(—that's giving me, giving me such a headache)
When Eijiro starfishes on the ground at the bottom of the tower, it's not long before Inko's leaning down over him, watching him with a fond expression. She's content to chat with him like that for a minute or so while he gets his bearings, and when he gives an abridged, glossed-over summary of how atrocious fast travel was, she insists that if he lost his lunch he'll just have to let her cook him a big dinner to make up for it.
"Well, if you're gonna twist my arm about it," he laughs gently, though he's getting a little worried about overexerting her hospitality.
They agree again that it's only fair he should help gather enough food for their dinner, and he figures it can't set him back too much to hunt and forage a bit before heading for the nearest shrine. That decided, he dusts himself off from where he'd been slumped on the ground, and makes for the Forest of Spirits.
That's where Eijiro meets his first Korok.
The little guy almost gives him a heart attack, too—Eijiro's climbed an odd stone formation in the middle of the forest, hoping for a vantage point to hunt from, and is slightly puzzled by a large rock just… sitting there. It's kind of huge, maybe bigger than his torso, but not quite big enough to make a good perch, so he doesn't want to stumble over it while he's focused on aiming his bow.
He heaves it over his head, just planning to heft it out of his way, when all of a sudden a triumphant little trumpet sounds and Eijiro drops the stone in alarm at an explosion of fairy lights in front of him. He barely hardens the dragonscales on his head fast enough to avoid concussing himself.
"Ya-ha-ha!" the forest spirit cheers, while Eijiro whines and rubs his head. "You found me!" The Korok bounces in absolute joy and utter delight for a moment, before suddenly tilting its head at him in apparent confusion. "Huh? You're not Hestu!"
"Um," Eijiro manages. The little spirit sounds so betrayed. "Sorry?"
"You can… see me?" the Korok asks next, apparently more concerned with this fact than with Eijiro's apology. "I didn't know your kind could see the children of the forest!"
"I… I guess I didn't either?" Eijiro answers. It's probably not strictly true—it's more like the case of him being dragonblooded. He knows what a Korok is, recognizes one on sight—he's probably seen them before? But he hasn't thought about it at all, hadn't even thought about their existence or the potentiality of meeting one, so he may as well have been blind to them before now.
"Wow!" the little plant cries, awed. Eijiro is glad to see that the betrayal has been left in the past. "You must be very special! Like the Deku Sprout!"
"Thanks?" Eijiro says, and it occurs to him that most of his contributions to this conversatiion have been in a confused and questioning tone. Might as well keep up the streak. "Um, and what is that exactly?" He feels like he should know. The term sounds familiar, like a mental sensation of a word being right on the tip of his tongue.
"Not what," the Korok gasps, scandalized. "Who! The Deku Sprout is a person! We Koroks love the Deku Sprout. He's the Great Deku Tree's successor, and he's wonderful!"
Oh. Of course—with that, the information does come flooding to mind. A long chain of heroes chosen by the Goddess Farore, with Her blessing passed down between them, tasked with protecting Her creations. Nature in particular, but She'd created all life in the land and this chosen hero was meant to look out for all of it, accordingly. Her magic would grow in them, keeping them strong and youthful until it would begin to overtake them, and they would have to settle in one place as Her magic transformed them into a giant tree—the Great Deku Tree.
And then they would pick another hero worthy of Farore's blessing—someone to receive a mere sprout of their power, to store and cultivate on their own as they protected the land. That was the origin of the name Deku Sprout, but that name for them was probably more popular among creatures of the forest than regular Hylians. That was why it hadn't been immediately familiar.
He was pretty sure Hylians had preferred other titles for the role, but the current Great Deku Tree, a legendary hero named All Might, had taken so long to choose a successor that most had forgotten the legends, and the titles with them. Eijiro could vaguely remember that there were tales of how All Might had prolonged his retirement and transformation for so long that he'd gone into his last few battles with bark already overtaking his skin.
"Oh—you're right, sorry, sorry." Eijiro nods his acknowledgement and understanding of the Korok's words. "But… you said I'm like him? I don't... think I'm the Deku Sprout."
"Of course not!" The Korok uses a tone that makes it sound like he's trying to explain a very simple concept to a very silly small child (and the irony is not lost on Eijiro), like Eijiro's not understanding him on purpose. "The Deku Sprout is in the castle!"
"In… there?" Eijiro asks somewhat dubiously, nodding his head in the direction of Hyrule Castle, though their view is blocked by all the trees in the way. The place doesn't exactly seem hospitable, clearly.
"Oh, yes!" the forest spirit chatters, clearly eager to gush about this topic. "He's a hero, Mister! He's protecting all of us! He's been fighting the Calamity for a long, long time, but he'll be back soon! All Might said it won't be long anymore, and then he'll come back to the forest."
In the castle? Holding the Calamity off? "Huh..." Eijiro manages, but it comes out weak and distant to his own ears, as his thoughts race. The voice, his voice, he knows it's coming from the castle—is that what the voice has been doing, too? It makes sense—he hadn't said as much, really, but he was asking for Eijiro's help, and he'd said he was waiting and that the monster was regaining strength. A long time… was he fighting All for One for all of those one hundred years?
"Um, I gotta... go..." he tells the Korok distractedly. He's got a lot to think about now. For a moment he almost wonders, are his voice and the Deku Sprout one and the same? But, Farore's associated with green, not golden light, and besides, nature powers wouldn't let someone talk to him in his head. Unless they would, but it wouldn't make any sense. So… are they in there together, then?
"Okay!" The Korok seems oblivious to how lost in thought Eijiro has become, dancing excitedly from foot to foot. "But wait! If you run into Hestu, please return this to him."
Eijiro's not sure where the seed that the Korok produces came from, since it's not like the little guy has pockets, but he takes it and stares at it blankly. It's… literally just a seed. There's probably a lot of others like it. He has no idea why he's being tasked with this. "Um… okay? But I don't know who Hestu is."
"Doesn't matter! You'll know him if you see him. You can't miss him!"
Eijiro figures he might as well just accept it.
He returns from hunting with three Korok seeds in his pockets, and two foxes that he'd managed to catch—which he skins and cuts up for Inko to begin cooking into stew before he finally steels himself for the next shrine. Inko thanks him warmly and sees him off, but there's something tense in her demeanor.
Her eyes seem tight with worry, but when Eijiro tries to ask what's wrong she just waves him off and makes him promise to be safe. He doesn't hesitate to give her his word—he couldn't bear to make her worry, but really, as uneasy as he is about the shrines, he knows he can handle them.
The ruins aren't far from Inko's home at all—honestly, he's had to pass them at a distance, a bunch. It doesn't take him long to make his way to them, and they're surrounded by… odd shapes of some sort, the kind he's seen dotted around the Great Plateau in several places, but this is the closest he's actually gotten to any of them. They're all tarnished and moss-covered, too much so to make out what they might have looked like once, and he can't figure out what they were for.
Not statues, surely, because their positioning is too random and too haphazard. The only thing he does know, is now that he's close enough to make out details, they fill him with the most visceral unease and dread he's ever felt in his life.
He spends a solid minute staring at one, throat dry and palms clammy, before he manages to convince himself to inch closer. There's no reason he should be so—so—so scared shitless by a hunk of lifeless material. They're stationary. What's his problem?
Man up, he chides himself, swallowing roughly as he pokes around one. It's… not so bad when he gets in close, because he can focus on just the area right in front of him, and ignore the whole shape. It's made of metal, he realizes, knocking on a scuffed and dulled part of the material and hearing a hollow and muted clang as he does so. Squatting down, he leans a hand against the moss-covered material and peers into one of several openings near the bottom of the shape.
As he runs his hand around the opening, brow furrowed in thought as he tries to piece together what these things are and why they agitate him so much, something comes loose in his hand. Pulling it out, he stares at—a screw?
Something similar had come out of the automatons he'd been forced to fight in the last shrine. Looking up at the shape again, Eijiro bites his lip, his unease building again. Was this another machine just like those? Near the top, he now realizes there's a circular indent that—that looks like the eyes of the automatons, where their lasers had fired from.
Eijiro blanches.
He can't imagine what machines of this size would do—what kind of damage that eyes of that size could cause. He grips the screw he'd pilfered tightly to keep his hand from shaking, and suddenly his fear doesn't seem as ridiculous or confusing to him now. He's just glad they're all clearly defunct. Taking in a shaky, steadying breath, Eijiro stands and backs away quickly, regardless.
He just… doesn't want to be around them. That's all.
He skirts around it as he moves further past the battered and half-collapsed walls of what the map tells him used to be the Eastern Abbey. Skirting through one opening, he makes his way into an area clearly far more open than it once was—there's half of an archway in the center of the space, the only testament to whatever walls once divided this particular area. There are two more of those intimidating defunct machines lodged in the rubble on either side of that arch. Beyond them stands a complete doorway in one of the few whole walls, though its opening is sealed over with debris.
Still, these walls are all cracked and littered with ivy and plantlife, so climbing them won't be any problem at all. Eijiro's not worried as he makes his way forward—at least, not about how to get to the shrine. He wishes he didn't have to walk so closely between the lifeless machines, though.
He's hardly more than a few steps into the clearing when it happens—the machine on the right, it moves. The top of it rattles and lifts, the whole creation suddenly glowing red as it spins to face him, and then—that fucking sound, like a gong or a hand slamming down on an out of tune piano, and Eijiro—
Eijiro can't fucking move as the eye lights up piercingly blue and stares him down. His blood turns to ice in his veins and his breath feels solid in his lungs as he tries to choke past it and every muscle in his body draws painfully tense and he can't—he can't—
He can't move and can't think and he can't afford to run he has to stay and fight, but there's no point it's over he can't do this they're going to kill him, they're going to kill them both, and then they're going to kill everyone and he can't stop it he just has to—
The eye shifts colors. The blue's suddenly deep and dark—a line of red light beams out of it, directly onto Eijiro. A strangled gasp gets caught in his throat, and he runs. Involuntarily he scrambles, nearly tripping over his own legs. He manages to slam himself behind a ruined wall, in the same instant a white-hot beam of light flares past where he'd just been. It blasts into a wall behind him, a sob escaping Eijiro as an explosion of flame and light bursts at the impact point. It sears his skin, even fifteen feet away.
Eijiro presses himself flat to the wall, legs curled close to his chest, face buried in his knees as he struggles for breath. His heart's pounding so painfully he thinks it'll break his rib cage and he grips tight around his legs with one arm, his other hand gripping at his own hair tight enough to hurt.
He needs—he needs to—fuck, he has to get away from here, he can't—he doesn't know what that thing is but some deeply ingrained part of him must, because he still can't control the trembling of his limbs or the stinging of his eyes. He can hear it, on the other side of the wall, a constant whirring and deep, menacing humming all paired with a mechanical grating as it turns its head back and forth, searching for him.
He has to go. He knows without trying that his sword would break on this thing before he could get any real damage done. It's armored, heavily, and even its insides are made of metal. His sword's fine, but he knows the difference between fine and good or even great. It could never survive an attack on that thing.
He could just… he could continue to use this wall for cover, and get as far as his legs will take him, keeping obstacles between them until he's gone and doesn't ever have to do this again. It would be easy. It would be easy, but…
He has to get to that shrine. He has to get off this plateau, and help the voice—fuck, the voice, he's in the castle, with something so much worse than this stupid, stuck robot that can't even move. Why the hell can't Eijiro get himself together? He knocks his forehead against his knees over and over, trying desperately to manage something other than the choked, hiccuping gasps that keep escaping him.
How can—how can he even think about running away from this? If he can't jump into action now, when it's his own life on the line and his enemy can't even move, how is he ever going to help anyone else? How is he ever going to face All for One? The voice… Eijiro's going to fail him. He can't give in here.
He still can't even draw a full breath properly, but he can't let it stop him. He moves to grab the hilt of his sword, starting to push himself up against the wall beside him before—before—he slumps, sliding back down the wall and onto his ass. His knees are still too weak to hold him, but even if they weren't, it's his resolve that failed.
Eijiro knows he can't fight this thing. He hasn't seen a weapon on this plateau that could even make a dent. He's being a coward, he knows, but… but he doesn't want to die fighting a battle he can't win. He'll never help the voice that way. So… so he has to figure out something else.
His mind scrambles through what he knows, trying to figure out something—any piece of information he can use. Think. He tries to comb through what just happened, to pinpoint anything…
It hadn't targeted him right away. That's what he realizes first. It had taken a moment, to find him, and only then did the red light flash towards him. And—and it hadn't fired right away either. The red light had lingered on him, a strange clicking sound emanating from the machine, until a final beep. It had fired a split-second after that. But—but it also hadn't moved. The line of red light had locked in place after the sound, while Eijiro kept moving, and then it had fired, at where Eijiro had been.
So—so if he moves fast enough…
He can get past this thing.
He doesn't want to risk getting close to the machine, and he doesn't want to bet his life on being fast enough to dodge only in that split-second where it can't track him, but… there are walls littered all around them. The shrine is surrounded on all four sides. If he can just keep to cover, moving faster than the beam can focus in on him, until he can scale that last wall—it won't be able to target him.
Eijiro has a plan. He can do this.
It goes off without a hitch, more or less, for the first sixty seconds or so. Yeah, he's scared out of his godsdamned mind the moment he sees the flash of red, every time he sees it—but he only has to sprint through the open twice, and both times are fleeting. He makes it around a corner, out of the thing's sight, but even as he sags with relief he refuses to believe he's out of the woods.
The place is littered with the remains of those machines, and now he knows he needs to be wary of all of them. He finds himself at a dead end, walls around him on most sides, so he tries to loosen his muscles and gets to climbing. Despite his protesting muscles, he heaves himself over quickly.
He finds himself a little too out in the open—the machine has a line of sight on him from here, if it thinks to turn around, so he sprints again for the wall to the side of the shrine. It won't see him from there, at least. But just as soon as he makes it, he sees—there's another one up ahead. And it gives a shudder.
The second one lights up, its eye turning to Eijiro, and his heart stops.
His heart stops and he runs—he doesn't freeze up this time, bolting for the wall, and he doesn't even waste time looking for handholds. He just feels claws overtaking his hands, and he jabs them into the stone with enough force to crack it himself, making his own handholds as he claws his way up. He's over just as the beam locks on, hurling himself past the wall heedlessly of the fall waiting.
He rolls to dispel as much of his momentum as he can, scales hardening across his skin to absorb what force he can't, and then—
And then it sinks in. He did it. Part of him wants to whoop for joy but the rest of him is still too breathless and shaky, and he lets himself flop flat on the long grass that's overtaken the ruins, right at the foot of the shrine. He doesn't remember if he was the praying type before he woke up in that shrine, but he lays a hand over his pounding heart and thanks each of the Goddesses and Bakusatsuo in turn, earnest and sincere.
Ja Baij Shrine does give him another rune. It won't get him off the plateau, but it is badass.
He can now summon bombs, two types of them, out of the slate at will. He doesn't know how often he'll need that, but just having the option makes him feel pretty damn powerful. Admittedly, the trial this shrine offers is just as easy—maybe easier—than the magnesis trial had been, but he keeps messing it up.
When he first comes in, the adrenaline is only just draining from his system, and all of his limbs feel heavy with exhaustion. The fear response from earlier hasn't fully left him, either, and it makes his hands just a little shaky—the result is he keeps fumbling his grip on the bombs, not quite judging his throws correctly. Several times he has to stop to take a few deep breaths, shake his hands out, and hope for the best as he attempts the same toss he's messed up two or three times already.
Still, he gets through it in about the same amount of time, and he endures Ja Baij's weird purple mist and spontaneous disintegration with only some contained distaste and not outright panic this time. Progress!
When he steps out of the shrine, the same odd energy that's been humming under his skin since the first one is there still, stronger now. He's still unsettled by it, but—but whatever it is, the 'strength of these monks' spirits', it's supposed to help, so he tries not to let it bother him. He steps out into the beginning of sunset, and he realizes—
He'd thought there could be nothing he'd ever hate more than fast travel, and he was so wrong. Standing on the surface of the shrine, realizing he'll have to get past those looming machines on the other side of the walls, Eijiro doesn't have to debate long. He pulls out the slate, braces himself, and taps Oman Au Shrine on the map—it's farther, but like hell is he going to climb down the tower a third time, in this state.
He's in hell for all of the five seconds it takes him to be ripped across the plateau, but, hey, he doesn't throw up this time!
Sure, he stumbles to his hands and knees as soon as he arrives, and he has to close his eyes to ride out the waves of nausea that hit him, but he doesn't even dry heave so he'll take the win. He takes as many deep breaths as he needs to to calm his stomach, and then he pulls himself to his feet, heading back towards Inko's home once more.
It's really nice, to have somewhere that cozy and safe to recoup, after all the worst of today.
Inko looks about ready to cry when he arrives back at her tiny house, two more Korok seeds in his possession. Actually, he can't be sure she doesn't actually start crying—he has to look away fast, just in case, before he's in danger of his own waterworks possibly starting in response to hers.
"Oh, you're safe, thank goodness," she breathes, waving him in almost frantically. He can't even get a word out before she's ushering him into a seat at her table, and she keeps him there with a hand firmly on his shoulder, not even letting him move to dish his own meal up. She ladles the stew she's had simmering for the past two hours or so into a bowl herself, and puts it in front of him.
He's not sure where all the nervous energy comes from, but it doesn't fully fade through most of the meal, even as they talk over their dinner. Every time she stands—to dish up seconds for either of them, or to grab something across the room—she finds an excuse to touch Eijiro, laying a hand on his back or shoulder. One time, she even strokes his hair, the gesture motherly and caring. It's like she has to keep reminding herself he's there and not hurt. Eijiro doesn't know what to make of it.
It's well and truly dark out by the time Eijiro finishes eating, and that's when it finally hits him—
"Oh… I should probably figure out somewhere to camp out for the night." He hadn't even thought about it before, and he wishes he'd thought to get set up someplace before it was dark out. Still, he doesn't think it'll be too hard. It feels like something he'll know how to do.
Inko raises her eyebrows at him. "What are you talking about? You're staying here, of course."
"Really?" he blurts, surprised and hesitant. "Are… are you sure? You've already fed me twice, and given me hair ties, and helped me out so much today, you don't have to—"
"But I want to, and I will," she says, firm. It's hard to argue with her, especially with gratitude swelling in his chest, but…
"I—I really don't want to be a burden—"
"You could never," she insists gently, but she leaves little room for argument. "I would never forgive myself if I made you fend for yourself in your situation. You'll stay here tonight. And tomorrow, if we haven't figured out how to get you down from the plateau, either. I want to do this for you, and you're going to let me, young man."
"Okay..." He swallows, and his voice is not just a little wobbly, thank you very much. "Um… where..."
"You'll take the bed," she says without looking at him as she begins to gather their dishes, and Eijiro shakes his head.
"I can't! I couldn't make you sleep on the floor, and it's your house!"
Inko just shakes her head, glancing his way with a warm smile. "You can. I wouldn't be using it much, anyways. It would be a waste. Trust me, dear, getting old ruins your sleep. You can't sleep through the night anymore, and you'll be napping throughout the day no matter what you do. You'll take the bed."
"But that's not fair," Eijiro protests. "You keep doing so much for me, at least let me repay you by letting you keep your bed."
Setting their stacked bowls down, Inko reaches across the table to lay a hand over his, regarding him with a fond, no-nonsense look. "Eijiro, honey, you do not have to repay me for a single thing. You deserve a good night's sleep after the day you've had, and I won't accept no for an answer. Besides, I have some things I want to work on tonight. I think I have an idea how to help you get down safely, so I won't be sleeping much tonight anyways. I insist, and it will make me happier than any other sort of repayment you could give me."
Eijiro presses his lips together, and he can feel a lump in his throat. She's so kind and helpful, and he doesn't even know what he did to deserve it. Letting him have her food, some of her things, even her bed, and on top of it all she's planning to lose sleep working on a way to help him tonight. He doesn't understand but he'll never forget how much he owes her as long as he lives.
"Why—" He has to clear his throat, voice a little hoarse. "Why are you… so nice? You're doing so much for me—and I appreciate it! I really, really do! But you don't even know me, why..."
Inko's expression softens, and turns just a little sad. She takes a deep breath, and the smile she offers him is heartbreaking.
"You remind me—an awful lot, actually—of my son," she tells him quietly. She clasps her hands in front of her and her eyes grow distant, but thinking about him clearly brings her so much joy. "I haven't seen him since he was your age, but you're just like him. You're both such sweet, polite boys. It's—it's a terribly dangerous world out there, but he's keeping people safe, just like you want to. You both think so much about other people—and you're so brave."
Her voice wavers on the last word and then—and then she's crying, tears an absolute flood, and before Eijiro realizes it he's got tears spilling down his cheeks, too. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
"It's all r-right," Inko says, but he can barely make it out through her tears. "Really, it is, I just—I just love him so m-much."
"I can tell," Eijiro says, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, but it doesn't do much to stem the flow of his sympathetic tears. "He's—he's got a really great mom."
"I have a really w-wonderful son," she responds, and Eijiro can't see with his hands pressed to his eyes, but he can hear that her weeping is only getting worse, and it just makes his worse in response. "I kn-know he's thinking about m-me every day, just like I think about him. And that's why I'm looking after you, Eijiro. I w-want to look after you the same way I'd—I'd hope someone would look after my baby. So just l-let me do that, okay?"
"Okay," Eijiro just barely manages, his own voice wobbling and wavering just like hers. He pulls his hands away from his eyes to see her frantically trying to stem the flow of her tears with a handkerchief, but it's not getting her very far.
"Good," she wails, and together the two of them are a complete and utter mess.
Eventually they manage to pull themselves together, enough so for Inko to finish cleaning up after their dinner and for Eijiro to get ready for bed. He doesn't have the heart, after all that, to argue with her further, and the complete and utter happiness on her face when he finally starts to climb into the bed makes getting past his hesitation completely worth it. He hopes that wherever her son is, he understands exactly how wholeheartedly wonderful his mother is, and cherishes her appropriately.
By the Goddesses, Eijiro hadn't realized how exhausted he was after everything until the exact moment his head hits the pillow—he tries to stay awake long enough to plan out how to get to the two shrines left on the plateau tomorrow, but it's in vain.
The last thing he sees before his eyes shut for good is Inko pulling out a sewing kit and something that looks like a blanket, maybe? It's vibrant red and has the winged Triforce symbol of Hyrule on it. He doesn't even have time to wonder how a blanket might help him get down from the plateau before sleep barrels into him with all the force of one of his newly-acquired bombs.
A/N: find me on tumblr at belladxne!
SO OOF... THIS ONE WAS UHHHHH A DOOZY. it honestly took so much effort to get it written because i'd remember which emotional part was about to happen next and just start internally wailing instead of writing ToT poor Eijiro, my baby has TRAUMA
i promise the exposition will be done soon, and i'll get ei off the great plateau next chapter !
please drop any comments or thoughts, no matter how small, here or on tumblr !