Chapter Dos: Coming your way. I got asked a question the other day by a friend who was reading this. They wanted to know what why I made Aryll's eyes gray. The answer is! Cause I couldn't find a set eye color for her anywhere. The official illustrations had them as black, fanworks had them green or blue, one person even put them as brown. So I figured gray was a good medium between all of them.
Disclaimer remains the same; Also, I know the plot is weird with Aryll being a thief and all, but seriously bear with me till at least chapter 5~ Things start picking up by then.
Anyway, I forgot to put in the thing about reviews in the first chapter: I take all Reviews, Flames, good, bad, constructive criticism, everything. So long as I know people are reading my stories, I don't care what type of messages I get :]
Unnecessary Lectures
"You'll come back, won't you? I can't stay with Gran-Gran forever." Aryll reached forward, grabbing her older brother's tough, calloused hands with her own small ones. As if it were nothing at all, his fingers wrapped around her palms, encompassing them entirely. Only a few years apart and he was already so much taller than she was…so much braver…and so much stronger…
Link smiled warmly, giving Aryll's hands a quick, reassuring squeeze. "Of course! The moment we find the new land, I swear I'll be on the first ship home. I'll even send you a letter every week, okay?"
Aryll swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, remembering everything that had happened in the last few months. Her entire world had been thrown into chaos – a disaster that had led her older brother down a path he could not return. He had outgrown the tiny rock they had for so long called home – the exact same way he had outgrown her tiny hands. Gripping back she locked her eyes onto his distant gaze, trying desperately to ensure his safe return. "What if I get in trouble again? You'll come back to help me, right? Even if you haven't found anything?"
"Hey!" Link grinned, puffing his chest out in an attempt to make himself look stronger than he actually was. "Who do you think you're talking to? I'm the great Link! I'd never abandon my family in need. Don't worry, Aryll. I'll be back so soon you won't even realize I'm gone"
Standing there on the dock, she felt his hands loosen their embrace and slide from her weak grasp. Aryll let the wind sweep through her parted hair, carrying with it the scent of the tropics – a heavy aroma of flowers and salted beaches. At that time, as she watched her older brother board the pirate ship bound for a new, strange land, her nine year-old mind really did believe in his promise. He'd be back just as she was starting to miss him. The sails had barely unfurled before she was already dreaming of his homecoming, his face aglow and head filled with brand new stories of adventure, a souvenir for her and Gran-Gran grasped firmly in his hands and a pledge to never wander off again. A month, maybe less and that scene would play out before her, exactly as she had imagined it…after all…He'd promised….
Snapping her eyes open, Aryll bolted upright in her bed, a cold sweat running down her entire shaking body. She bowed her head, trying to control her breathing as she untangled herself from the mass of twisted covers. Stupid dream. Stupid thoughts. She hated it when her mind took her down memory lane. She already decided to cast away her past, so there wasn't any need to dredge up stupid moments such as that one. With a groan, she finally managed to throw her covers off and onto the wooden floor of the slowly rocking ship as she fell back against her pillow.
Based upon the lighting in her small cramped room, she guesstimated that it was nearing the afternoon hours. That meant she had gotten a total of four hours of sleep since she had returned from last night's graveyard extravaganza. Flicking her blonde hair back out from her eyes, she slung her right arm over her face to block out the intruding light. Just a bit more sleep, that's all she needed.
"HEY ARYLL!!!" With a loud crack, her door flew open, nearly breaking free from its hinges as it smashed against her wall.
Despite such a rude, sudden interruption to her slumber, Aryll didn't actually move from where she laid. Instead, she simply opened one eye into a teeny slit to stare at the doorway. There stood a young teenager, grinning a large smile, too wide for his ashen and narrow face. His pale features greatly contrasted with the shock white mess of hair that fell in a disarrayed halo over his bright red eyes. A Sheikah. And her favorite one at that.
Aryll never even knew they had existed until just a few years ago. But then again, if there were odd races such as the Rito and the Goron traders, wouldn't they have the right to exist as well? They were a secretive race that had lived for years undetected on a desert island located deep in the southern ocean regions. According to their legends, they had once served the royal family of Hyrule, acting as bodyguards and assassins for the King and Queen. Their greatest boast was that they had even had a hand in helping to destroy a giant monster that slithered out of the Gerudo race. Now they were living side by side with them, forming a perfect community of thieves, pirates, assassins and obsessive gamblers. Oh, how they mighty have fallen.
Aryll, who was only ever exposed to an extremely limited number of Hylians had found both these peoples to be strange, but the Gerudo in particular had peaked her interest. The odd thing about them was that they were, for the most part, an all female race. Male birthrates were extremely low to begin with, and it didn't help that the male population was subject to a genetic disorder to which the females were immune. It left affected infants extremely weak at birth, making the survival rate of newborn boys even more dismal than they already were. If she had to guess, Aryll would say that only fifteen percent of the people on the island were male Gerudos. Together with the Sheikah, they made a thriving nation. Stupid Link, how could he have missed them on his worldly voyage? Then again, how could he have missed the eight dozen letters she had sent him, begging for help?
"Nic…What do you want?" She grumbled in a still half asleep stupor.
"Aw, you're no fun. Miss Beakless jumped all the way up to the ceiling and then clung to it like a cat when I woke her up." The Sheikah, now known as Nic, stretched his already too large grin even further as he said this in his boyish, accented voice. "By the way! I heard that you smelled so bad when you came on board last night, that the boss actually threw you off the ship to soak the stench off. Now come on, be honest, did that actually happen?"
"Still didn't answer my question. It had better be good 'cause I'm in a bad mood."
Nic puckered his bottom lip, looking thoroughly disappointed."Hmph, calm down. Yeesh, what did you have a bad dream again?"
"Nic…."
"Okay, Okay!" He held up his hands to signal his defeat on the matter when he got her coming glare. "I, the amazingly glorious Nic, have been sent on a special mission, because you know I am quite glorious-"
"Get to the point."
Nic sighed, his grin finally fading. Aryll just never had a sense of humor anymore. She did when she first arrived, but over the years it was as if a mosquito had sucked it dry. "The boss wants you."
Aryll frowned. There goes any and all hope of getting at least half the recommended hours of sleep. Scrambling out from her bed, she didn't even bother to change out from her slightly torn, and oddly enough, singed gray pajamas, but simply padded barefoot from the room after Nic.
After several moments of an awkward silence, Nic glanced back at Aryll, letting out a low whistle. "Your hair looks wonderful today, kind of like a bunch of dead palm leaves sticking out of the sand, you know?"
"And your old man hair is as combed as ever, Nic," Aryll grumbled in reply, self-consciously threading her fingers through her hair in a poor attempt to comb it. She could recall years ago when she had been frantic about her appearance, refusing to come out of her room unless she was fully dressed and wearing something girly and blue. Of course, she considered that to be a part of her that she had stuffed in a duffle bag and sold to a seedy looking merchant for half a rupee after she had spent three days with Nic, Suri and Rico, her reject group of short-bus training partners.
"There we go! That's my Aryll." He laughed, grinding his fist into her recently straightened hair to muss it up again. "OOOH! That reminds me! I, the amazing Nic (Oh, and Suri), stole the greatest loot ever!"
Aryll frowned, letting her eyes drift to the side. Nic's energy was just too much in the morning, thank God Suri wasn't here with him. That'd just make things oh so much wors-
"That's Right!"
And all of Aryll's hopes for a normal morning were suddenly dashed into a thousand tiny shards, as a coffee colored hand joined in with Nic's to mess her hair up even more.
"Yeeeaaah Ahahaa! We made ten grand last night! Which means one grand for each of us!" A redheaded woman had appeared at Nic's side. Her skin looked incredibly dark next to Nic's pale pallor. It was like a clash of two cultures, one desert like and bubbling with life, the other as shadowy and near death as Charon of the River Styx. Suri twirled her long, slender fingers through her burgundy locks , the thick strands pulled into a ponytail that fell smoothly down her back and towards her waist. "How much did the world's one and only Outset Islander make, huh?"
Breathing in deeply, Aryll took a moment to steady herself, reminding her ever tired mind that Suri and Nic were different, and didn't function like normal, sane people would after only a few hours of sleep (Not that they really ever acted normal). She mumbled her response out of the side of her mouth, avoiding direct eye contact with the two oddities before her. "Royal's Amulet."
"Eh? What was that?" The Sheikah-Gerudo duo spoke at the same time as leaned in closer to Aryll, craning their heads.
"Royal's Amulet." Aryll repeated, continuing to walk down the hall of the cramped ship.
"….WHAT!?"
For a good long minute, Suri and Nic simply gawked at Aryll. And then as if something snapped in their fragile and simple little minds, they suddenly whirled away from her to huddle themselves in a corner of the hallway, they're backs turned as if to create a wall between them and the tired Ayrll.
"Hey, that's impossible, right?" Suri muttered to Nic, cupping her hand over the side of her mouth like that would prevent the Hylian from hearing their conversation.
"Yes, yes, completely impossible." Nic whispered back, imitating Suri's hunched over mouth cupped pose to perfection. How did they do that?
"Right, 'cause the amulet went missing fifty years ago," Suri hissed back.
"Never to be found again as they say."
"Never, ever, especially since there isn't any way a scrawny little Outsetter could out thieve us." Suri nodded her head as she said this, looking as if she had just pointed out something as important the truth behind the dinosaur's disappearance.
"I can hear you, ya know…" Aryll sighed, massaging her temples in irritation.
"CanNOT!" Nic called back before he turned his ADD mind back to Suri. "Exactly, which means…"
"Which means that…" Suri's eyes suspiciously drifted back to Aryll before snapping over to Nic once more. What was she even suspicious about?
Their expressions hardening into that of a serious pair of private-eyes, Nic and Suri pivoted around to Aryll so quickly that their ridiculous movements were almost untraceable. "Which means!" They chimed in unison, as they jutted their index fingers at her accusingly "that you are a liar!"
"Ah…." Was all Aryll said as her eyes closed to half-mass. So that was their conclusion? "S'not that hard actually," she slurred sleepily, "If you really think about it, the location of the amulet is pretty simple. The late king adored his youngest son even more so that the crowned prince. But, the son was extremely ill and weak all the time. To ease his son's so called pain, the king gave him the amulet as a gift. There isn't a picture out there of the son that doesn't show him wearing the thing around his neck. When the son eventually died, the king slipped the amulet into his coffin, secretly giving up the family treasure for that which he cared for most." Aryll leaned casually against the wall of the ship before continuing her explanation.
"Since the son was the youngest of thirteen other brothers, and thus last in line, his funeral was a small, private affair held only amongst the close royal family. So his burial site has always been a mystery to the general public. As a matter of fact, the citizens of his kingdom didn't even know the son had died until a week after the funeral. Not that they really cared, it was always common practice that the youngest in the family be cast aside when it comes to the public eye. They only ever care for the crowned prince and current King and Queen…" She let her voice trail off for a moment, quietly considering what kind affect this sort of system had on her tiny island of assassins and their bank accounts. No doubt a family of politicians hidden away from the public eye could make use of her merry little band of thieves (which may explain their current leader's wealth). Snapping her mind back to the subject at hand, she continued on. "Anyway, after some research; I discovered a civilian's cemetery with three armed grave keepers. Naturally, this caught my eye. Graveyards almost always have just one, two at most. But this had three armed ones, so I looked into it.
"A few weeks in the library and it all made sense. The King would, of course, only entrust a few select people with his favorite son's grave location. You know, out of fear that grave robbers would pillage his tomb. Posting too many guards also would bring unnecessary attention to the site as well. So it was blatantly obvious that that was where the amulet would be. And then, once you get past the three guards, and the hidden fourth one that was actually inside the tomb, getting the amulet is a cinch."
Aryll's detailed and well thought out explanation was rewarded with a dumbfounded stare from the Sheikah-Gerudo partners. Walking up to them, she smiled sweetly and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "Don't worry though, since I'm still in debt to the boss, Rico and I won't be getting the one hundred grand cut we should have received. Plus I'm certain that you would've eventually figured it out on your own." Giving them a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder once again, she walked on ahead of them, whistling a merry tune to herself.
Aryll continued down the hall on her own, listening to the incoherent babble from Nic and Suri. She'd known them for over six years, ever since they were about thirteen. Her ten-year-old mind, already exhausted from culture shock and two near-death experiences, could barely keep up with their flamboyant personalities. Over time, however, she had adjusted and even (dare she say?), started to like them. Of course, that didn't mean that they still didn't exhaust her from time to time.
Reaching the end of the hall, she stood in front of a thick door. Her calloused hand reached for the brass knob, hovering for a moment over its dark green, ornate carvings. Aryll would be lying if she said she wasn't reluctant to see the boss. Her relationship with Commander Isra had been…less than stellar the last couple of years. Isra hadn't been impressed Aryll at all in her younger years, and whatever standing she had gained was sent crashing down in flames of unredeemable failure when she and Rico were fourteen. While most leaders would be beyond impressed with last night's steal, Aryll would be lucky to leave with so much as a "good job." In fact, she was more likely to get chewed out for letting that fourth guard get the best of her.
Taking a steadying breath, she rapped on the door three times. Commander Isra's bored voice sounded through the heavy wood, beckoning her to enter. Pulling on the door, she peeked her blonde head in, gray eyes immediately locking onto the large desk at the end of the room. Rico already stood just a little off center, her long silver hair pulled into a sloppy braid. The bags under her eyes and disheveled manner in which she wore her clothing sang a sad tale of her late morning awakening at the hands of Nic and Suri.
Taking her place next to her partner, Aryll stood in a semi-attentive manner before her leader. Commander Isra glanced up from the report she held in her hand, her blood red orbs scanning over the two young thieves before her. She really was everything the leader of the island of Malebolge needed to be. Smart, cunning, strong and filled with an insatiable desire for money, Isra was more than a force to be reckoned with. She had, in her earlier days, pulled of heists that others had only dreamed about – she even turned the tides of looming wars with her assassinations. By the age of twenty-five she had already secured her position as the next leader. At twenty-seven she was already sitting snuggly in the commander's cushioned chair, a sly smile playing on her beautiful features.
Accepting the sluggish salute from Rico and Aryll, Isra let the file fall from her hand, the papers hitting the desk with a dull smacking sound. This was not good. "So," the young woman began, leaning back in her leather chair, "I understand you had a little bit of trouble with the guard count, Aryll." Before she could even answer, the commander stood, her long white locks sweeping out behind her in a brilliant Gerudo styled ponytail. The half-bred woman raised a coffee colored hand and held her chin for a brief, thoughtful moment, as if trying to decide whether or not she was angry with their resident Hylian.
"Well," she continued, "I suppose that's to be expected, after all, your library research could only get you so far. Points for the move with the coffin, though. As for you, Rico," she snapped, suddenly turning on Aryll's partner, "I would have expected better of your scouting skills, especially since you don't have a ridiculous beak getting in the way of your line of sight." Rico flinched, her slender human nose reddening in embarrassment. Being a half-breed wasn't always a good thing…
Before Aryll could even flash her a look of sympathy, Commander Isra rounded back on her, a sudden angry look overtaking her features. "Of course, she managed to stay out of harm's way. You on the other hand, Aryll, failed to make your heist in complete silence. Word of the missing amulet has no doubt already reached the royal family's ears. I'll have to wait a good three years before I can even consider selling this thing on the black market." Isra finished her rant by slamming her open palm onto the desk, leaning in towards the nervous looking duo.
"W-well," Rico broke in, "you could use it for trade value, you know? You know, use it to help seal a contract or something?"
"I might as well melt it down and scrap it if I'm going to make a stupid move like that," Isra spat back, "Selling it openly would put me at less risk for being traced to its theft. There's no client or contractor alive that I would trust with that sort of dirt." She narrowed her glowing orbs, locking them on Aryll, who was doing her absolute best to direct her gaze towards the suddenly fascinating floor. "Are you taking this seriously, Aryll?"
"Of course I am," she responded in a tired voice, "look, there was no way around it. We both came back in one piece, so just go ahead and hang onto it for a couple more years and then try selling it. We'll eat whatever interest you want."
Isra laughed aloud. "Interest? I suppose I can do something like that. After all, what's another two years of putting up with you two, screwing up every important heist I give you?"
"With all due respect, ma'am, you aren't giving us nearly enough credit," Aryll cut in, her voice suddenly sharp with irritation, "if that were the case, we'd be long dead. We've simply had a few slip ups in the last couple of years. Give us another chance and we'll land something worthwhile. Maybe give us some back up next ti – "
"The last time I gave you back up they came back in a box!" The commander stopped short at the sight of Aryll's expression. In a rare moment of regret, she breathed a low sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Look, Aryll…just be more careful on the next job, alright? If you need back up, I'll send Nic and Suri in next time. How does that sound?"
Aryll was quiet for some time, her mind and heart miles away and three years buried in the sands of yesterday. "…Alright...Commander…"
"We are heading for home base now to restock and resupply. You will get your next heist then…Dismissed," Isra said wearily as she sat back in her chair. Aryll turned, Rico following uneasily in her wake as they headed towards the door. Her hand had barely grasped its metal knob before she was stopped once more. "And Aryll…I'm sorry." Without responding, she opened the door and stepped out into the dark hall.