The sun fell on Hyrule. Gnisal liked it that way. As most of the group began to settle down, Gnisal offered to take the night watch. The Gerudos sat around the campfire, conversing in their own tongue. Some of the other Hylians, including Meathos, Albert, and the one called Jack, began to get some shuteye. Gnisal found himself a good tree, and concealed himself in its uppermost branches.
Hours passed….
As awake as any hylian would be at noon, Gnisal still tended to his post in the tree. None stirred in the camp, and naught was heard save someone's constant snoring. Gnisal leaned back, counting his Kill Stripes. He had thirty seven now, having relinquished five on the battlefield. Each one of them was the life of an innocent…A life that Gnisal had taken. Now, he would give those lives back. He would earn his way to redemption.
Someone stirred. Gnisal abandoned his train of thought, and slowly and silently drew his makhaira. It was Sirithe, the Wolfpack Hylian, who had supposedly joined them during the battle at the caravan. Gnisal didn't trust him, and judging by the other's reactions to him, neither did they. Seeing the Hylian stand and creep out of the camp triggered countless alarm bells in Gnisal's head.
With the sound of a cat's shadow, Gnisal descended the tree. Drifting from shadow to shadow, the Sheikah tracked his prey, skillfully maneuvering himself in front of Sirithe. The Hylian quietly made his way to a small clump of trees, almost a mile from the camp. Still silent, Gnisal hid behind a large boulder as the Hylian walked by. Moving like lightning, Gnisal jumped out and held one blade to the knight's throat.
"Out for a stroll, are we?" Gnisal said, relieving Sirithe of his sword.
"I heard something, and I tried following it." Sirithe replied, not in the least bit frightened by the makhaira at his neck.
"Lies!" Gnisal whispered loudly, "Why should I believe you?"
"Because," Sirithe said, pointing forward, "You're going to need my help against them…"
Only then did Gnisal hear the leaves rustle and the twigs snap.
Stepping out from behind the rail thin trees and the large boulders, were three members of the Sheikah Service. Computing the numbers in his head, Gnisal was not pleased with the odds granted by a one on three fight. A two on three fight, naturally, was better. And if this Sirithe turned on him? Well, the odds of surviving a four man encounter were just as bad as surviving a three man one. His chances of having good chances relied on Sirithe. Gnisal slackened his grip on the Hylian, and shoved his sword back into his hands.
Gnisal recognized the three Sheikah. Cindar, an Intel officer, probably was the one who found them. He had brought along Slev and Curass, a pair of thugs with a dozen Kill Stripes between them. Slev and Curass brandished longswords, and Cindar a pair of handaxes.
Cindar spoke first to Gnisal. "Well, well, Zero. I'm surprised to see you here."
"Don't call me that. That name no longer has any meaning to me. I left all I did with that name." Gnisal replied.
"Whatever, Zero. The Council wants you back. It seems that they need someone with your….talents for an upcoming hit. What say you, Zero?"
" Stop…calling me that!."
Gnisal lunged at the Sheikah, thrusting with his makhaira. Slev and Curass wheeled into action, but were met by Sirithe and his blade. Even wounded, years at the front had conditioned the Hylian into a ferocious warrior. He easily held off the two sheikah, who were trained to kill effortlessly in the night.
Gnisal swing his makhaira like a thing possessed. He hated everything Cindar and his organization stood for. They had bloodied the Sheikah name, dishonored themselves in front of their glorious ancestors. Gnisal deflected one of Cindar's axes, then thrusted with his other hand. Cindar twisted himself out of the way, punching Gnisal in the face with the bottom of on of the axes.
Gnisal stumbled back, his back finding a boulder there, inhibiting his movement. Cindar charged, bringing both axes down. Gnisal fell into the stone's shadow, and Cindar's axes sparked as he caught nothing but rock. Turning around, he caught sight of Sirithe dropping one of the Sheikah with a slash across the chest.
"Where are you, Zero? Fight me like a man!" Cindar shouted to the field.
Before he saw Gnisal materialize out of thin air, or rather thin shadows, and before he saw the makhaira smash through his sternum, Cindar thought he heard the phase "My name is Gnisal" float through the wind.
Sirithe slashed downwards at one of the Sheikah and killed him, these people weren't as tough as the Gerudo, but a challenge in their own way. Stealthy and quick, a possibly deadly combination. He had no idea where Gnisal went, but he had other things on his mind right about then.
He ducked down and lifted his shield over his head to catch the overhead slice from the longsword wielding Sheikah. He extended his foot and went to sweep the feet out from under his enemy, to no avail. The Sheikah jumped back.
Sirithe stood to full height and approached the Sheikah "I see you have some problems with Gnisal?"
"None of your concern Hylian." The Sheikah snarled.
Sirithe shrugged and lifted his sword to strike. He struck out toward the Sheikah, catching him in the leg. The Sheikah went down and lay still. Not dead, but in pain.
Sirithe took out his dagger and shoved it into the Sheikah's neck, he hated killing sometimes, but not when he was attacked first.
He walked back towards the camp and saw them about to leave. He hopped in the WarWagon and walked over towards Gnisal.
"Care to tell me what that was all about?" Sirithe asked.
"Not quite, but I will tell you this killing a member of the Sheikah Service, let alone two, which I am sure you did is a death sentence as far as they are concerned. They'll hunt you until they kill you." Gnisal responded
"Well isn't that just lovely?" Sirithe snarled sarcastically.
"Since you were there helping me, I'll help you. You can tag along with me, I guess." Gnisal said.
"Thanks." Sirithe said.
He stretched his legs out and began to rest. It then occured to him, if there were sufficient Hylians near Kokiri to warrant an ambush he could be blamed. He wouldn't be able to stay here, the Hylians would kill him for treason, and he highly doubted the Gerudo would take him in. All he could do is wait, wait and hope no one else would think he was only there to betray them, Meathos already suspected him, and he could read it in others glances.
Jack gave a loud snort in his sleep. He was dreaming back to the lands of ice and snow beyond the Hyrulian forest line. He dreamed of the midnight sun and the hotsprings of his homeland. (Bonus points if you can tell me what this is a referance to )
Jack had a wife once. Beautiful in her own ways. A strong willed woman, never shaken by anything, yet still held a heart that could melt away the coldest climate. It was obvious why Jack loved her.
But…why did he call himself that?
Jack.
What an odd and out of place name. His real name being Ciaran and his family name was a closely guarded secret, not to be shared but to the most trusted friend.
Jack rustled around in the sack a bit and rose in the morning light. He began preparing a bit of chicory and grumbled.
"A man cannae get a bit o' rest in this place. I wonder if the others are ready to be up and aboot this early."
Jack looked towards Meathos, the Hellrider, and saw a troubled face. Though he was sleeping, Meathos looked to still have a lot on his mind. Jack then looked to Albert and saw that he was in such a deep sleep that he decided not to wake him.
Jack walked down a path in the forest a bit and stopped at the base of a large deku. And drew out a quill and piece of parchment. Jack dipped the quill in ink and held it pised to begin writing.
"I figure to write mah music a bit here so those whelps cannae see it. This war we are in. It makes fer a good subject when it comes tae music. And these braw lads I'm with. They fight like warrior poets……They deserve to live forever in writing."
And so the song began, "Warrior Poets".
Jack sat writing for a good twenty minutes and the song was completed. It was a master ballad of braw warriors and troubles only solved through the clangs of cold steel. It was a worthy ballad for the warriors. Perhaps they'll see it one day.
"I like this bonny wee song. I'll have tae sing it aloud one day. I believe it suits th--!"
A small gurgle was heard as if a person was dieing. Jack rushed back to camp to inform the others of what he had heard.. When he arrived, Jack saw that the others had already awakened and were strapping on gear while helping themselves to a bit of chicory.
"I've heard something. A wee little sound in the woodland there. It sounded as if a poor creature was being killed."
At that same moment, Gnisal was walking back into camp. A few small splotches of blood could be see on his legs.
"An where have ye been ye shifty creature? An whose blood be that laddie?"
"Its non of your concern, foreinger."
Meathos halted the argument. He stepped between the two men and spoke strongly.
"It doesn't matter. It obviously not one of our people so lets not worry about it. We have to move out shortly. Get your gear and hop to it."
Ayame stood a few feet away from the group, her back facing them. She was kneeling down next to one of the dead bodies.
She gave a light tug and pulled out the last of her knives from the chest of the fallen soldier. She wiped the blood off on his arm and tucked it safely into her cloak.
The soldier had a young face, and he had died so quickly, his eyes were still open. He had the brightest blue eyes. Ayame gave a look of disgust. Looking at her dead victims in the eyes always gave her a small guilty feeling, so she pulled his helmet down over his eyes.
She saw he had a canteen on his belt, so she pulled it off, opened it and took a sip. It was water. She took a few gulps this time and lowered her hood. She turned around.
In total, there were five men in the group she had joined to fight with. She spied the Gerudo she had seen before and walked over to the him.
Jedam lifted his head, his thoughts interrupted, as Ayame approached him.
"It's nice to see a Gerudo…who's still alive after a fight." She reached out her hand. "My name is Ayame."
"I'm Jedam." Ayame shook his hand, and handed him the canteen. "It's just water..." she said, when she noticed his surprised look. She only hoped he didn't recognize her, many Gerudos still remembered her dark past.
"Who are they?" Ayame asked, turning her head towards the other four men.
"His name is Meathos" Jedam said, not pointing. Ayame simply followed his eyes. She looked at the Hylian man sitting on the dead soldier. Their eyes met, but there was no smile, or words exchanged from either of them. The look in their eyes said it all. It was a look of understanding.
"Gnisal is in there" Jedam was looking towards the WarWagon. She glanced around at the others, and then it occurred to her.
"Was he the Sheikah?"
"Yes", replied Jedam.
Ayame's eyes narrowed. She remembered seeing him. His outfit, let alone his fighting style was very different from the others. How strange. This group was much more diverse than she thought.
"His name is Jack, and that's…" Ayame's eyes widened at she immediately recognized Sirithe, who was presently getting in the WarWagon as well. Other than that, she made no reaction, but inside she was relieved to see he was alright. "I wonder what he'll do if he sees me…" she thought. Obviously he would be fighting with her, that is, if he still didn't want to arrest her. But she didn't want to worry about that now.
"So...what's the plan?"
"That guy Sirithe came up with the idea that we should head to the Forest. We hope to…"
"Get as far away from them as possible?" Ayame interrupted, seeing the soldiers approaching in the distance. "I see…" She turned to Jedam and gave a small smile. "Thank you."
Ayame headed towards the WarWagon. Before she reached it, she stopped in front of the man named Meathos. Meathos looked up, but not moving his head. Ayame kneeled down to eye level.
"My name is Ayame, and I'm here to help, in any way I can."
Meathos gave a her a small nod, and Ayame stood up once again. That was all she needed. She finished walking to the WarWagon and climbed inside.
Gnisal thumbed the area where his old Kill Stripe had lingered. He now had thirty six, having left one more of the symbolic lives on his latest kill. Cindar, the slimy intelligence officer, was barely worthy of representing Freya White, the political activist who Gnisal murdered on his thirty seventh assignment. He knew all their names, remembered every face...Remembered all the silent looks of terror as he killed them.
"Hey, are you all right?" Jedam said, jarring Gnisal out his private lamentation.
"I'm fine." Gnisal replied. "I don't want to talk now. Later. Tonight, perhaps." Gnisal squinted up at the sun. It was too damn bright. The bleaching sun stung his eyes. Gnisal longed for the cool, enveloping cloak of darkness to take him. Then, only then, would he be at peace.
Jedam nodded, and went off to talk to Meathos, who was carefully guiding the WarWagon over some rough terrain. An auburn haired girl sided up next to Gnisal.
"Hey, whatcha doing?" the girl asked, tapping Gnisal on the shoulder.
The light, it was so damn burning. It was a constant pain that Gnisal could not escape. He didn't want to talk now. Couldn't all these people realize it? He hadn't even bothered to clean Cindar's blood off his jumpsuit. The sun, that damn sun…
"Get away from me!" Gnisal snapped.
The girl jumped a bit, and walked off in a different direction. Damn kids, Gnisal thought. She was practically half his age. Probably never killed a man before. Some "revolutionaries". Looking around, the only people Gnisal recognized, or could trust for that matter, were Meathos, Jedam, and Sirithe. The Wolfpack Hylian had proven himself to Gnisal. Killing a Sheikah was no laughing matter.
Gnisal looked around at the other members of his newly found team.
There was one, Albert, who looked Hylian, but...moved wrong. Gnisal really couldn't place what it was about him that set him apart. Something about Albert felt foreign, and Gnisal wasn't sure if he could trust this foreigner. He certainly couldn't trust him until he learned more about him. Information was the key to life and death on a battlefield.
Scanning around, Gnisal's eyes fell upon the Gerudo woman, Ayame. She was silent, deathly silent. She would have made a good Sheikah, Gnisal mused. Ayame had really only spoken to Jedam on a few occasions, and mostly kept to herself. Once again, Gnisal resigned himself to find out more about his newfound companion, before he could truly devote his trust to her.
There were others, a Hylian named Jack who had busted out of Kakariko with the other three, and a ton of Gorons, led by the great Darmani II. Gnisal made a point to keep some distance between himself and the Gorons. He had done far too many jobs on Death Mountain. The last thing he needed was for some angry relative of one of his Kill Stripes to recognize him.
The sun had just cleared its highest point, and was slowly beginning its downfall. His course set, Meathos turned control over to Jedam and slid down onto a bench across from Gnisal.
"So, I figure it will take another day to reach the outskirts of the Forest. What do you think?" Meathos inquired of the Sheikah.
That damn sun, Gnisal thought, why won't it let me be?
Gnisal sucked in his breath, and forced himself to speak. "I'll….talk to you later, Meathos"