The calm sounds of the forest have begun to return, as if the creatures producing them had been hiding for the duration of the fight. I had already been walking back towards the village for a while now, at least where I believe it's located. I refrained from putting my tunic back on in case the dragon had returned for a second attempt at my life, or perhaps another one like it. It's been about an hour since that fight, and I can see the orange haze of dusk filling the forest.
Nightfall's never particularly been a concern to me, given the amount of time I've spent traveling Hyrule under the cover of the evening, but the massive amount of trees in this forest might make the task a bit more dangerous to me. I concede to logic and find a thick enough tree to lean behind as I unstrap my sword sheath and belt, laying them both next to me. I'd strapped them over my chainmail while keeping my tunic wrapped around my shield arm, but it's better to err on the side of caution for any possible sneak attack rather than one specific dragon.
I quickly slip the tunic over my head and strap my belt around my waist to keep it snug and secure. I don't exactly care to stay in this forest for longer than I have to, so I opt to sloppily fasten the royal sword's sheath across my torso for now. I return to my rather aimless walk back to the village, brushing off the few ashes that clung to my tunic from earlier. As expected, it's not even slightly damaged, albeit the cloth is much warmer than usual. That's fine by me, it's a little cold in this place anyways.
As I wandered, the orange haze slowly but surely left the forest and in its place, the comforting hue of moonlight washed over the trees. I manage to spot the Great Hall over the trees, much to my relief. My lengthy trip lasts for just a few more minutes as I walk back through the back door of the massive building, the same one that led me out here to begin with. Unsurprisingly, there's no one here, but there are a few torches lit. I make my way for the front door to return to the village, absentmindedly looking about the room yet again.
As my eyes scan the room, a yawn unconsciously escapes my mouth, reminding me of my fatigue. I haven't slept in quite some time, so perhaps I should get some rest. I suppose finding Stoick should to ask him about the house he was preparing for me. I'd hope he's just giving me an abandoned one, but given what little I've seen of these people, I haven't exactly put aside the idea of them building me an entirely new one.
Ah, whatever. Concerns for later. For now, finding the house of a chief can't be harder than navigating that forest. While Mayor Bo's house doubled as a meeting place for the village back in Ordon, I'm not likely to find the same case here, given that I'm standing in the very meeting place for this village now.
"Second biggest building it is," I mutter to myself. If nothing else, finding the most aggressive looking house should work just fine. Looking over the village from this vantage, it has an odd beauty to it unlike what I saw from the cliffside last night. This hall was truly made to overlook all its people, and the feeling is a little invigorating to be honest. Zelda always told me she got a feeling of pride looking upon the bustling market of Hyrule Castle Town from her tower, but given that the construct is still being rebuilt from Ganon's clash with the Fused Shadows.
The faint wisp of my breath filling the air continues to remind me of the cold, but it doesn't bother me much. The village is so much calmer at night, at least when it's not following a dragon attack. There's a few people standing around, likely as guards, but for the most part, everyone seems to be in their homes already. The persistent chatter of the day is replaced with the familiar sound of crickets, and it's a tranquility not unlike one I'd find wandering Kakariko at night.
Knowing my luck, a Twilight portal should open and break the peace any minute now.
Pfft. I scoff at the thought, but I'm not sure if it was a joke or a legitimate concern. Before that inquiry has any time to develop further, I make my way down the stone steps away from the Great Hall, the heavy doors shutting on their own beside me once I let go of them.
Second biggest building, huh? Aside from the Great Hall, most houses around here seem to be a similar size, the most identifiable qualities setting them apart being their positions. With hills everywhere across the village, some of these houses are at higher elevations than others, making them stand out more. Naturally, my eyes are being drawn to these peaks as I look around, but to little avail in determining size differences. The lack of light isn't helping me either when it comes to discerning structural design choices between one another.
Ugh. I suppose I could ask one of the vikings standing around, but something about the image of a stranger asking where the chief's house is at this hour seems a little concerning. Let's just keep that as a last resort if I can't figure it out on my own.
I walk slowly through the village, trying to look around as much as I can in the meantime, and out of the corner of my eye, I notice something different. As I thought, it's hard to pick apart structural designs, but I can at least differentiate what's around them, especially with the houses placed on hills.
This house some distances to my left has a place for holding a torch. Simplicity at its finest, but that's not why I care. If the Great Hall is adorned with draconic totems and statues, then what kind of decoration would the chief's house have?
Surely enough, after some moments of looking around, I find a house with dragon statues adorning its path, some crude stone steps not unlike the ones leading up to the Great Hall. The village may not be as small as Ordon, but it's compact enough that walking to the house doesn't take me much time.
For a chief's residence, it's quite unassuming. I'm not sure if that's due to some respectable sense of humility or a preference for simplicity, nor is it my place to question it. For a moment, I have to remind myself not to simply barge in as I'm so used to doing back in Hyrule. I roll my eyes when my knocking is simply returned by Stoick calling out that the door is open, but walk in anyways.
"Ah, Link. Didn't expect to see you this late."
Yeah, that's fair. "Sorry to intrude, but I wanted to find out where I should be resting my head for the night."
"Ah, right." He taps his hand against his head as if the thought was locked away until just now. "With everything else going on, I'd forgotten to show you."
Well, at least he didn't forget the house itself. "That's quite alright. You can just tell me where it is and I'm sure I'll find it."
"Bah. I wouldn't be a chief if I left everyone to themselves." Before I get a chance to tell him it's fine, he throws up head up towards the stairs and shouts out for Hiccup. Like clockwork, the boy comes trotting down the stairs, although none too rushed.
Of course, before Hiccup can even ask what he was called down for, the staunch chief just speaks first. "Show Link here where he'll be staying. You know the place, don't you?"
There's an odd bit of irony in the chief making a haughty claim like that and then passing the task to his son, but I opt to hold my tongue on addressing it. I didn't quite hear, but I think Hiccup made some sort of quip back at Stoick before walking over towards me. For how small the boy is, he doesn't seem to have much of a problem with sassing back at the chief.
"Lead the way." I step aside to let Hiccup go through the entrance first before following him out. Shutting the door rather hastily, he walks a few paces ahead and turns back to me.
"What happened out there? I heard thunder, and a dragon and-" I take a moment to gesture for Hiccup to hush a little bit before he gets a bit too excitable about the ordeal. "Sorry. But really, what happened?" His voice has dropped to just above a whisper, but he still seems bursting with questions on the inside.
Goddesses, where do I begin. I think I'll leave out the part about getting lost. "Come on." I urge him to go on so that I don't have to stand out here while I speak. "Before I explain, lemme ask you," I begin in a hushed voice to match Hiccup's. "Are there any dragons you know of that spit lightning instead of fire?"
The question seems to have caught him off guard, because his expression blanks out for a good few seconds. At least he's still walking. "Lightning?"
He takes a moment to think, and deeply at that. You can practically see him flipping through the mental pages of his brain. "Well... when Night Furies attack, all anyone sees is a flash and then an explosion. But... I've never heard of them attacking with lightning."
Night Fury? That was the dragon that let him go. There's no chance that it was one of those, they didn't even look alike. Their snarls and roars sounded different too. "No, it wasn't one of those. This thing... it looked like a demon."
"Demon, huh?" Surprisingly, Hiccup scoffs at the word. "Well, that won't help you. The people here call almost every dragon the same thing. Demon, devil, terror, beast... sometimes they get creative."
"I wonder how they'd react if you told them one of those 'demons' let you go free."
Hiccup staggered a moment as if my words themselves had tripped him. When I looked over to his face, there was a nervous smile mixed with a grimace gracing his features. "What?"
Albeit slightly shakily, he does explain himself. "Maybe... don't tell anyone that part. People here aren't very..."
Open-minded. Zelda taught me that term, albeit the concept was already well known to me. She'd comment on how much of a task it was to bridge relations between the different races of Hyrule because some aren't as open-minded as others. Attempting to both interact with the Bulblins as well as calm down public concerns about them showed me plain as day that you can't simply change minds overnight. Except for King Bulblin, Nayru knows what's going on in his simple head.
"I get it," I mutter back. "You think that one's special? Or would any of them have spared you?"
Keeping mindful of our surroundings, I lower my voice even further down to a whisper. Hiccup himself looks around quickly before replying in the same whisper.
"I... don't know. Maybe it's just because I freed it. What about you?"
Good question. I've killed two dragons and fought one since I've been here, and none of them offer me any consistent basis. The first was bloodthirsty and reckless, the second looked regretful right before the end, and the most recent encounter was patient and almost calculating. They're as different as people.
I answer Hiccup as truthfully as I can, but the answer probably won't please him much. "I need to know more about them first. We both do."
"Oh, don't you worry about that," Hiccup declares sarcastically. "I'll learn everything about them in dragon training tomorrow. I guess."
"Dragon training?" That's right, his father and that blacksmith did mention taking Hiccup into training. I can't imagine that the kid would be too thrilled to go right into learning how to kill dragons after being spared by one though.
"Yeah, uh... We all start training tomorrow. Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, the twins... and then me." He's saying names and I honestly wish I knew who they referred to.
"You don't have to go, you know."
He scoffs before I'm even done saying the sentence. "And just defy Stoick the Vast?" He puts on a bit more of a theatrical tone when saying his father's full title, more sarcasm dripping from his tone. "You really are new around here."
"Right, and what exactly do they teach you in dragon training?" I can notice him avoiding eye contact with me, judging by his uncomfortable fidgeting as I continue to glare at the back of his head.
"Oh you know, just... the essentials." I almost feel a little bad hearing his tone drop so far so fast. "How to gut a Gronckle, which head to cut off a Zippleback, the best place to spear a Nadder... Important viking stuff."
There's about a dozen things I could say in response to that, and I'm not sure which one is ideal. I suppose simple is best, as the only response I offer is a soft, "you won't."
"I can't," he retorts. "I'm just... not like them."
This is a unique position for me. I thought of this before to be like Colin's situation, but it truthfully couldn't be more different. I'm caught between wanting to encourage him to find a way to be accepted by everyone else, but his gentle heart is something to be treasured as well. Perhaps it's the heart of a coward, but either way, it belongs to a boy that knows no bloodshed.
After some moments of silence, Hiccup pulls ahead of me. I think about calling out to him, but it's probably better to shelve the topic for now. At least until we get to... wherever I'm staying.
A year ago I might have been thankful for the silence between us now, but having spent as much time as I did with Midna, it just comes off as awkward. Damn it, kid, be more talkative. It's easier to listen than to speak anyway.
...
Fine, I'll do it.
"Is it much further to the place?"
I could see his shoulders jolt ever so slightly. I probably roused him from whatever thought he was absorbed in.
"Ah, yeah. I mean, no. We're almost there."
He's stumbling over his words again, unsurprisingly, but I opt not to regard it.
"He's not giving me a whole house, is he?" I ask with a slight bit of unease.
Hiccup scoffs at the question, doing away with some of my worries.
"Of course he is. Just been built too."
Goddesses damn it. Wait, what? "I've been here a day, how's it already built?"
"Yeah, how long does it take to make houses where you're from?"
I swear to Din, my confusion must be spread across my whole face. It's gotta be a smaller house, right? Like, shed-sized. It can't actually be a full size house.
We walk for a few minutes longer before Hiccup directs me behind another house. He stops in front of the location with a nonchalant, "we're here," and by this point my brain has more or less ceased function in the face of my confusion.
The house is the same size as every other, maybe even a bit bigger than a few. Seriously, what the hell. I mean, it's... basic? I guess? It's not as stylized as the other houses around the villages, but this is still a whole house.
"So... that house is empty, right?"
Please say yes.
"Course not, it's got everything you should need. The bed might only be straw, though. Not enough time to shear a sheep and all."
Why.
Aren't I a hero? Shouldn't I be camping out in the woods or something?
Did I ever even sleep at that inn back at Kakariko?
...Did I even sleep?
"Uh... Link?"
Ah, right. Hiccup's slightly confused voice brings me back to reality, but unfortunately back to the unnecessarily nice house before me.
"It's just... don't you think this is a bit much?" Honestly, I've never been that good with praise or hand-outs. Accepting the rewards that people insisted on giving me across my adventure was troublesome enough, but Midna wouldn't let me give up any.
Of course, though, Hiccup just shrugs in response. "Berk is kind of like one really big family. Sure, you just got here, but that doesn't matter. Vikings here tend to work together as long as everyone is willing."
I cast a somewhat skeptical glance in his direction before replying, "Isn't it a bit hasty to consider me part of this 'family?'"
"Maybe," he says with a shrug. "But that hasn't stopped any of us before."
Unintentionally, I click my tongue in reply. I'm not trying to be rude, but having such an impressionable way of life has got to come with its share of problems. People in Hyrule are open to one another, true, but every village has its own standards and some need for trust.
I take another look at Hiccup, still turned away from me and instead looking at the house. A scowl assaults my features, directed not at the boy, but instead my own constantly shifting opinion of this village. The leader of the Royal Guard within me sees these people as fools for being so trusting, while the farm boy wants to give in to the comfortable community set before me.
Within a little over a day's time, I've been offered two sides to this village; the peaceful calm of an organized community and the hostile environment of a village forced to defend themselves. One moment I'm being interrogated by the chief and then next I'm helping him in planning a raid on the dragon's den. The boy before me and his own father is enough of a contrast to show me how little I really know about this place.
I can't tell if the emotion I'm feeling is confusion or frustration, nor can I tell who the target of it is. Of course, this uncertainty only annoys me further and the cycle continues itself. I roll my eyes at no one in particular and decide to shelve the thought for now, lest it get in the way of my better judgement. Hiccup's already left my sight, most likely in the house already. I follow him inside, taking some brief mental notes of the house around me as I do.
The first thing I notice about the interior is that the house appears much larger on the outside. It stands to reason that there might be some extra padding between the exterior woodwork and the interior, given the village's history with dragons. That or shoddy architecture, I'm not going to guess which.
The only pieces of furniture is a single bed, albeit large enough to fit a Goron, and a humble nightstand beside it. There's no rugs, no shelves, nothing like the barracks back in Castle Town, or even my treehouse in Ordon. The forgotten crates left behind from the construction process could probably suffice as furniture to some, but something tells me that they'll be moved out soon enough.
I take a few steps around the house, listening to the way the wooding creaks with each step, and the way my footsteps echo off of the empty walls. Hiccup finds a vacant crate to sit on, albeit a bit warily.
Part of me is a little glad that there's not much decoration, at least it makes me feel better about imposing on them like this, even if they did offer it to me. Normally, I'd request a chest to put my belongings in, but it's not like I'm carrying much. Would at least be nice if I had my bow, but non-lethal methods might suit my surroundings better anyways.
"Little light on the decor, but hey it's something, right?" Hiccup chimes from his spot on a noticeably weakening crate.
I offer a half-hearted shrug in response as I walk over to the bed, my ears still unconsciously twitching at each reverberating footstep. "I've grown up with less. Nothing I can't fill up on my own." Granted, my treehouse in Ordon wasn't exactly empty, and the barracks in Hyrule Castle Town are far from barren, but they both pale in comparison to this house's size. Even my personal chambers among the knights is still just a room.
"That reminds me," Hiccup leans forward, eliciting more creaking from the crate supporting him. "Where are you from, anyways?"
Goddesses, this question twice in a day. Well, I can't blame them. Mysterious strangers make for the best stories, I suppose. It's not like I have to be all too reserved around Hiccup either, at least opposed to his father. To some level, I can trust him not to get too suspicious or make a fuss.
I suppose it's hypocritical to chastise a village for being too trusting and then demonstrate the same thing myself. I briefly scan Hiccup's face for any signs of suspicion, but all I can find is a genuine curiosity.
"My home nation is called Hyrule. I'm sure you've guessed this already, but it's not exactly... around here." My long ears twitch as if to add to the point. I see Hiccup's eyes from mine to my ears for just a moment before returning eye contact. "To put it into a few words, it's... magical. I mean, your dragons are certainly incredible, but the monsters of Hyrule are like you've never seen."
Hiccup gulps in fear, eliciting a quiet chuckle from me. "Uh, monsters?" He blurts out.
Trying to keep a smirk off my face, I nod in response before looking down at the floorboards. "Yeah, all kinds of them. But the people are just as extraordinary. You'll never meet the same kind of personality twice in Hyrule."
Unless it's one of the guards.
"Truth be told, I can't really put it into words. I'm not particularly great with speaking anyways, but Hyrule is just that much more amazing. It's all... connected. We don't have islands like this, so everyone has to find some kind of mutual ground."
In the back of my mind, fond images of Ordon village are coming forward, reminding me of the blissful isolation that I knew for so many years. There's a certain level of understanding I can share with the people here and the small world that they maintain around here. I could feel right at home some time ago, but after seeing the things I've seen around Hyrule, I don't think I can ever go back to this sort of contained community. Maybe it would be a little pretentious to call it the spirit of adventure pushing me to new places, but the thought is all I can conjure up.
I can only assume we don't share that sentiment. This world must be all that Hiccup's ever known, regardless of whether or not he thinks he fits in. Treating the entire village as one big family, there wouldn't be much need to expand one's horizons if they have everything they need here. The dragons are a problem of course, but the people's willingness to defend the village against them sends a clear message; this is their home, and they won't be moved from it.
The silence between us as well as my own thoughts hang over me for little more than a moment. I think about what next to say, but Hiccup beats me to the punch this time. "Sounds incredible."
"Huh?" I break my gaze away from the floor and look directly at the boy. My shock only increases when I see the awestruck, starry look in his eyes. It's a different look from what Stoick had. The chief listened to the tales of a warrior, speaking more to my experiences as a hero rather than that of a person. Hiccup's heard none of that. No, instead, he's responding to my personal ramblings. And yet, he's still interested.
"Well, the whole terrifying monsters part is less than ideal... Still though, I can't imagine what's outside of this village besides more dragons."
Less than you'd think, actually.
"But you, I mean, you've actually been somewhere that doesn't just end at a coastline and a mountain."
I lean forward a bit, propping my head up with my arm as I speak. "I haven't even started listing the downsides. The sword on my back isn't just for show, you know."
Hiccup smiles, but this one bearing a bit more confidence to it. "Well you called yourself a knight, didn't you? I'd hope you know how to use a weapon."
He bobs his head around as he speaks, putting off a clear air of playfulness. Sarcastic little brat, but I guess it's refreshing to talk with someone that has a bit more bite to their words than my usual company. Deciding to humor him a bit, I opt to carry on. "Shouldn't it be better to not need a sword in the first place?"
"True," he makes a gesture towards me as if physically conceding the point to me. "But, that's not exactly an option here anyways, what with all the flying reptiles spitting fire." His quip paired with his motion of twirling his finger in the air earns a light-hearted scoff out of me, against my best efforts to pretend to be serious.
Admittedly, Hiccup's interesting to talk to in situations like this. He attaches a gesture to practically everything he says, for whatever reason. Part of me wonders if it's just something he does without realizing. He's certainly a theatrical speaker, by all accounts, but not to the point of annoyance. His tone is a few steps away from condescending, but not close enough to it to make me think any less of him.
A boy as frail as him, I suppose it makes sense for him to hone his tongue over his sword arm. "You've got training courses for stuff like that. When you're away from home, there's not nearly as many people watching your back."
Hiccup opens his mouth to retort, but instead decides to just offer a dry chuckle. His face doesn't change much, but the shift from his much more natural smile to a slightly nervous one tells me that I stepped on a Leever here. I suppose it shouldn't come as a surprise that he's still unsettled about the idea.
"Though I guess that's what the sword is for, huh?" I do want to address the point of dragon training sooner or later, but there's no need to force it this early in the conversation, especially when I've just started to get him comfortable. For now, I might as well keep it going before he has too much time to start worrying again. "Not a bad idea to know your way around one if you do have to travel."
His eyes bounce back between my sword and my bracers, before returning to my own eyes. "So uh..."
I raise my eyebrows as Hiccup tries to form his question. He seems to have lost most of his momentum in the conversation, and admittedly I feel a bit bad about carelessly bringing up the topic as I did. Although, while I think that he's about to go back to the topic of dragons, I see him stealing a few more glances at the hilt of my blade.
"Ah," Unintentionally, a soft laugh escapes my lips. I reach behind my back and draw the sword, pulling down on my sheath from the other end to let it draw smoothly. Hiccup jumps back in his seat a little, eliciting more creaking from the crate below him. His gaze, however, is still transfixed on the weapon in my hand.
"You wanted to ask about the sword, didn't you?" There's a slightly smug tone to my words, but it's mostly drawn from the familiarity of the look he's giving my blade. Talo always reacted the same way, no matter what kind of weapon I was bringing from point A to point B. The little devil did finally manage to get my first sword out of me, so I suppose that counts for something.
"No, no, of course not," he spurts, waving his hand back and forth dismissively. Just as quickly, he pinches his fingers together and continues. "Maybe a little."
I scoff again and flip the sword into a reverse grip to hand it safely over to Hiccup. "Careful, it's heavy." I wait for him to grip it with both hands before letting go of the hilt. Surprisingly, the sword's edge doesn't waver under his grip this time. I suppose it's not unreasonable that he remembered its weight from the last time I had him hold it.
"Thought so."
"Hm?" My ears twitch at Hiccup's mutter, bringing my eyes back up from the sword.
"I was just thinking, your sword is... so different from the ones we have around here." He begins turning the sword around in his hands to get a look at various aspects of it. Its beauty is characteristic, being beaten out only by that of the Master Sword itself. Zelda made sure to commission a weapon "worthy of my merits as a hero," as she described it.
Compared to the almost uniform straightness of the Master Sword, this royal weapon has a bit more decoration to its features. Most notably, its edge curves slightly inward towards the middle of the blade, and back out again. It's a bit more slender than the Master Sword, but Zelda had taken care to ensure that it wouldn't be an unfamiliar weight to me. The hilt itself, interestingly, is a rather large portion of the weight, probably due to whatever material it was made with. The metal lacks the almost ethereal glow that the blade of evil's bane carries, but its surface bears a dark grey finish that knows no concept of scratches or stains.
The same way that I'm taking in all of its details, I can see Hiccup's eyes thoroughly scanning every inch of the elegant weapon. He props it against the crate and rubs his finger along its edge, and then the surface. "What's this made of?" He breaks his gaze away from the weapon to ask me this quick question.
It takes me a moment to remember the details, but I think I recall what I was told. "It's a mix. Goron steel forged with dragon scales."
Due to the Gorons' living situation, they needed a material that wouldn't just crumble under the intense heat and pressure of Death Mountain. I'm sure they could manage with enough stone, but it's the mine that makes things complicated. Any mining equipment they use has to be able to match the extreme conditions within the volcano. According to legend, the ancient patriarch and leader of the Gorons, Darunia, discovered a method of excavating a black metal from the caverns of Death Mountain. It's said that he withstood the heat of the volcano to use its very lava as a forge and the result was a mighty hammer capable of tearing through rubble with ease without melting from the surrounding environment.
Honestly, the story sounds ridiculous, but given everything that I've seen, I suppose I don't have the right to judge or question it.
The metal's most notable feature, aside from its dark finish, is that it's only found within Death Mountain, and is noticeably resistant to heat. This quality has earned it a mainstay within the Hylian Royal armories, especially for our shields. It's used sparingly, given the high cost, but the small amount used is enough to make the shield notably effective in resisting fire. Some say that this trait was granted directly by the goddess Din when she descended upon the land.
The second component of the blade, mostly laid into the edge, is a fragmented dragon scale. The Gorons had happily supplied the steel as a commemorative gift for lifting the Twilight from the area, but once they had learned the sword was being made for me, Darbus insisted that he use one of their dragon scales in supply. Apparently, it was ripped from a beast known as Volvagia, a serpent-like dragon that arose some years after the imprisonment of Ganondorf. I'm told that my ancestor had helped the Gorons defeat it, and it dropped a number of its scales over the course of the battle.
Each scale was massive enough that just one was able to be broken up and forged into the razor sharp edge that adorns my weapon now. Apparently, it has a distinctive magic property, but I have yet to explore the limits of its capabilities. I have noticed that the edge takes on a plum glow when exposed to fire, however.
Despite all the myth and folklore that surrounds the two components of my blade, Hiccup seems to be wholly confused by the words alone.
"Goron steel?" Hiccup looks back down at the blade, visibly puzzled by my response.
I had a feeling that this reaction would occur. I've been forming a few theories about this place over the course of the day, as well as any observations. The building structure and weaponry told me a few things about their culture, but nothing to particularly indicate where I am. The dragons made me suspicious, especially given their bizarre bodies. They don't line up with anything I've seen around Hyrule, much like how the Twilight Beasts looked unnatural compared to the monsters of Hyrule.
The lack of magic in the surrounding area is another concern. I'm not particularly sensitive to magic, but spending as much time as I have around Midna, and especially given the time I spent within the Twilight, I've become quite familiar with the feeling of magical energy in the air around me. Hyrule itself has a noticeable amount, just enough that I can manage to make use of it, assuming that I'm at peak vitality.
Berk doesn't seem to have any of that. As I am now, I don't think I could even manage a Great Spin Attack at my best.
I didn't mention much Hylian mythology to Stoick when I had talked with him, but I directed the conversations in a manner that would at least allow anyone familiar with legend to jump in. But everything sounded new to him. Hyrule is by no means the entirety of the planet, but it's well known enough that its races at the very least should be universally understood.
I'll move on from the thought for now, but I'm starting to think that this place is much more than just a faraway land.
"Link?" Hiccup's attempts to get my attention bring me back to the fact that he's looking right at me, and probably has been for a few seconds now.
"Sorry, I was thinking about something," I reply honestly. "What's up?"
He opens his mouth again, but stops for a moment before speaking. "Who taught you how to fight?"
His eyes tell me that's not the question he wanted to ask. I get the feeling that he wanted to ask me something a bit more personal, but I won't press the subject if he won't. "I did." His eyes widen some at my response, but he keeps quiet and allows me to continue talking. "I lived close to the forest, where it would be easiest for monsters to attack from. So I started learning early on how to fight. Without a weapon, I kept coming back with bruises and cuts, so I kept worrying everybody."
I shift my weight a little bit on the bed before continuing. Hiccup's been done inspecting my sword for a while, but I let him hold onto it while I talk. "Eventually my old man comes to me one day and asks me if I want him to help me out." Looking back on my past, I scoff at myself for a moment, starting to remember the way I used to be as a kid. "I was a stubborn little shit back then. Kept shouting at him how 'You ain't my dad' or 'I ain't need help!' Took me a few years to get rid of that accent, by the way."
"Eh, you get used to it," Hiccup remarks while shrugging.
We both laugh a bit, a nostalgic smile taking over my own features. "In some stupid attempt to provoke him, I told him that I could beat him easily. He accepted the challenge and handed me the wooden sword that he was carrying. Told me that if I hit him once, I win. He didn't even get a weapon for himself. Didn't matter though, he still made me look like a fool. All he had to do was hold out his foot when I tried to swing at him and I'd fall on my own."
"And it kept working?"
"Oh no, I learned quick. Then he just started throwing me."
"Also effective, I suppose."
I nod affirmatively in response before continuing the story. "After a while, his point was made and I was much less than pleased. Still though, he told me to keep the wooden sword. He said if I keep training with it, he might teach me how to use it. I thought about throwing the thing into the lake, but I just told myself that I could use it to deal with the monsters. It certainly helped for a bit, so I got careless and decided to go directly into the forest. I learned something very important that day."
My smile fades for a moment, and I see Hiccup stiffen up a bit. My mind races to Talo running off into the forest for a brief second, but I don't linger in my thoughts for too long. "The forests of Hyrule are dangerous. When a monster comes to us, it's all on its own. But when you bring the fight to them, they coordinate. They work together. By the time I managed to cut down one monster, it already called over five of its friends and I was surrounded."
Surprising myself, I let out a self deprecating scoff as I remember the way this story ends. "I guess I shouldn't say that there's no one watching your back after all."
"Huh?" Hiccup tilts his head in confusion as I mutter a sardonic response to my own words from earlier.
Rather than clearing up his confusion, I opt to continue on with the story. "Anyways, I'm sure you've guessed, but I didn't die in that forest that day. Turns out old man Rusl had been keeping an eye on me ever since out 'fight.' He sprinted right to me and carved through two monsters in half the time it took me to kill one. The rest didn't even stand a chance, they just ran. After all was said and done, he didn't scold me or anything. Just helped me up and asked if I was okay. Long as I can remember, that was the first time I'd ever cried."puts a
"Somehow I can't picture that."
"Everyone cries at some point." I reply with a shrug. "In any case, once we got back to the village, he asked me again if I wanted him to teach me how to use a sword. This time I accepted. I was always light on my toes and a scrappy little bastard, but knowing how to use a weapon is a whole 'nother thing."
I push myself up from my position on the bad so that I'm sitting proper again. "So," My story concluded, I hold out my hand to take my sword back from Hiccup. Wordlessly, he sets the hilt back in my hands, and I return it to its custom sheath. "Why'd you ask?"
Switching off to his turn to tell a story, I lean forward intent on listening. "Well, I was just thinking..." He scratches the back of his head, almost habitually as he speaks. "Everyone around here fights the same, y'know? A real viking's way, throwing around a sword with all your strength." He puts on a fake accent for his last sentence, mimicking the other vikings that I've spoken to around here.
"But you, the way you fight is so... different."
"You saw me fight once," I scoff back.
"And you fought differently." I roll my eyes at his simple response, but gesture for him to keep going anyways.
"Different how, then?"
Hiccup puts a hand to his chin for a moment, visibly mulling over his choice of words. I wait patiently as I listen to the series of vocalizations coming from his pondering. "It's like a dance."
"A dance?"
"Yeah," He pats the palm of his hand with his fist as if he found the perfect way to describe it. "The way you moved around the- uh, you know."
"Mhm."
"Right, the way you moved around it while attacking, every move you make is just..."
"Fluid?" I finish his sentence for him, to which he returns with a big nod.
Truth be told, this isn't the first time I've heard my fighting style described like that. Midna had a similar complaint about watching me fight in my Hylian form, as she much prefers my straightforward approach as a wolf instead. I haven't particularly developed a preference for either form, since each one has its benefits. It is, however, much easier to get around in wolf form.
"A battle is an exchange, Hiccup. If you try to rush in without responding to your enemy, you're gambling everything on your own strength. At the same time, you can't be too passive when reacting or else you just give your opponent too much room to work with. So..." I push off the bed and onto my feet for the first time since we've begun talking. Hiccup looks up at me in confusion, but I ignore his expression and gesture for him to get up off from the crate. He complies, albeit warily.
"Let me show you. Try and hit me."
"What?" He spits out incredulously.
"Come on, you'll see in a moment." I put my hands at my hips, making my very posture inviting to an attack.
Hiccup's still noticeably bothered by the idea of trying to fight me, but he balls up his hands into fists and takes stance anyways. It's a weak looking stance with little grounding, but that's not the point of the exercise.
After some moments of posturing, he decides to throw a punch. It's weak, but it's direct and serves the intended purpose. I block the punch lazily with my forearm and allow Hiccup a moment to recover before returning the punch with a light one of my own. I make sure to match the pace of Hiccup's own punch for the sake of the practice, and just as I hoped, he threw up his frail arms with plenty of time to block the "hit."
"That's me being too passive."
I pull back my hand and gesture for him to strike again. The moment I see him move his arm to punch again, I move in on him myself at the same pace I did last time. I partially expected him to draw back, but I assume his knowledge of this being an exercise allowed him the confidence to continue without worry. With neither of us retreating, our knuckles meet their targets, his small hand being pressed against my stomach with mine being lightly rested on his shoulder.
"Too aggressive. Much too predictable at that."
This is the last time. We both return to our resting positions and I make one last gesture for Hiccup to strike. This time, I decide to shift slightly from side to side in an almost floaty manner. Hiccup tracks my movement with his eyes for a few seconds before moving in to attack. Once again, he punches with the same hand as the previous two times. Rather than block the punch, I carry it away from my body with the outer part of my forearm. I carry my free hand towards Hiccup's stomach while his own arm is out at his side, still recovering from the "parry."
"That is the exchange." My fist is stopped mere hairs from his stomach, no doubt filling him with some sense of nervousness.
"I uh, I don't get it."
"The first time I let you attack while I just stood there. It gives you more time to think about what you want to do, and what your next response to me should be."
"Don't... you have that same amount of time, though?"
"I do. The difference is, though..." I hold my hand out in a fist next to his cheek, leaving it there. He looks back at me for a moment before slowly lifting his hand to push it away. I grab his hand with the same one near his face the moment I see him move towards it. Wrapped up in the exercise, and probably having learned a little bit from the last couple examples, he aims another strike at me with his free hand. Catching the small fist with my own free hand, I've left the boy immobilized, and more importantly, in my grasp.
"You still have to react to what I do. If both sides have this much time to think about what they're going to do, you don't want to be the one defending unless you're sure you can counterattack." Still holding his fists, I raise the hand that he used to throw the second punch. "And you're sure that you can do it properly."
I let go of Hiccup's hands and step back while he rubs at his knuckles absentmindedly. "The second time I let you attack was less of an exchange and more of a trade. When two enemies are so wrapped up in attacking first, both of them leave themselves wide open."
"Well, I'm sure you'll find that's more the viking way." He pretends to flex his muscles this time, eliciting another light chuckle from me.
"The third time was the real dance. It looked a lot like the first time, but what looked different to you?"
"For one, you were doing that weird side-to-side thing." The kid's blunt, that's for sure.
"That's one. When you keep moving, no matter how slight, it means your opponent can't just make an obvious attack. The second part is the fact that instead of blocking your attack, I moved it away. And suddenly..." I take hold of his wrist and move it away from his body to around the same place it was before. "Your body is open."
Hiccup looks back at his own arm for a moment, then to his chest area. Finally, his eyes find their way back onto me. "But you're still reacting."
I let go of his wrist and sit back down on the bed, my lesson all but concluded. At least the example portion of it is. "I am. But instead of just taking whatever attack you have head on, I have more options this way. It's all about momentum, Hiccup. When you stay moving, there's no awkward transition from defense to offence. If I dodge, I can use that same momentum to attack your side. If I parry, I can use your momentum to lead you right into an attack. When you block, you're making a decision to give up all of your momentum and hope that it stops theirs."
"Right, well," Following my lead, Hiccup walks back over to his spot on an empty crate, smoothing out his clothes first. "I'm not sure how much dragons will follow that momentum, but-" Cutting him short, the crate finally gives out from under him, the top breaking away and planting Hiccup right into the middle of the empty box.
Honestly, I expected this to happen, but it doesn't make it any less funny. I at least try to spare him the rudeness of laughing aloud, allowing only a smile to be visible.
He quickly gets up off the remains of the crate and brushes off his clothes, standing up straight as if nothing happened. I can see a tinge of pink flushing his cheeks as he clears his breath and begins speaking again. "B-But," Ah, he stuttered. "I uh, appreciate the lesson."
"Of course."
"Well, I should be going. Y'know, got a big day to prepare for tomorrow." Hiccups turns towards the door and begins taking exaggerated steps, swinging his arms as he walks.
The topic I tried to stay away from ironically ends up being the very thing that our conversation ends on. I still have so much more I want to find out, but pressing the subject onto Hiccup feels unfair. He himself doesn't look too pleased in the slightest to be training on how to kill dragons, so I can only assume that he failed to convince his dad otherwise. I suppose in some ways, this is inevitable. And yet...
I watch Hiccup as he walks away, his enthusiasm being visibly drained with each step he takes. By the time he's out the door, it looks as if he's been forced away from his safe haven and cast into something he's simply expected to do. I close my eyes and let out a heavy sigh before calling out to him.
"Hiccup." He turns back to face me with a somewhat confused look on his face. Again, I get up from the soft bed and walk over to him through the massive door. "Take me with you to dragon training."
He blinks several times before even beginning to process what I said, his mouth left agape as the bewildered boy tries to form words. After some seconds of half vocalizations, he manages to spit out a simple question. "What?"
"You don't want to do this, that much I can tell. I don't have the authority to get you out of it, but I can at least make the experience less painful." Both literally and figuratively, I'm hoping.
"Look, Link, I know that you're really good at fighting, but-"
"You don't want to kill dragons." I cut him off in a slightly hushed tone. "I gathered that. It's not the fighting I'm trying to help you with."
"So what are you trying to help me with?" His words are harsh and jaded, but the tone beneath them is just laced with discomfort and a twinge of fear. Poor kid. I can't bring myself to be mad at his father for pushing him into this, but I have zero intention to leave him alone to something he doesn't want to do either.
"I'll be honest, Hiccup. I don't know anything about dragons. I don't know anything about Berk. All I know how to do is fight. But you can do more than that. You saw that dragon back there as more than just another enemy, didn't you?" Hiccup's not incredibly short, but he's still a whole head shorter than me and then some. I kneel down a bit and place my hands on his shoulders, my blue eyes level with his green ones.
"If you don't want to fight dragons, understand them, Hiccup. It's not being a coward, it's being kind. And if I can help you figure out how to deal with dragons without killing them, then by all means..." I take my left hand off his shoulder and hold his right hand in it instead. The Triforce glows ever so faintly, and for a moment it feels as if it's warming my hand against the chill of the night.
"I want to carry you to that goal."
Just who am I protecting right now? This village? The dragons?
Or is it all just for this frail boy in front of me?
I don't particularly care either way. I made up my mind earlier in that I would protect the village. That goal has yet to change, only the method I've chosen to go about it in. I could hack and carve my way through every dragon in this area, but it wouldn't solve a thing, not if they can all think and fear like I've come to suspect.
Perhaps they follow the strongest side, like the Bulblins. Perhaps they have some brutal history with the vikings that make them act this way. Or maybe they're simply capable of the same evil that us people are. I honestly don't have a clue, but if there's still a way around cutting my way through the problem, I'll gladly take it.
So I'll stake my chances on this one meek boy, if only for the value of that very quality. The one boy that I've come across that goes against the grain, both in body and ideals.
He looks back at me, eyes trembling slightly. He closes his mouth and looks down, but I don't make an attempt to get his attention again. It's important that he makes this decision of his own accord.
After a silence that feels like an eternity, he looks back up at me with a wry smile on his face. "I guess we'll have to talk to Gobber in the morning, won't we?"
I stare back at him for a moment, slightly surprised by the chipper tone of his answer. Still though, my happiness over his response gets the better of me, and I can't help but start laughing with a bright smile.
