Much needed character development in this chapter. Sorry for the wait again, there were several things I had to rework because of a small crisis I had with my outline being deleted by mistake. As a result, I have a lot to cover that I didn't think I would originally, hence why this chapter doesn't follow the normal format. Sorry about that.

In other news, (gosh, I say that a lot) last chapter was the all-time high regarding reviews, so thanks for that! I'm really sorry I haven't been replying; I really need to get on that. You will all get lengthy love letters when I can find the time. I promise!

~Alyssa

Nunquam ante de illo intellego, ubi non sequitur abierunt.

….

You will never learn the meaning of someone until they have gone where you cannot follow.

Then

Kakiriko was a place straight from Hell.

Townspeople ran frantically back and forth, shrieking for loved ones and clutching valuables in their arms, tripping over each other in their stampede to escape. Corpses littered the ground, Hylian and monster alike, their bodies mutilated by some sort of claws. And somewhere, as we could see over the tops of the caved-in roofs, a fire was blooming.

Baxter swore, pressing his palms to his eyes as though fighting off some sort of migraine as he came back into the alleyway, positioning his body as if he was trying to shield us from the horrific sight. "It's worse than I thought," he grumbled to himself, taking a long, deep breath before turning to us.

"Listen up," he said, as if he didn't already have our undivided attention. "Right now all we have do is get the Hell out of here in one piece. If something looks suspicious, attack first, ask questions later. A second of hesitation could be the difference between life or death. Don't stop for anything. If we somehow get separated, you know where the rendezvous is."

He paused, going to stand beside Zenith, a slightly appalled look on his face. "And this isn't exactly how we planned on telling you, but we've all got someone else to look after now." He snaked an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close for a short moment.

My eyebrows shot up and Archer began to snicker, even Garrett having a hard time trying to mask his surprise. Zenith's face scrunched up in annoyance, shooting a flat glare at her husband.

"Was now honestly a good time?" she sighed, crossing her arms self consciously over her stomach. "It could have waited until after."

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, reaching to place his hand over hers. "Just giving them some incentive. The more hands we got to protect little guy, the better."

She smirked, elbowing him playfully in the chest as she unsheathed her sword. "What makes you so sure it's a boy?"

Baxter grinned, pulling his blade from its casing as well. "Only a son of mine would cause such an inconvenience before he was even born."

"Wait just one second," said Archer, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm happy for you guys, really, but explain to me how the Hell we're supposed to get out of here?"

For a moment we were silent, until I turned my head to the side, smiling playfully at Linden. "Tell me, who do you think curses the most?" I asked her in my most innocent voice, shooting a pointed glace in Archer's direction.

She snickered and pointed at him, causing him to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Seriously, though. I don't know where the monsters are coming from, but the gates have got to be flooded with people trying to escape into Hyrule Field. That leaves two options; we stay put until things die down a little and the raid runs its course, or we leave the only other possible way, up the mountains."

His crimson eyes hardened as the last words left his lips, his gaze falling upon Death Mountain in the distance.

Death Mountain. The same place he traveled over a decade ago. The same place his parents were murdered.

He took a glance at all our faces, his eyes narrowing. "I'm fine!" he insisted pitifully, but no one's expression changed. "Really," he growled more forcefully. "It's the only way we can go. Don't worry about me."

Baxter sighed, slumping against the alleyway wall. "It's the only way." He confirmed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "But I don't like it."

"I'm over it." Archer said adamantly, forcing a smile. However no matter how hard he tried, the people who knew him best could see right through the façade. His actions proved so.

The way he wouldn't step foot past the gate at the foot of the mountain, some absurd excuse always coming up that conveniently placed him anywhere but there.

They way he cried the night one of his frequently changing girlfriends (Calliope, or something to that effect) broke up with him, claiming he had "no suitable parentage."

The way, after particularly rough days, you could catch him sitting cross-legged on his bunk, quietly talking to the permanent black and white smiles and glossy eyes pinned on the wall.

The way even the mention of the unmentionable mountain brought a layer of impenetrable steel to his eyes and emptiness to his tone.

None of us knew what this trip would do to him, following the road that lead to his parents' death, reliving the memory of watching his mother bleed out right in front of him, leaving him orphaned and alone…

If only there was another way.

"We could always try and get through the gate," I suggested quietly. As far-fetched as the option was, it was preferable to the alternative.

"That's absurd, Nox!" he snapped, glaring at me. "We can't be taking risks like that, not with Linden, not with Zenith in her condition!"

Zenith rolled her eyes, snorting at the excuse. "I'm pregnant, not eighty. I can handle myself." she scoffed, brandishing her sword in example.

Baxter's head snapped up as he heard her, placing a hand on her arm and lowering it. "Oh, no you can't." he said, forcing a laugh. "If I have anything to say about it you'll be sitting on your ass with nothing to do until I know you and the baby are safe."

"I knew you'd be like this," she grumbled, shooting him an annoyed look.

"I'm willing to take the risk," I supplied, and a chirping "Me, too!" came from behind me.

Baxter turned on me then, accusation in his voice as he demanded whether or not I cared for the well being of Zenith, who took the time to yell about him being an overprotective idiot, which prompted Garrett to start droning something about "arguments getting us nowhere" which none of us chose to listen to, until a furious voice rose over ours, shutting us all up instantaneously.

"STOP." Archer roared, placing a hand on both my and Baxter's chest, his eyes glinting dangerously. "You're all being ridiculous. You're fighting over a decision that's already been made. We're going over the mountains, and I swear to Din if anyone says another word about it I'll rip out their throat myself."

"Archer, I-" I tried, but he was in my face faster than I could utter the words, his burning eyes just centimeters from mine.

"Don't. Test. Me." He spat, enunciating each word slowly, his tone promising death.

"The mountains it is," said Baxter faux-cheerfully as he tore Archer away from me and slung him over his shoulder, shooting a smug grin in Zenith's direction.

ox(O)xo

"DON'T PLAY WITH YOUR FOOD, NOX."

I allowed myself a grin, finally severing the head of the Moblin that had thought it a good idea to try and attack Linden from behind, jumping lithely out of the way before its innards could land on my shoes.

"You okay?" I asked of her, kicking aside the corpse and going to rejoin the group, neatly impaling another one of the idiotic monsters who jumped in my way.

"I'm fine," she assured me, though her hold unconsciously tightened.

"You're very brave," I complimented her. "I'm shaking in my boots, Lin. Can't you feel it?"

She giggled, shaking her head.

In all honesty, I was having the time of my life. I'd forgotten how exhilarating the thrill of the battle was. Here, in the middle Hell with all the odds stacked against me, one man against hundreds, was where I belonged. This was my rapture, my ecstasy, what I was made for.

Or perhaps I was just an adrenaline addict.

Either way, I was having the most fun I'd had since Archer and I tricked Garrett to take the enchantment off the front entrance and watching Baxter walk face first into a brick wall.

"You're looking pleasant," Archer noted, nudging me with his elbow. "Something about decapitating Moblins get you going or something?"

Any trace of his earlier episode had completely vanished, letting his normal, easy-going self return. I wanted to tell him that repressing something as terrible as this was not exactly a good idea, but what could I say? 'Archer, stop pretending like you aren't afraid of the place where your parents were murdered. Yeah, we're all going to treat you extra special and act oddly around you because of it, and we have to go up there regardless, but hey, at least admit it to yourself!'

Because that would work out just peachy.

"You know it," I responded easily, putting on a convincing grin. "It's too bad we're almost out of here."

"Yeah," he said halfheartedly, looking up towards the looming summit, something I had yet to find a word to describe in his eyes.

We'd made it through town with little problems, ending the ones that stood in our way. Almost at the foot of the mountain, we had maybe five minutes to go before we were in the clear.

After that, the plan was set. We'd travel over the mountains to Noamas, and find a place to stay in Casperlight City for a month or so, then draw straws to see which of us would have to go back to Kakiriko to see what was left of our home. And then we'd plan from there.

"Anyone want to take care of those?" Baxter asked, pointing towards the alleyway to our left, where a small pack of wolfos were climbing over a pair of bloodied bodies.

"I'll go," I volunteered happily, starting down towards them, my sword already unsheathed. Linden jumped from my back as routine, going to stand beside Zenith.

"Me, too." Archer said, removing the dagger at his hip and poising himself to throw.

The wolfos were easy work, and afterward I caught myself staring at the corpses of the people they killed.

It was a pair of children, a boy and a girl, who couldn't be a day over twelve years old. Although tattered, their clothes were about as fancy as pajamas could get—the girl in a white silk nightgown trimmed with lace (although now spattered with gore, with three neat gashes oozing blood across her chest), the boy in forest green nightclothes, also silk (and also similarly stained with the crimson liquid dripping from his mangled face).

The more I observed them, the sicker I got. I was just about to turn away, back towards our family, when Archer spoke, his voice urgent.

"They're still breathing."

No. That was my reflex reaction. We had too many people to care for as it was, too many mouths to feed, and they were about as useless as it got.

But something about their defenselessness stirred something deep inside, something I hadn't felt since I'd saved Linden all those years ago.

"You take the boy, I'll take the girl," I said, hoisting her up and resting my arms under her knees and neck.

We walked from the alleyway side by side, right into the confused face of none other than Baxter.

"They're still alive. They're only children, Baxter. We couldn't just leave them to die," I explained quickly, desperate like I hadn't been in over a decade.

A peculiar expression crossed his face, a combination between astonishment and fierce pride.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go."

And that was all it took.

Nox, 3.
Death, 0.

ox(O)xo

After a full day of traveling past Goron Village, where the mountains were lush and green, was where Baxter decided to set up camp. We went quickly through the motions, a routine we'd established the many times we were on the run. Archer and I would get the firewood. Linden would set up where we would sleep. Garrett and Baxter would start making a watch schedule. Zenith would try to make something edible from whatever we were able to snag or collect.

Dinner was passed around as we all anxiously awaited the two children to awake from their comatose. Zenith and Garrett had done what they could; bandaging the large gash that went from temple to jaw on the boy's face and the deep claw marks on the girl's chest, using the little red potion we had sparingly to close the wounds.

"If he survives, he's going to have a nice scar." Garrett noted, as his hands wove over and under each other at a steady pace, invisible stitches sewing together the skin of his face. "I've only ever done this once, so it won't be pretty."

He'd done the same to the girl, ignoring Zenith's worrying about the depth of the wound.

"Something internal could have been hit. We won't know until she wakes up." She fretted.

"It won't do her any good if she bleeds to death," he snapped back.

About an hour after that, the girl's eyes finally opened, and Zenith's worst suspicions were confirmed: she was coughing up blood. Her lungs had been damaged, an injury far beyond Garrett's magic or Zenith's healing. She needed magic, a potion perhaps, but the closest healer had fled Kakiriko along with the rest of us. She would have to wait it out until we got to Casperlight, a good two week's journey over the mountains, and if not…well…

It wasn't something I wanted to think about.

Baxter and Zenith volunteered to stay up for the first watch, allowing the rest of us to turn in for the night—or at that point, I suppose morning.

Archer and I laid down on our 'beds', which comprised of a wadded up coat to serve as our pillow and a rough, dirty mantle to protect us from the ground. I accepted it gratefully. After a full day's traveling I was exhausted, and I'd definitely been in worse conditions.

Try falling asleep in the middle of an active volcano.

After a minute or two of restless stirring—the number of comfortable positions was less than nothing when you're lying on the ground in the cold—I decided to lay on my side, listening to the quiet sounds of nature to lull me to sleep.

The chirping of crickets, the croaking of frogs, the sound of a babbling brook…and Linden's voice, cheerfully talking to who could only be the girl we'd saved.

It only took a few moments for curiosity to get the best of me.

Rolling over so I was lying on my stomach, I covered my face with my arms, creating small crack so I could observe the pair, straining my ears so I could listen.

"…We live in this beautiful old house," the ashy blonde girl was saying, smiling gently as she cradled her doll. "In the summer, the gardens are so lovely, with all the flowers and the pond, and the deer. My brother and I always loved to play in them." She paused for a moment, her eyes sad. "It's…it's a shame I won't be able to see them again."

She was a smart girl. Smart enough to come to the only conclusion: Casperlight was simply too far away.

Linden, sweet, naive, innocent little Linden, on the other hand, was not. She was too young, too sheltered to comprehend the fact that not all booboos could be fixed with a bandage and a magic kiss.

"I'm sure you will," She said, her voice so confident it made me hurt for the girl. "Nox just said we have to go away for a while, but we'll go back soon."

She opened her mouth to reply, but began to violently cough again. Once done she spat out a mouthful of blood, a bit beginning to dribble from her nose.

I wonder what it feels like to know that you're dying.

"I used to get nosebleeds all the time," Linden smiled reassuringly. "You just have to pinch the top of your nose and hold your head up and wait. It'll go away, you just have to do the same thing."

"I hope so." For some reason, the girl humored her, smiling back as she struggled to wipe the blood from her mouth.

I wonder whether or not she's going to tell her brother.

For a moment they were quiet, Linden using the hem of her own gore-spattered dress to clean the crimson from the girl's hands.

"…Can you do something for me?" she asked suddenly.

Linden nodded.

"My brother needs somebody that will look out for him. He can't do it all by himself, and I won't…be able to, anymore." She said, her voice so hoarse it only came as a whisper. "Will you take care of him…for me?"

Tears streamed down her face as choked up more blood, clutching the porcelain doll like it was a lifeline.

"Of course I will," Linden said, taking one of the girl's pale hands in her own. "But you won't be sick for long, you know."

"Good," she sighed, the corners of her lips turning up contently. For a moment she just sat there, Linden watching her intently, until she sagged under her own weight, lying back down on the makeshift bed of blankets someone had made for her.

"I'm so tired," she whispered, taking another labored breath, closing her eyes.

"Then go to sleep," Linden suggested, brushing a strand of her ashy hair away from her face and covering her with a pelt. She smiled brightly as she tucked her doll under the covers with her. 'When you wake up we can play with our dolls together, okay?"

The girl's smile grew wider, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Thank you for your kindness, Linden." She muttered. Another round of coughing shook her, dark crimson spilling down her chin. Her eyes flew open, desperate for air as she seized her chest, doubling over as the blood spewed from her mouth and nose. Linden cried out, standing up and screaming for Zenith, running the short distance to the campfire where she sat.

Zenith stood, pulling the hysterical Linden close as she stroked her hair, muffling her cries as she watched the dying girl with tortured eyes. How could she explain to her what everyone else already knew? No matter what anybody did, we hadn't the supplies to save her. None of us were healers, and the extent of her wounds were too much for any of us. There was no hope for the girl. We would just be delaying the inevitable, drawing out her pain even more. It was better to let her go now.

But how could Zenith tell her that?

Ignorance is sometimes bliss.

"Why aren't you helping her?!" Linden shrieked, flailing against Zenith's grasp. "Zenith, let go of me!"

The girl finally stopped with her heaving, her grey eyes as wide as saucers as she slumped to the ground, her final breath leaving her in a painful sigh.

And then she was still.

I sat up, pressing three fingers gently to my forehead and both my shoulders in turn, muttering a soft prayer for her safe journey into the Sacred Realm. Archer—having just woken up but understood right away what had happened—mimicked my actions, his face darkening as his gaze went to his lap.

It didn't take a genius to know what was going through his head.

Another death on the mountain.

I went to stand beside Baxter, who was polishing the bloodied blade of his sword with unseeing eyes, muttering something about how only the innocent die so young.

"What are we going to do?" I murmured, watching Linden beat her fists on Zenith's chest, still struggling to break free of her hold.

It was Garrett that answered, his voice indifferent as if we were discussing the weather, flipping another page of the book he always seemed to have around.

"I suppose we'll have to wait for the boy to wake up." he said, muttering a spell to get the fire going again. "And then we bury her."

And so we waited, busying ourselves with collecting more firewood and sorting through our supplies, trying to figure out exactly how long it would last us if we rationed carefully, so on and so forth, until we could do nothing but idle.

After what seemed like an age, the boy finally began to stir, clutching the part of his face that was bandaged with a small moan.

After a moment, he managed to pull together the strength to sit up, his dark eyes alight with arrogance, confusion, and a bit of fear. Looking around quickly, his eyes narrowed, suspicion filling his face as he took in our various expressions of grief and apology.

"Where's my sister?" he demanded.