A/N: Hope you enjoy!
~~Ashes~~
"If injury is done to a man, it shoulder be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared."
- Machiavelli
xxx
I open my eyes groggily. Firelight flickers across the wall. I can hear laughter nearby. I try and sit up, but a crushing weight pins me to the ground.
"Val, he's awake." It is my father's voice. In the dim light I see my parents leaning over my crib. My father tickles me under the chin. A small gurgle escapes my throat.
"Shhh, my love." My mother smiles warmly. She reaches inside the crib and scoops me up, cradling me softly. "Everything's going to be okay. Mummy's here."
The warmth of the fire burning in the nearby hearth is comforting. I know that in her arms no harm can come to me. I drift back into a deep sleep, Ashlocke hall fading into the darkness.
xxx
"Link!" a young girl screams.
My eyes snap open, surprised. Bright eyes are peering down at me from far above.
"Link, are you okay?" she calls. Concern is written all over Sylph's face. "Link!"
I hear footsteps running on the boards above. "Syl, what's wrong?" It's Sir Pyrice.
"Link and I were playing and he fell through the floor!"
I try to call out, but I choke on the words. The stone floor beneath me is surprisingly warm. Uncomfortably warm. Smoke is rising all around me.
Sylph's cries are distant now, and muted. The smoke has blocked her from sight. It is hard to breathe.
I try to call her name, but the smoke rushes down my throat like a black cloud and I pass out.
xxx
It's so hot.
"Link come and join us for lunch!" Ilia's voice is high and carefree.
"I-I can't, hel-" My words disintegrate into coughing. The air is heavy and hot. I open my eyes, but everything is blurry. The smoke stings my eyes, but in the dim light I can make out the forge. I must have passed out.
"Link, hurry up silly! We're all waiting for you!"
Flames have spread from the forge to the entire smithy. I see the fire rush towards me.
"No," I call weakly. "Help, help me! Plea-" but I choke on the smoke again. I try to sit up, to flee, but I'm paralyzed. The fire consumes me.
xxx
Someone is screaming. The sound is raw and primal; it splits the night like an ax.
It takes me a moment, but I realize it's me. Fire is everywhere; the entire field of Nazgar is alight. My chest feels like it has caved in.
The bulbo is still on my chest. Tears stream from my eyes, but I cannot tell if they are from the smoke or the pain. Perhaps this is just another vision, but the pain tells me it is real.
My breathing is ragged and quick. With a feeble push I try and heave the bulbo that pins me to the ground. It does not budge. I try again, but it is no use.
The smoke is so thick my mind is already spinning; it would be so easy to just slip back into unconsciousness. Right here, right now, I don't care anymore. I just want this pain to stop. I go limp and close my eyes, the heat helping ease the passage to the blackness.
Life is so fleeting. What is there but pain? Does of any it really matter?
My parent's faces flash in my mind, and Sylph's. Lady Alice, Sir Pyrice, Axel, Rusl, Ilia, Lyn, Colin. I realize now why they were so prominent in my dreams, and I know I want to see them again. I open my eyes, and with renewed vigor try and heave the bulbo from my chest.
The flames are starting to close in.
The bulbo doesn't move at all. But I try again. And again. And again, and again, and again.
The flames lick at my right arm. I feel the skin starting to blister and I reflexively bite down on my bottom lip. I bite so hard it draws blood.
I put all my remaining strength into my efforts. And finally, it moves, just a little. I heave again, and it moves a little more.
It feels like the flesh is melting off my arm. I have to escape this agony, I can't take it. With a bellow that's more scream than roar, and a surge of strength driven by pain, I roll the boar off me with a final push. Immediately I backpedal away from the flames like a panicked beast, my arm burnt and blackened. There is a great crack and a tall oak wreathed in flame topples down, crushing what was left of the bulbo. Not a moment too soon.
There's no time to lose. I gain my feet, clutching my burned arm to my chest. I stagger through the burning field, avoiding the blaze as best I can. The smoke is a poison fog covering everything; each breath burns in my lungs and brings tears to my eyes. My vision is blurry and my head is spinning. My foot catches on something and a fall to the ground.
I break some of the fall with my left arm, but I still hit the ground pretty hard. Pain blossoms from my chest and I gasp, drawing ragged breaths, each more painful than the last. I smell something overpowering, fetid and sickly sweet mixed with the smell of burnt meat. I slowly turn with mounting unease, to see what I tripped on. My eyes widen and I recoil in horror and revulsion.
There is a body on the ground behind me, completely unrecognizable, the features burned away. It's splayed out on the ground, the fingers curled into the dirt as if the person was clawing at the soil. This was my coming of age ceremony. I probably knew this person. This is my fault. I lean over and retch, spewing the contents of my stomach over the ground, mostly phlegm. I need to get away from here.
Gaining my feet, I run until I can't run anymore. Finally my legs can't support me any longer and I stumble, collapsing in a heap near the field's edge.
I curl up in a ball as sobs rack my body.
xxx
I don't know how long I lay there, but when I finally push myself to my feet much of the flaming field has burned low. I'm in a bad way, all I want to do is stay here and sleep. I can't, though. The city will be in disarray, and I doubt anyone even knows I'm alive.
Clenching my jaw, I push myself to my feet. I look down at arm. It's charred and blackened, oozing a clear liquid. It smells like the body on the field. I close my eyes and I see it clearly, as if it was seared into my eyelids. I'm overcome by nausea again and dry heave.
But I have to move, get to safety, to my family. I lurch forward on unsteady legs. I can see the edge of Ordon City.
I try and run down what happened in my head, but it's all a blur. The last thing I remember was the bulbo landing on my chest and three figures. It had to be twili ... who else could be capable of such brutality, and why?
But I'm too tired to puzzle it over anymore. My eyelids droop. and all sensation has faded from my body. I go to take another step, only my leg doesn't respond. I fall to me knees, then slowly fall sideways. I roll onto my back, staring up at the night sky through weary eyes. A wave of calm washes over me and I fade back into oblivion.
xxx
I wake up alone. It's still dark.
I take a breath and immediately start coughing. A thin layer of ash covers me.
My chest aches as I sit up. I shake my head and a small cloud of ash flies free from my hair. I prop myself up with my left arm and gain my feet. I feel pretty shaky but I have enough energy to walk.
Every time my chest expands with a breath the pain blooms. I clutch my rib cage with my left arm, trying to stop the pain. I take a step, but vertigo overwhelms me momentarily. After a few moments it passes, and I take another shaky step forward. The vertigo returns, but it has lessened. Before long I have begun a wobbly gait towards the city.
The minutes tick by very slowly. I try and run over what happened in my head, but all I see is the body, blackened and burning. The image is so vivid that I bend over and retch, but there is nothing in my stomach left to vomit. The gagging inflames the pain in my chest, but after a few seconds it fades back to a dull ache.
Looking back, I can see smoke is still rising from the forest. The sun is starting to rise on the horizon. In front, the western edge of Ordon City looms.
Knocking on the first door I can find, I lean against the door frame. There is no answer. I move on to the next house, and the next, but there is no answer. I cross my fingers that the people of these houses merely ran or were evacuated. The alternative is too terrible to consider.
The Clearwater household lies just outside the outskirts of Ordon City's southern edge. I need to know they are safe. I have to make it there.
It takes me the better part of the morning for me to make my way around the city's outskirts. At long last, however, I see the outline of my home in the distance. Despite the pain I crack a small smile.
Quite a few more minutes passed before I finally made it to the doorstep, but with my goal in sight my pace quickened twofold. Adrenaline flooded through my veins and the pain was pushed aside. Home stretch.
Finally I'm climbing the steps to the door. Relief floods me as I reach for the door, only to find it locked. I knock, but there is no reply.
"Axel?" I call weakly. "Aunt Lyn?" I knocked again.
The door swings open, revealing a disheveled Aunt Lyn. Her eyes were red and puffy.
"Link?" she says, apparently in shock. She's staring at me like I'm a ghost.
"In the flesh," I say with a tired smile.
"Goddesses, it's you!" She beams. "Lincoln Ashlocke, I have never been so happy to see you. We thought- well, we thought-" She blinks away a tear. "I'm so happy you're alive."
"You and me both," I groan. Axel appears at the door behind her. He has the same haggard look as Lyn.
"Thank the goddesses, come in," he says in a hoarse voice, beckoning me inside. He closes the door behind me and bars it with a deadbolt. "We all thought—" his eyes spot my arm. "You're hurt."
"Just a few ... scrapes and bruises," I manage, shuffling to the chesterfield and collapsing on it.
Lyn kneels next to me and takes my left hand. "Just rest for now. I'll bring you some water."
"But I'm getting soot and dirt all over the chesterfield," I joke wearily.
A few more tears come to Lyn's eyes and she smiles weakly. "The price of comfort."
Axel sits down on a chair nearby.
"What happened?" I ask. "It all happened so fast."
He avoids my gaze, staring into the corner with a hollow expression.
"What is it?" I ask, concerned. I can see his hand shaking. "Axel, what's wrong?"
Lyn returns with a mug full of water. "Drink," she says, putting the mug to my lips. The cool water tastes like the sweetest nectar after my odyssey.
Suddenly I am uncomfortably aware of something. "Where's Ilia?"
Silence greets my question.
"Where is she?" I press urgently. "Where's Ilia?"
They took her," Axel blurts, still not meeting my gaze. "Those bastards, they-they took her away." He covers his eyes with his palm. I can hear him breathing deeply.
"No," I whisper in disbelief. "No, they can't have."
Axel looks me right in the eye. "They killed people, I don't know how many," he says quickly. "They looted the homes near the outskirts. And — and they took — they took ..." he trails off and swallows.
"They took other children from the village," Lyn finishes for him, placing her hand on his shoulder. He reaches up and squeezes it. I feel winded. How could they? Lyn is struggling to retain her composure, but Axel is openly weeping, trying to stifle his sobs. I've never seen him like this. I feel my hands clench into fists.
"We just have to stay strong, the city guard went after them," comforts Lyn. Her voice is a little shaky and I can tell she's trying to allay her own fears as well as ours. "We'll get her back. We'll get her back." I see her look upward and mouth a silent prayer to the goddesses.
I feel a burning in my gut. A fire waking. "I won't let this happen." I stand up, ignoring the pain in my chest. My legs are shaky but I'll find away. I won't let anything happen to Ilia.
"Link, you need to rest," Lyn directs me gently. "You're going to hurt yourself."
"No, there isn't time," I growl. "I have to go after them."
"Rusl's out there scouring the forest," Axel murmurs. "We have to trust him. We have to."
"But—"
"Lincoln Ashlocke, you listen to me," Lyn says sharply, putting her hands on her hips. "I thought I'd lost you and you are not disappearing again so easily. You are going to lie down and rest, and if you and try to go anywhere, you're going to have to go through me."
I'm seething, but not at her. "Fine," I acquiesce, lying back down.
She relaxes and gives me a weak smile. "That's better. Get some sleep chickpea." She used to call me chickpea when I was younger. It's somehow comforting now, and I relax a little.
How could things go from normal to, well, this, so quickly. Yesterday I was just worried about my coming of age ceremony. Worried about making my first sword just right, worried about living up to Rusl's expectations, about living up to Evelyn's.
Now the worries of yesterday are merely ashes, consumed by the fire and scattered upon the wind.
My eyelids feel like they weigh a ton, and I feel sleep calling to me. I don't have the will to resist any longer and I let the relief wash over me.
xxx
The sounds of a heated discussion woke me up. Blinking the sleep away blearily, the first thing I noticed was that I was shirtless. A tight bandage is wrapped around my chest, a splotchy purple bruise only just poking out from underneath. Must have broken some ribs. A cool poultice also covers my right arm.
"You're awake." I look over to see Evelyn smiling at me. She has a scrape on her cheek and her hair is matted and disheveled, but compared to me she looks radiant.
"Yeah," I say, smiling back. She leans down and kisses me deeply. I bury a hand in her hair and pull her closer. When our lips finally part, she rests her forehead against mine gently.
"Some birthday," she breathes.
"Yeah," I repeat with a sigh. "Didn't go exactly the way I envisioned it."
She looks at me with sympathy. "I'm so sorry about your sister."
The argument in the background grows more intense. "What's going on?" I ask, changing the topic from Ilia.
"The guards came back," she said quietly. "They didn't catch anyone."
"Your family is fine?" I ask slowly.
"Thank the goddesses, yes." She cups my cheek delicately. "I'm so sorry," she repeats.
I pull away from the contact, looking away. "I'll make them pay," I vow, pushing myself to my feet.
"You're hurt."
"Very astute," I snap. I feel bad a moment later. "I'm sorry, I'm just so ..." I don't really have any words to describe how I'm feeling.
"I understand," she nods.
"I'm going to go find out what they're talking about," I say, suddenly wanting to get away from her.
"They're in the kitchen," she informs me. "I'm glad you're okay."
"Thanks," I reply, already on my way. I pause around the corner, listening to the argument.
"What exactly do you mean by 'turned back'?" sneers a familiar voice, one that I can't quite place.
"We followed their trail west to the forest's edge," I hear Rusl say in a strained voice. "Beyond that is the Wildlands."
Wildlands. I had heard tales. The original Twilian Empire was far to the south and west, but in between was a massive plain, scorched and barren, where the first wars were fought. Inhabited only by rogues, mercenaries, and bandits, it was an inhospitable wasteland.
"Wildlands," the earlier voice scoffs. "You're captain of the city guard."
"I am well aware," Rusl bristles. "We had to return for supplies and formulate a plan. We can't just go rushing into unfamiliar territory."
"My daughter was kidnapped and you just let them escape?"
"So was my son," Rusl snaps. A loud bang accompanies this, presumably his fist slamming down on the table. This takes me by surprise; Rusl is rare to anger.
I enter the kitchen. There are around twenty people gathered in our kitchen. Rusl stands at end of the table.
Axel spots me first. "Link," he greets eagerly. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got my ass kicked six ways from Sunday," I reply with a feigned grimace. "I guess I did."
"We were all glad to hear you're alive," Rusl remarks. His face is creased with lines of weariness.
"What happened?" I ask. "I blacked out."
"Marauders hit us with a surprise attack during your ceremony," reveals Rusl in a grim voice. "Caught us off guard. They kidnapped seven people, most of them children."
"How many of them were there?"
Everyone is quiet for a moment and Rusl won't meet my gaze.
"There were three," says the belligerent voice I recognized. It's Barou, a heavyset fruit vendor from the village. "They couldn't stop three of those twili scum." His voice is full of disgust. I study Rusl carefully; he's ashamed. I had Rusl's sword for my ceremony though, how much could he have done?
"At least one of them was very skilled with magic," Rusl retorts. "Before we could do anything there was mass panic. Fires everywhere. We had to get as many people to safety as we could."
"They were definitely twili?" asks a thin, reedy looking man that I don't recognize.
"It's possible," Rusl answers carefully. "The amount of humans or hylians that have that level of magical prowess is next to none. It's safe to assume at least one of them was twilian."
I had guessed as much but it's tough to believe the stuff people tell their kids to scare them is actually out there. I remember what Rusl told me about the twili being like us once, but I can feel hatred boiling in my stomach.
"If we had followed them into the Wildlands unprepared it would have been a slaughter," Rusl continues. "Goddesses above, you know I understand what you all feel right now. I promise you we will hunt them down, but it will be on our terms, not theirs. Too many have died already to risk more lives to recklessness.
"I agree, but every second you delay puts them in greater danger," reminded Axel. "We have to act quickly."
"You're right," Rusl agrees. "I've handpicked a small group of men, my best. We'll be leaving in the morning to run them down."
Barou slams his palm on the table. "That's not good enough! You should be out there now, you shoul—"
"I'm going after them," I interrupt quietly. He falls silent.
"Link, you're injured," Rusl begins delicately. "And don't take this the wrong way, but you have no experience with this sort of thing. It's going to be dangerous, not jus—"
"I don't care," I interject again hotly. Rusl holds up a hand to silence me.
"Not just dangerous for you," he continues calmly. "Taking an inexperienced soldier will put the rest of the unit in danger as well."
My cheeks flush. "I can handle myself," I argue. "What have you been training me for?"
"You will go nowhere," Axel says harshly. "Today I thought I'd lost both my children. Even if you weren't injured I would not put you at risk."
For a moment I am taken by surprise. I am touched that he considers me such, but I am also incensed by his attitude.
"But—" I begin.
"No," he cuts me off. "Now go and get some more rest."
I am frustrated, but nonetheless, my decision has already been made. With or without their blessing. And if one more person tells me to rest ...
I do my best to look defeated. "You'll bring her back?" I ask Rusl.
Most of the people in the room look at me with sympathy. Rusl puts his hand on my shoulder and nods. "You have my word."
With that I leave the room, already making plans for tonight.
The night is dark, the only light coming from a small sliver of moonlight. I am already packed.
The house is quiet. I rise from my bed in the loft, careful not to make a sound. I sling my pack over my shoulder, as well as the quiver and bow gifted to me by Colin.
I knot the rope I stole to one of my bed posts. I step up to the window frame, rope in hand. Without hesitation I leap out the window, using the rope to rappel down the side of the house. It is a difficult task with only one good hand, but I will not be denied. Eventually my persistence is rewarded, and I hit the ground without a sound.
I am traveling light. I do not know what became of Rusl's sword on the field of Nazgar, and Axel keeps no blades around the house. All I have is my bow, and my father's dagger. It is a beautiful weapon, forged of the special steel that came out of the mines of Anadyr, but it is a poor trade-off for a sword.
I make my way into the city, taking care not to be seen where I can avoid it. The streets are mostly empty; after the twili bandit attack, people are wary of leaving their homes. This suits me just fine.
My chest is feeling much better. The tight bandages wrapping my chest have set the ribs in place, and keep my breathing from being too painful. The arm is a different story, however. It is starting to scab over, causing a painful itching sensation that drives me crazy.
At least I reach my destination. The stables in the northwest part of the city.
I bend down and pick a blade of horse grass. Blowing softly into one end, I play a tune known only to myself, and Ilia. Ilia. Some of the only real family I have left, once again snatched from me. My heart aches for her. She taught me this song, many years ago.
Hoof beats interrupt my reminiscence. A horse is galloping towards me. Saffron. I have Ilia to thank for her ... but thinking about Ilia is too painful right now. As Saffron reaches me with a soft whinny, I stroke her mane softly with my good hand. I reach into my pack and pull out a few carrots, allowing her to eat them from my hand.
I ruffle her mane again, and saddle her up.
Minutes later I am done, and I hop onto her back.
"Alright my friend," I say to her. "We've got a long way to go and not a lot of time."
She lets out a loud neigh in response.
I close my eyes for a moment, but all I see is the fires of the twili. "Leaving me alive was a mistake. I'm coming for you," I vow.
Saffron lets out another fierce whinny, echoing my sentiment.
With that I nudge her ribs with my boots. She rears up, and we gallop into the night.
I'm coming for you.
Closing Note: Thanks to all the readers who were patient with my lack of posts for the last few months. I know I ended chapter two with a promise of a quick update, then proceeded to wait four months to post number three. Thankfully Wanderlust is already complete and has been for some time ... so though I am reluctant to make another promise about when I will deliver, expect things to be a little more regular.
Thank-you to the readers who left reviews. I thoroughly enjoy reading them and always has me keen to post something new