he could say anything, Sara spotted something on the ground and frowned. "What is this?" His eyes widened when he saw her holding his map. It must've fallen off him when he was pulled out from the boulder. "Were you looking for something?"
It felt as if he had been caught in a mouse trap. "I um…"
Sara's eyes widened when the cat suddenly meowed as if it was in terrible pain. Its tail was upright and its eyes were wide, those green eyes looked so much alive. "You know about this?"
Oh not again. Every time she spoke to this cat, it gave Misko the strongest urge to leave her. It did make sense on why she was out here on her own. With her sorry excuse of a memory and talking to cats, people wouldn't be too excited to welcome her in. They weren't friendly with Mad Frank either in that matter.
"It's mine," Misko said steadily, putting out his slightly trembling hand. "If you could just give it…"
"Why are you looking for the red tunic?"
Misko froze. Slowly, he turned to the cat who stared at him obsequiously, green eyes, brighter than grass, seemed to be staring right through his soul.
"Simon says this isn't yours and it isn't." Sara looked at the map with disbelief. "This belongs to u—the Haidrunds. Are you looking for it? This map leads to it, doesn't it?"
Simon reacted violently, immediately shaking his head and croaking out noises.
"I'm trying to find it for them," Misko lied smoothly.
The cat spun at him, practically seething through its sharp teeth. Its reaction was unsettling.
"Simon says if you don't stop your bullshit, he'll gut right through your eyes."
"I'm not lying!" Msiko snapped, more out of fear than anything.
"Simon says that this isn't a goddamn joke. He's calling you a bandit."
"I'm not a bandit, Sara." Misko turned to her desperately. "Do I look like a bandit to you?"
Sara stared at him for a moment.
"Sara?"
She rubbed her head, cringing a little. "Wait…what were we talking about again?"
Simon tried to get her attention but Misko beat him to it. "I was telling you that I'm looking for the red tunic so I could give it to the Haidrunds."
"You…you were? Really?"
"Yes," he said, jumping away when Simon started to claw at him.
"Simon!" Sara snapped. "Stop that!" She ignored the cat and in the end the Simon sat down, glaring at Misko.
Quickly, Misko went on to say that they have been traveling together for a couple of days and that he was a little upset that she couldn't remember him.
"I do remember you," she insisted. "I know. My name is Sara and you're Misko."
"Yes."
"And…" She hesitated and for a moment he saw a hint of fear in her eyes. "And we were…"
"We were traveling together," he said gently. "And I'm looking for the red tunic but I need your help."
Like a wound up toy, Simon leapt up, going in front of Sara.
Sara staggered back from him. "How's that a terrible idea? It's not that far from here." She looked at the map with intense concentration. Twice did Misko have to remind her the purpose of it. She trailed her finger down the river that snaked through the mountains. "I know this. I swear I do. But we'll need to get through the main road."
Misko thought of the guards who almost abrogated him, and thought of Link with his sinister smile. "Yeah, isn't there any other way?"
"We could go around the mountain," she suggested, rubbing her head. "Yeah, we could but it might take a couple of weeks. The main road cuts through the mountain itself which would save us a lot of trouble."
"I prefer not going to the main road," he said quickly.
Simon growled more like a dog than a cat. The hair on him stood up straight with his tail, his lips curled back over small but sharp teeth.
"Oh what is it now?" Sara snapped. "So it's dangerous. Nothing I can't handle."
It meowed.
"Then help me understand!"
Simon turned to Misko with such rage that it turned the bandit's blood to ice.
"He is not a bandit," Sara snapped. "I've faced bandits before. Does he look like one to you? He's not going to hurt me so quit your brawling." She looked at the map with firm determination. "We need this red tunic. It belongs to the hero."
Misko snorted. "Good luck with that. I doubt Lord Silas would give it to Link."
The cat immediately tensed. Sara gasped. "The hero is here already?"
"Trust me, darling, that boy is no hero," he grumbled.
Sara rolled up the parchment. "Well, we'll find it one way or another. My father had spent so long looking over it." At the mention of her father, there was this deep sadness in her eyes. It didn't last for long as it was hardened, masked over like a visor. She gave Misko back the map and said that they will travel at first light.
Misko, with jumbled nerves, put back the map in his bag and noticed something that horrified him. Sara heard him cry out and asked him what was the matter. He held up the broken bits of his compass, which he must have been sitting on when he was hiding from the beast.
"We can't find anything now!" he cursed out, throwing the compass away. His fingers ran through his hair. This streak of bad luck never seemed to stop.
He paused when he heard a giggle. Unbelievably, he turned to see Sara with a faint smile on her face. Any frustration he had seemed to dissipate. For a moment, she didn't look like the daunting fighter but a normal girl.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
She smiled warmly. "We don't need a compass."
"No?" It was hard to breath. She looked so lovely when she smiled, like the beaming sun on a cold day.
She pointed up. "We have them."
He thought she spoke of the Goddesses until he saw it. Stars were laid out across the sky, twinkling in the night, glimmering like a shattered diamond. It was a sight that took his breath away. You spend so much time trying to survive that it was easy to ignore the beauty.
"You read them?" he asked amazed, looking at her.
Her eyes were thoughtful. She smiled a little. "I do. I can't forget them even if I tried," she said softly. "Come on."
It was settled. She was to be his protector and navigator while he found a way to pull his own weight and keep his sanity.
Simon kept on brawling and making noise and Sara told him to just shut up already. They were going to get the red tunic for Silas and that was final. No, Misko wasn't taking advantage over her. No, he was not a bandit. And no, they were not going to leave him alone to die in the woods. They were going to get the tunic for Silas so he doesn't have to ever worry over it.
Misko paused when he heard her addressing the Lord by his name but then decided it didn't mean anything. He'll gladly tolerate her craziness and her odd cat if it meant he won't ever have to worry about monsters ever again. When they do get to the tunic, he'll pull a fast one and she won't even know he was gone. Best part she won't even remember him!
And then he'll be one step closer to getting the legendary treasure that his predecessor left behind. The treasure in Death Mountain.
