His daughter safe and out of sight, he went to the door, bracing for the worst. From their feminine voices to their orders from "the king", he had a good idea of what awaited him on the other side.
But if the malice outside was any indication of anything, it was that he could not run from his problems. Not anymore.
He pulled open the door and a fire lit in his stomach. Two women with earthy-colored skin, flaming-red hair and orange eyes. Both took in his appearance and their painted lips curved into smiles.
"Well, well," one of them said, amusedly, "You took your time in there. Did we arrive at a bad time?"
"What do you want?" he asked, not giving an inch to her taunt.
"We're looking for someone, under the king's orders." the second answered him, "You seem to match a lot of the descriptions, so we're here to escort you to him, personally."
"Whoever your king is thinking about," he told them, shaking his head, "I am not him. Continue your search elsewhere."
If either were convinced, they did not show. If anything, the women looked even more amused.
"We saw you in town earlier with a teenage girl. Is she your daughter?" one of them asked, slyly.
"She's not here." he said, shaking his head, "She went hunting in the woods."
"Oh?" They mocked intrigue. "Should we leave a message that her father dearest had an important meeting with the king?"
He gritted his teeth as he tried, again, to reason with them. "You would not rob a girl of her father over a baseless suspicion?"
"We would if the king demanded it, which he has. In fact, if she came out of those trees right here and now, we'd take her to him too, as a guest of honor." The other woman spoke without the slightest hint of concern, then pulled a curved dagger from her belt and pointed its tip right at his chest. "Enough excuses. Make this easy on yourself, old voe, and come with us."
The two women moved towards him, one on each side, both with daggers out and gleaming in the sun. He slowly backed away, casting a glance to his sides, briefly wondering how much his daughter had heard of their conversation.
There and then, he made up his mind.
No more of this.
The malice was telltale enough that time had run out and that there was nowhere left to run or hide. Now, he knew he was actively hunted and that a terrible fate awaited Aria regardless of whether or not she intervened.
But that would only happen if he did nothing. For the first time in years, action would net him favorable results.
He could not ignore this chance.
"No." His voice had rumbled from his chest, much to the surprise of the two women.
"I beg your pardon?" One of them asked, "I told you that 'no' was not an option."
She reached forward and gripped his wrist. His muscles tensed on contact and his fierce, blue eyes focused on her with a new fire in them.
"Let. Me. Go."
The woman scoffed. "You're in no position to make demands of the king's messengers. Now come quietly-"
It happened too fast for either woman to comprehend. One second she grasped his arm and had him at knifepoint, the next she had landed flat on her back, clutching a now-bleeding nose.
Her sister stared in disbelief at how fast everything occurred, then pondered just who this man could be. She and her sister were well-trained if their leanly-muscled arms and midriffs were any indication, yet this man-a humble farmer from the middle of nowhere-managed to dislodge her so swiftly.
The other woman sheathed her dagger and pulled out a gleaming scimitar in its place. "So there's more to you than meets the eye?" she said, holding the blade up and pointing its tip at him like an accusing finger, "Now I'm really curious as to why his majesty is so interested in you."
She winked, seemingly at him, but he saw right through her charade and ducked to the side just as the other woman lunged with her knife. She stumbled right past him, but turned on a dime to take a swipe at his face. Rather than step out of her reach, he ducked down low, letting the short blade pass over his head. Following up too fast for her to respond, he slammed the point of his elbow hard into her midsection.
The woman crumpled to her knees, then fell to all fours as she vomited up her stomach's contents-a testament to the damage inflicted on her abdomen. While she was temporarily out of the picture, the woman with the sword flew at her target, scimitar poised to cut a piece off of him.
He was quite resourceful, as she soon learned, for he pulled her sister's sword from the scabbard and used it, not to cut her down, but to parry the attack. He knocked the initial swing away with the borrowed blade, then quickly brought it down to block, their locked blades forming an "X" pattern, fiery orange eyes locking with ocean-blue as they pushed with all their might.
"Quite the swordsman, I see…" she said through grit teeth, "Now I really want to know why you have his majesty's attention, when I deliver you to him-!"
He pushed hard, sending her staggering away, but it did little to throw off her balance, for she was back in a combat stance in a split-second. He was too, however, and he sharply swung to intercept her roaring charge.
His stolen blade met, not the woman's own… But her wrist.
Shrieking in agony, the woman fell to her knees, clutching the bloody stump that was now her wrist. Her hand lay just beside her, still clasping the hilt of her scimitar.
"Sister!"
He turned and saw the other woman had regained her bearings, her horrified expression quickly turning to rage as she took up her dagger again and threw herself towards him. He casually sidestepped her thrust and, releasing his own scimitar, seized her around the neck with one hand and clasped her wrist in the other, keeping the dagger well out of reach.
His rage slowly faded to bitter contempt and, with a final heave, he tossed her to her defeated sister. Picking up the scimitar again, he pointed it at them.
"Take your sister and go." he said, sharply, "If you don't treat her wound, she'll be dead in an hour."
The sister that still bore both of her hands looked between him and her sister, then narrowed her eyes venomously before getting to her feet. She helped her sister to her feet, and walked away.
One turned back and called, "It will not end here! When his majesty learns of this-!"
"I'll be LONG gone by then!"
His bark-like voice silenced them, save for one last venomous glance, then their focus returned back to their path ahead. He watched them go a fair distance away before the weight of the situation finally took hold. He heaved a deep sigh and brought a hand to his face.
"So this is it..." he said, his voice quivering, hovering just above a whisper. A swirl of emotions stormed through him-relief and hope, but also fear and dread. "No more hiding. No more waiting."
As he told himself this, however, he looked at the back of his left hand. In the fight, some of his wrappings had come loose. His right hand hovered over it, wanting to pull them off for just a moment, but he bit it back swiftly and simply tightened them again.
It was then that he acknowledged the one aspect that made the path ahead seem so difficult and hard. It was not him. He had been hoping for a chance to finally set things in motion for over a decade. It was the girl he had hidden beneath the trapdoor.
"But what if she isn't ready? For the truth...or everything that is to come?"
For several minutes, Aria waited in darkness, hearing only muffled voices from within her confinement. Her breathing actually hitched when she heard raised voices and clanging metal. She feared the worst and that her father was never coming back.
Just as she thought of trying to get out and check if the danger had passed, the trapdoor creaked open again. She flinched and retreated at the sound, but her nerves calmed instantly as her father's voice rang out. "They're gone."
A second later and he pivoted his body over the edge, jumping down to her level. Several questions plagued Aria's mind, but she started with, "Who was it?"
He let loose a breath, almost as if in defeat, then looked her in the eye. "Did you see anyone when we were in town yesterday?" he asked her, "Anyone out-of-the-ordinary?"
Aria briefly thought about it, then answered without hesitation the instant an image sprang to mind. "Yes! Two women! They were dressed in…" She paused to search for the right word, "I don't know! I've never seen clothes like theirs, but they had dark skin and red hair. I think they were foreigners."
"Gerudo." Her father said to himself.
"Gerudo?"
"Women from the western desert." he told her, "Now they're the king's guard."
"I...I don't understand." Aria said, now genuinely confused, "The king's guard? Here? What would they want with you? With us?"
Her father's eyes fell to the side, as though not sure what the best answer for that was. When his eyes fell on hers again, he answered, "I don't know. They're looking for someone and thought I matched the description."
Aria gave him a puzzled look, as though not entirely believing him. Then her eyes met something on his face. She gestured to her cheek and her father dabbed at the same spot with his fingers, revealing a small smear of red.
Blood.
"Did you...fight them?" she asked, almost fearing the answer he would give.
"Aria," he said, a hint of plea in his otherwise-stern voice, "They were threatening to take me away from you. I couldn't leave you to fend for yourself. At best, I'd be imprisoned for months. At worst, I'd be killed!"
"Father, you have blood on your-" She interjected, but her father cut her off, his voice sharp and defensive.
"I didn't kill them, if that's what you're thinking." He did not lie.
When Aria continued to look unconvinced, he shook his head with a heavy sigh. "I know you have a lot of questions, but we must leave soon. Those women are gone for now, but I suspect they will return and in greater numbers. We'll likely only have an hour or two before they show up."
He walked past Aria to a darker corner of the compartment, reached down and hoisted up a large, wooden chest. Aria had not noticed it in the darkness, being more focused on staying put and keeping quiet. Tentatively, he took it by the edges, opening it slowly-almost reverently-and gazed upon its contents. Curious, Aria peeked past her father to see what was inside.
Her eyes fell upon the face of a round, wooden shield. Its surface was painted green, bearing white dragon-like symbols snaking around a sturdy, iron boss right in the center. From its smooth, unscratched surface, it appeared to be kept in good condition. Her father pulled the shield from the chest and what Aria saw beneath it captivated her further. He drew, from the chest, a sword at least three feet long and of simple design. With one hand on the length of the sheath and one hand on the handle, he lifted it up like it was a relic of ages gone, or that he was looking at the face of a beloved friend that he believed long-dead. Strapping the sheath to his back and slinging his shield over it soon after, he turned back to Aria. One look was enough to tell her that she would get answers when they were well out of reach of the Gerudo or beyond their ability to track.
He approached the trapdoor and crouched, clasping his hands together. Aria knew this position all too well and took a small running start before placing a foot on his clasped hands. One push from him aided her in clambering over the ledge. Once she was out, she leaned over the edge and offered a hand, which he took and used to pull himself to the ledge and clamber out.
As they both exited the house, only their necessities in their travel packs, Aria was of a mind to ask where their journey would begin, but then her father went over to the still-roaring fire, where all infected plants and the boar still burned. He took a particularly large branch that was still alight, and without a single ounce of hesitation, threw it into the still-open door.
"Father! What are you-?!" Aria asked in surprise, but he took her by the shoulder and turned her to their path ahead.
"We need to cover our tracks." he told her quietly and swiftly, "Make them believe we were attacked at least." He then added, his voice deepening and taking a more somber note, "And by doing this, we will have nowhere to return. From now on, we can only go forward."
Aria bit back tears, knowing her father had a point, but sad to leave behind the home she had known since childhood, never to return again. She watched smoke start to rise from the windows and doorway, already beginning to picture what it would look like in a matter of minutes. In the end, she forced her emotions down and turned her back on her home, continuing to walk, even as the humble house slowly began to go up in flames.