An explosion erupted at the head of the convoy heading along a dusty road. Chesty and several of his fellow soldiers were jostled violently in the transport they were in. Hell broke loose as everyone frantically made their way outside. The pops of distant heavy caliber weapons heralded an incoming bloodbath.
The scene did not play out in color. Everything from the sky to the sparse vegetation nearby to the blood that painted small pockets of barren rock and dust were all muted by a sepia tone would see in a nineteenth century photograph. Voices were muted, replaced with the whizzing of tungsten and lead. All around, the air was abnormally hot, perhaps intensified by the muzzle flashes of firearms.
Chesty took cover behind the truck he had ridden in, using layers of bullet resistant metal to shield himself. He saw that at least one Marine had been felled by sniper fire immediately after leaving the vehicle. Suppression of the incoming flak took priority as he and dozens of other trained soldiers tried to swallow down their fright to resist the ambush.
Suddenly, several rocket propelled grenades flew headlong at the stationary caravan. A few flew harmlessly over head, and others were fired at too shallow an angle, causing them to land and detonate prematurely. At least two hit home, one such victim being the truck sheltering Chesty.
Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he scrambled to get away from the explosive's target. A deafening blast consumed the air; every sound thereafter was temporarily drowned in a quiet ring. Something struck Chesty's left arm, and he fell onto exposed sandstone, landing painfully. Instead of blacking out, he grit his teeth from pain that radiated from his upper arm and his chest. Breathing became painful, and he had to relax his right hand's grip lest he carelessly squeeze off rounds in his discomfort.
The truck that had given Chesty and his brothers in arms cover was launched into the air. Screams that ordinarily would have been heard loud and clear were silent. Seconds later, the great transport landed in a crumpled heap of perforated and crushed metal. More distressingly, the stench of diesel fuel filled the air.
Chesty dragged another soldier behind the cover of the transport just behind the one he had formerly ridden in. Once protected again, he hastily began shooting wherever the sight of muzzle flashes could be spotted in the distance. By some miracle, he had not received anything that could not be worked through in the heat of the moment. His chest ached fiercely, and it was obvious that something in his left arm was busted up. He could still bring himself to level his carbine wherever it was needed. Unable to provide radio communication, he focused on taking small breaks in the battle to get his fellow marines behind cover, praying for immediate support.
A blur of events passed by, mostly consisting of lethal gunfire and terribly long minutes of helplessness. Suddenly, a ragged militant with a Soviet era firearm charged at Chesty as he was peaking out from behind the convoy truck. The moment when two pairs of eyes met seemed to last forever when Chesty leveled his carbine and pulled the trigger. At once, a burst of fire blazed out of the barrel and blood spurted out of the young insurgent's chest. A lifeless corpse toppled onto the marine, and he felt himself jerk with visceral force.
Toffa and Trott stirred momentarily as a loud gasp filled the men's quarters. Neither awoke, leaving one stable worker to deal with an unintended early rising.
Chesty had awoken with a start. He could barely perceive the world around him, indicating that at best, he had risen before the break of dawn. Such a revelation was disconcerting, especially when he knew the source of his disrupted rest. Realizing he was not in a combat zone, he steadied his breathing.
The bright side was that he had not broken out in a considerable sweat. Predictably, the bunk room was very dark, and it took time to adjust his eyes to the lack of light. Aware that he had company who were sleeping not far away from him, Chesty remained silent, even stemming a yawn with the back of his hand.
'That dream again.' The flashback that had occurred was not especially common. However, stress before going to bed increased the likelihood that reliving the end of his tour in Afghanistan would occur. Counseling and spending time working and enjoying life as a civilian helped, but such comfort would not be readily available until Vernon Chester Adams was back home.
As he was unexpectedly awake and unlikely to return to sleep, he gambled that it was not too early in the morning. The time had come to make his way to the Fairy Fountain in the Tabantha Region. It was his best chance for a swift, unorthodox return home.
'Might as well get ready.' Kicking off the bedsheets, Chesty stretched. He stifled another incoming yawn as he got to his feet. After carefully feeling around for his tennis shoes, he slowly placed them on his feet. It was time for one final morning routine before his journey north.
Cleaning up was a simple matter, and it became clear he did not have to worry about beating the heat of the day to hit the trail. The sky was still fairly dark, but the moon was present despite the fact that a new moon phase would not be possible on this night. Darkness was starting to give way to the dawn, and Chesty took full advantage to get ready and account for his things.
He dressed himself almost identically to when he first arrived in Hyrule. The gym shorts and camo dry fit shirt proved easy to wash, much to the fascination of Myti. Naturally, Chesty was evasive on the question of what they were made of, as well as the tags that were attached at the waistband of his shorts. It was best that he not go on tangents that he could not explain to people who would never understand. To inform people that he came from a different world where synthetic materials could be used to mass produce clothing would have branded him as a loon. Chesty did not want to find out the hard way that people who spoke strangely were treated like witches and werewolves in the Middle Ages.
After that, he double checked his quiver, his bow, fold out knife, his newly acquired bed roll, and other supplies. Leaving anything behind would have been an egregious mistake and inconvenience. A three day travel was a long distance for a young man moving on foot in a largely unknown country.
Fully dressed and with his equipment comfortably on his person, Chesty looked at the other men currently sleeping. An unsaid "farewell" passed his mind, and he left for the kitchen to grab a small bite to eat. 'A bit of bread will do it, although I should probably ask Myti or Embry for permission first.'
Walking on the front of his feet to minimize noise, he saw the faint flickering glow of candlelight coming from the stable commissary. Entering, Chesty saw a familiar woman chopping something up.
"Myti?"
The woman, dressed in a brown gown with long sleeves, turned her head, catching sight of the soon to be traveler in her peripheral vision. "I figured you'd like something before you left. It's just a baked apple and buttered toast. At least you won't depart on an empty stomach."
Chesty gave his thanks and sat down at a small table nearby. He put his supplies on the ground, leaning it against the chair he was in. Myti delivered the humble breakfast, and the smell of warm bread filled the young man's nostrils.
"It looks great." Chesty smiled.
"I hope so. It's just a simple baked apple and toast. You could make a baked apple just by cooking it close to an open flame."
"I'll be sure to remember that for the journey to the Fountain."
"That sounds like a plan." Myti said. "You enjoy it. I'll go get Embry. He has one more surprise before you leave."
The crust of the bread was firm and pleasant. From personal experience, it paled when compared to the rolls served at restaurants, but the butter more than made up for the modest taste. This left Chesty with the baked apple on the side.
'I guess you can bake almost anything with the right ingredients.' The once smooth red skin of the apple had wrinkled under the heat. A cursory examination showed that the top had been removed, with a few assorted nuts sticking out from what used to be the core. It smelled quite pleasant, and the flesh of the cooked fruit quickly gave way to the simple fork that Chesty was using.
Each bite proved very satisfying; the natural, honeyed taste of the apple went well with the dark, rough nuts that were mixed within. If such a recipe existed back home in his world, Chesty looked forward to trying it out.
Eventually, the thudding of boots heralded the arrival of Embry, who looked none the worse for wear despite being awake so early in the morning. "How is it? The breakfast, I mean."
Chesty wiped his face with a forearm. "Delicious. Myti is one heck of a cook."
"Indeed." Embry took a seat opposite Chesty.
"What are you doing up so early?"
"I take care of some of the early day chores alongside my wife. Lighting the candles, stoking up the fires for cooking, getting the ingredients together for breakfast, all of that is our job on behalf of the crew." Embry explained, stretching his arms with a groan. "It's hardly thrilling, waking up an hour before everyone else, but somebody's gotta do it."
"Well, thanks for your sacrifice." Chesty remarked with a tired smile.
Embry laughed dryly. "You're welcome. Are you going to head out so soon?"
"Since I'm awake?" Chesty asked, poking at a few stray nuts that were leftover from the small meal. "Might as well. The coolness of the early morning might help the journey along, and as I head on, I won't have to worry so much about being on the trails in the dark."
"You have everything you need?"
"Yup." Chesty patted his assortment of gear to his left. "Your wife even gifted me some recipes and an old bed roll of hers. Be sure to thank her again when I leave."
"I'm sure she'll appreciate it." Embry reached into a pocket on his Epona company issued vest. "I have a few things for you to have."
The operator of the Outskirt Stable deposited two objects on the table, just behind the now barren plates that Chesty had eaten from. One of the trinkets was a tiny pouch no bigger than a plum in size. The other object was a small wooden emblem similar to the insignia of the Epona Company.
"What's in the pouch?" Chesty asked. He scooped up the little parcel and felt a familiar texture of hard shapes. Looking inside after fumbling with the string that bound the pouch, he saw that it held five red rupees.
"Five day's pay." Embry announced generously. "A gift for what you did for my family."
Surprise at the gift turned into a sense of unworthiness. One hundred rupees was (probably) a pretty penny in Hyrule. Chesty parted his lips to kindly refuse the gift.
"Don't start on any of that 'I'm not a hero' or 'you shouldn't have' nonsense." Embry preempted firmly. "Yesterday, when I was helpless to do anything, you put your life on the line and saved my wife and little girl. Trust me, one hundred rupees is nothing compared what my family is worth to me."
Chesty remained silent, before allowing a little smile to grow on his face. He put the small satchel of money into his backpack, discarding any concerns about organization. "Thank you, Embry."
"That's not all. You see the token on the table? That's just a little something that you can show to any Epona Company Stable in Hyrule. You do that, and they'll be more than happy to give you a job or a discount on receiving a bed."
"Thank you." Chesty muttered, placing the token in a spare pocket. "I still think you've given me more than I deserve."
"Don't doubt your worth, Chesty." Embry disagreed. "This land would be all the better off if more people like you could do the right thing."
"Well, I guess we can hope." Chesty commented. "Any idea what time it is?"
"Based on the stars, I'd say about thirty minutes before five o'clock." Embry replied. "Last time I checked anyway."
"Alright. I guess the Sun will start to creep up over the eastern horizon." Chesty got to his feet and carefully accounted for all of his gear. "I wish you guys the best of luck moving forward."
"I appreciate it, son." Embry extended a hand, which Chesty readily shook. "It's a shame you're leaving us, but far be it from me to keep you from finding your way home. Good bye, Chesty."
"Good bye Embry. You and your family take care, okay?"
"Absolutely."
Chesty grabbed his effects, and with hope in his heart, he made his way to the front of the Outskirt Stable. He would have given his farewells to the rest of the staff, but his homesickness had to be addressed. The only way to do that, was to get on the road, as many a Hyrulean had done before him.
Above the lands of Hyrule, the early dawn sky was becoming brighter. The further one's gaze went eastward, the more dynamic the atmosphere became. Not so visible was the field of warm colored light just above the horizon. Within half an hour's time, the source of this light would lift into the sky, burning dew and shadow alike in its wake.
The air was crisp and pleasant: the perfect time for one to go out on a journey. A wayward veteran from a completely different world sought to take the chance to head north, seeking a way home.
As Chesty strode onto the road, he could now plainly observe just how sheltered the area around the Outskirt Stable was. It was only without the distraction of various errands that he noted the steep hills that flanked the road heading north. Overhead, the sky was sparsely cloudy and the breeze was pleasantly cool.
The path forward rose slightly, and was partly shaded by trees which stood atop the high ground to Chesty's right. Shortly, as he rose with the elevating path, he saw the ruined remnants of the covered wagon which the amateur treasure hunter Regan had examined weeks before. At once, Chesty's thoughts traveled to the shoeless adventurer whom he had saved from the predation of a Bokoblin.
'I wonder if he's found anything of worth...' The neophyte within him imagined that Regan discovered a great bounty in some sheltered cave, and that he retired from his adventures as a wealthy and happy man. 'It would certainly be a treasure to get home. Here's hoping that Great Fairy is still around.'
To merely humor the idea that a magical woman would be the answer to his problems gave Chesty some pause. All the same, he supposed that not everything could be easily explained by hard science. He was not especially religious, but he did not think it completely laughable to have faith in some higher power beyond what was understandable to human minds. Canni did not seem like one to get people's hopes up, so he went forth from the stable with cautious optimism.
He learned of the lake from conversations with Myti early on. Chesty largely put the names of the local area to the side whilst he built up wealth as a laborer. Now that he was on a pilgrimage to acquire a means home, he decided to let his mind ponder about the various landmarks and natural wonders of Hyrule. One fortune on Chesty's part was that there was minimal fog that morning. Although it was not perfectly clear, he could still make out the lay of the land as he passed along the horse trail to Tabantha.
Further along, he could see the last dark remnants of Aquame Lake on his right. It was the body of water which acted as an additional source of water for general use. He preferred moving water to the water of the well, justifying that it would be slightly cleaner to drink.
A stone bridge with three thick columns for support spanned a narrow crease in the waters of Aquame. To his surprise, his eyes were drawn to a tremendous colossus in the distance. The mountain rose forebodingly, and astonishingly, crimson vessels of what appeared to be lava trickled down its bleak slopes. Even that sight paled to the spires which were just next to the mountain in view.
He could plainly see Hyrule Castle, as mentioned by old man Toffa several days ago. It looked no bigger from the current distance than Cinderella's castle in Disney World if one was strolling at the beginning of Main Street. 'Never thought I would see an actual medieval castle in real life. Shame that it's in ruins.'
For a quick moment, he could have sworn that a serpentine cloud of dark violet was billowing from around the towers in his vision. Whatever the phenomenon was, it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Rubbing his eyes revealed nothing too unusual, so Chesty ignored the castle as the hill began to slope downwards.
Daylight became more prominent as the Sun finally rose over the land. Further along the road, more barren rock could be seen, jutting out around the landscape as both gray patches of eroded ground and vast inhospitable hillsides. Across the Regencia River, the southern most side of Safula Hill stood as treacherous as the slopes of any mountain on the far side of the world. While not nearly so tall, it was a challenge that Chesty had no desire to partake of, especially when there were more important things to do.
Up ahead was a lonely tree. It appeared somewhat young, no more than perhaps three stories tall. As if standing like a sentry, it watched diligently next to the path leading to Manhala Bridge. Chesty passed the tree, and steadily made his way across the bridge.
Manhala Bridge was, up close, quite a ramshackle crossing, just as Chesty remembered it. The wood was various shades of brown, much of which came in uneven planks that met each other in jagged fissures. Such construction was unlike the neatly lined boards of wood that one might find at a utility store. The supporting columns, six on each side, were as big as a typical wooden power pole, and each showed varying degrees of wear and tear over decades of standing. Thankfully, aside from the natural thudding of shoes against lumber, the bridge showed no telltale signs of collapse.
'Perhaps the stable network has been keeping the bridges in good shape.' Chesty thought. 'Makes you wonder who specifically did the work, given that the world apparently went to hell a century ago.'
Over the bridge, the trail faded as grass and pale wildflowers began to reclaim the century old trail. The verdant corridor, bordered by burgeoning outcroppings of stone, rose precipitously. When Chesty last traversed this area, he was moving downhill. Now, he had to hike up the hill with extra pounds of new gear on his person. At the very least, the brown earth was dry and firm beneath his feet, so worries about slipping along the way up were minimal.
Steadily, one leg was lifted one after the other. Just a few strides up the hill, and Chesty's calves were starting to burn mildly from exertion. It reminded him vaguely of endurance tests that people in the armed forces were expected to pass. 'Just keep breathing, and lean into the hill.' He repeated in his head. While monotonous, it did not completely drain him of all of his energy.
In the periphery of his vision, Chesty could see insects hovering and hopping over blades of unkempt flora. Grasshoppers could be identified immediately, looking similar in coloration to leaves at the end of a dark wooden branch. Joining them in a discordant waltz were flies, midges, bees, butterflies, as well as dragonflies. With the Sun getting higher in the sky, birds began to chirp and warble from a distance.
After ten minutes of marching at a sloped angle, he found the ascent becoming easier. The incline became less steep, and some of the stone gave way to woods. He saw the apple tree that he had seen weeks ago again. It still had some ripe fruit among its branches, so Chesty took the time to grab a few apples to eat on the road.
Putting away the newly acquired sustenance, he hiked on, his burden slightly increased. To his left, he saw an upcoming fork in the road. Chesty was quite familiar with this westward path, for he traversed it less than a month ago when he first arrived, inexplicably, into the land of Hyrule.
'Dalite Forest.' That location had been mentioned first thing when Canni provided lessons regarding the Hylian alphabet. He apparently had woken up at the very periphery of the woodlands, under a roof of glittering stars and moonlight. 'I wonder if there's any significance to the fact that I woke up there of all places.'
There was ultimately little point in dwelling on the matter or making a detour to reminisce about his brief tenure sleeping off of the path through Dalite Forest. Chesty grabbed his canteen, filled with fresh water the previous evening, and took a much needed drink. Once the canteen was put away, he continued on as normal.
Briefly, the path before him wound to the right, with a large tree standing watch over the bend. The Dalite Forest was left behind as the sight of a grassy valley appeared on the left. Moments later, the road dipped, and the rock that occupied much of Chesty's rightward view gave way to the grass which made up Safula Hill. Yet another tree, even larger than the one he was passing, could be seen lording over the apex of the prominence.
The Sun was now well into the sky, and the temperature was rising. Humidity that day was thankfully limited; for a young man who grew up in a semi tropical region of the United States, it was a relatively pleasant stroll. Although Chesty had to keep an eye out for horse droppings and occasionally swatted away pestering flies, he was making steady progress.
As the path rose again, Chesty's eyes fell upon two objects. The most immediate presence was another sizable tree, its crown uniquely broad like a straw hat. This tree leaned somewhat over the trail, a large root visibly forking like a brown, serpentine tongue over the hill, next to the road.
Further afield was a rearing horse. The beast was stationary, and its complexion was uniformly dark. Chesty quickly surmised that it was no organic creature, but a statue, posing magnificently atop some kind of altar on the next hill.
Getting closer to the stone horse statue, he saw that it was proceeded by distinctive columns. These pillars were only part of a larger structure, carved out of granite rock that had been worn away and blemished by rain and moss after decades of neglect.
The first pair of carved towers were almost twenty feet tall, standing atop a three foot wide barrier. Each pillar was hexagonal, a strange emblem of intersecting loops faintly visible on each face of the pillar's base. The top of the pillars was fancily carved in a curving pattern.
Chesty noticed that the path beneath his feet gave way to two surfaces. The left path was wooden like Manhala Bridge, likely for the purpose of comfortable travel for horses and other mounts as adventurers and merchants made their way across this stretch of Hyrulean territory. Conversely, the right side, which was roughly half the width of the wooden boardwalk, was fashioned of irregular cobblestones. The stone path was the only side to have a proper stairwell, albeit one with distinctly shallow steps.
Slowing down to take in the sights, more details of this manmade space came to light. More pillars stood, though they were considerably stouter than their previous brethren. There were two trees that were strategically placed beside a half circle of stone that was both carved and cobbled. The hard ground beneath was largely hidden beneath a thin layer of grass and wildflowers.
At the center of this half circle of green carpet and smothered rock was an elegant fountain. Although time had worn away at the structure, carved patterns could still be plainly seen. A few birds flew away in panic as Chesty approached, taking into account the clean water which poured smoothly from the bowl like portion of the fountain.
Chesty took the time to wash his face and bravely took a few drinks of the water of that flowed from the top. Any chance to reduce drinking his canteen water was a welcome opportunity. Once he was done with the fountain's utility, he decided to examine the upper pavilion.
He took a small set of stairs to a larger courtyard. This was where the horse statue was located. A close observation of the stationary stallion put his initial sighting to shame. Like a creation of Michelangelo, everything from the flaring nostrils to the muscles flexing in the horse's limbs was realistic. Perhaps even more impressively, the statue was also life like in its size, rather than a melodramatic depiction of an equine specimen.
The bottom of the statue acted like a second fountain, bleeding crystal clear water into a horse hoof shaped pool five inches deep. Surrounding the pool was a small lawn filled with healthy grass. There were signs of mounts having fed from the turf, showing a master stroke of form meeting function.
A row of three steel posts stood behind the statue. The metal rings attached to them, looking uniquely like the bits of a horse's reigns, denoted their purpose: a horse could be tied to the post and graze at their leisure on the small lawn surrounding the statue.
"Damn." Chesty commented. "This is some impressive architecture."
Glancing to his right, he saw a magnificent view. Far off, he could see rolling green hills and four prominent peaks. The aptly named Death Mountain stood forebodingly to the northeast. Directly across was another large peak, albeit not volcanic in nature. Instead, this mountain gleamed like winter ice on the surface of a lake. Just to the left of that distant peak was the notably closer Dueling Peaks, where Chesty could plainly see the gap between the divided pinnacles.
Chesty was now fully absorbed in the grandeur of Sanidin Park. The sights before him were only enhanced as the sound of trickling water, chirping birds, and gentle gusts filled his ears. Minutes later into this pause on his journey, Chesty heard the clopping of hooves against the wooden portion of the path to his left.
Turning, Chesty saw that he was not alone. At the northern end of the eastern pavilion, a man and his mount, a grey mare with black hair, stood looking longingly at the plains before him.
"Quite the view." The stranger said, his voice a rich baritone.
Outwardly, the Hylian's garb was not particularly different from most of the travelers that Chesty had seen during his time at the Outskirt Stable. He had a short sword sheathed against his back at a near ninety degree angle. Strapped to the burgeoning rucksack on his back was a wooden shield that sported a painted blue fish at its center.
Chesty relaxed. "It is indeed, stranger. What brings you here?"
"I've been here a few times previously. It's a perfect spot to rest my companion here." The man took the chance to stroke his horse's neck as it nibbled some grass at the edge of the lawn.
"This is my first time here." Chesty answered. "I'm just heading northwards. Should take me about three days."
"The name's Glendo." The man answered, turning his tall, handsome face in the non-Hylian's direction.
"Call me Chesty." Came the reply.
"You on a journey of your own?"
Chesty thought of a cryptic answer. Mentioning his intent to receive a blessing from a fairy in a magical fountain might have sounded ridiculous to a relative stranger. "You could say that."
Glendo accepted the explanation without a hint of scrutiny. "I'm just traveling over Hyrule like my father did before me. Sanidin Park is probably my favorite place in these parts."
"It's a marvel of architecture." Chesty opined. "Not that I'm a scholar on the matter, but it's clear that it was made with careful planning."
Glendo hummed in agreement. "You can get a good look at Hyrule Castle from here." The rider pointed to the royal structure in the distance, in the general direction of Death Mountain. The castle looked much more imposing than when Chesty first spotted it.
There was silence as both men looked to the desolate palace to the northeast. New details could be seen, most of which were more solemn or strange than enchanting. From four directions, gigantic pillars with alien looking patterns were sprouting from the ground at steep angles towards the castle. Further down, there were charred ruins of a town just to the south of the abandoned stronghold. The blackened heaps of collapsed structures eerily reminded Chesty of the indiscriminate devastation of war. It was a concept he was regrettably familiar with.
"Just imagine being there when it was in its heyday." Glendo commented. "Markets bustling. Soldiers marching. A center of commerce and culture alike filled with all of the races of Hyrule."
"Imagine being there the day the Calamity struck." Chesty retorted gravely. For a moment, he was unsure why he had said such a thing. 'Do I want to dampen the mood?'
The handsome Glendo's face fell, looking sober from Chesty's grim reminder. "You uh, hear the stories?" He asked cautiously.
Chesty met his eyes, nodding once. "I worked at a stable until just recently. The oldest worker there had a grandfather who survived. Let's just say I couldn't do his story justice. It was terrifying, and I've seen my fair share of awful things in life."
Glendo did not immediately reply. He leaned against the metal railing portion of the pavilion's edge. "Well, most of those who experienced that day are long gone. Now all that's left is their descendants. All we can do is move forward. Maybe one day we'll be able to safely live in central Hyrule again."
"What's stopping you now?" Chesty asked.
Glendo gave him a befuddled look. "You're joking, right?"
"No." Chesty's brow creased. "I'm not from Hyrule, so forgive me if I'm not in the know about this country."
"I see." Glendo crossed his arms as he gave some thought for an answer. "Well, central Hyrule is arguably the most dangerous place, at least outside of the regions with extreme climate conditions. It's full of roaming monsters and machine like creatures."
"Machines?"
"Yeah. Didn't you ever hear mention of machines in the stories you heard?"
Indeed, Chesty could recall Toffa speaking of machines that were supposed to combat the forces of Calamity Ganon. He nodded his understanding.
"Well, those machines are called 'Guardians.'" Explained Glendo. "Sound harmless enough, but if you ever see anything large and mechanical, you'd best get behind cover and pray you aren't in its sights. If you don't, then death is almost certain."
"These Guardians are that dangerous?" Chesty asked, his eyes wide with unconstrained shock.
"Yup." Glendo answered. "Some of them crawl like big, metal spiders on the ground. Others can hover in the air with big, rotating wings. All of them have a single eye that can track targets with precision and blast them with a deadly blast of pure light. It can kill a horse with one strike, so imagine how you'd end up if you received that kind of hit full blast."
"You've seen that firsthand?!"
"No, Hylia bless me. I have heard stories from credible sources. Sometimes you can see the dormant husks of Guardians along the roads, and that can give you a damn good reference of their size and how powerful they are."
Chesty did not need to imagine the result. In retrospect, he should have asked more questions after hearing talk of machines programmed to fight evil in a land that technologically was stuck in the late Middle Ages. 'That's an interesting conversation to be had.' He doubted that Glendo had the knowledge to explain.
"Where did those machines come from?"
Glendo shrugged. "They were dug up, I guess? Before the Calamity happened. What I know for certain is that the Guardians were made by a mysterious tribe called the 'Shiekah.'"
"Shiekah... Were they an ancient people or something?"
"Not really. Their descendants live in a place to the south. Kakariko Village, I believe it's called."
The information was useless for Chesty's purposes, but he supposed the fact was interesting enough. "So, after you've rested, where are you headed? I'm heading north."
"Eh. Maybe I'll travel down to Lurelin Village far to the south. Hear they got exotic fish and great food. Figured I'd try it." Glendo stated.
'I might have to visit the map again.' Chewy thought. The names of these various locations sounded like an opportunity to keep his ability to read Hylian sharp. "Hope it works out for you."
"Same with you and your northern pilgrimage, my friend." Glendo said. "Be careful on the road, bandits and beasts alike could take advantage of a lone traveler on foot."
The distraction of the Sanidin Park ruins was a pleasant one, and it went on longer than was ideal for Chesty, perhaps two hours at least. As beautiful as Hyrule was, he still had a journey to make. The young man made his way back onto the northern trail, which sloped down onto a flat plain. Slowing down, he took a swig from his canteen and bites out of one of the apples he had plucked earlier.
Unlike the early part of the journey, the path before him was considerably more level. On Chesty's left stood a great, lonely peak: Satori Mountain. A typical explorer would have leapt at the chance to explore its various precipices and gullies. For Vernon Adams, it was just another landmark that he would push to the back of his mind once he returned home.
It became apparent that this stretch of road was exceptionally long. There was little to be seen in terms of foliage past the Sanidin Park ruins. Chesty understood that sleeping beneath a tree was a safer place than on the open road, where bandits and animals would be more likely to threaten him. The Sun's slow descent had now come to a steep angle in the western sky.
While Chesty became worried about sleeping next to the road, he spotted a pair of large trees roughly one hundred yards away from the path. They stood beneath the shadow of Satori Mountain, and from the young man's point of view, the trees were a decent place to set up camp while there was still sufficient daylight to set his things down and make a place to lie down.
"I really wish I knew how to make a fire." Chesty muttered thoughtfully. "Nights aren't exactly cold, but it's be useful." He placed his nap sack and everything down, sitting with his back against the largest of the two trees.
Using the remaining daylight, Chesty carefully laid out his bedroll and got around to testing it for comfort. Three times he had to adjust himself or move the bedroll entirely due to the presence of tree roots underneath him. As dusk came around, he idly ate another apple and drank to take care of his thirst.
Already he missed having a roof over his head and regular meals at the Outskirt Stable. "No turning back. I need to find a way home." On the bright side, he would not be totally exposed to the night air, unlike his first night in Hyrule.
Eventually, the sun disappeared, and the moon began to take its place. Without anything to idle away the time, Chesty decided to go to sleep. He had adjusted his bed roll as best as he could, given his choice of camp. It took time for his body heat to join the cloth of the bedroll over his torso and legs, but he eventually found himself feeling somewhat comfortable. The tall grass made for a mediocre cushion, and Chesty prayed that it would be enough to let him sleep soundly in the rough for one night.
"Day one of returning home." He whispered to himself. "Hope that fairy tale has some merit."
Moonlight cascaded over the branches above, and Chesty Adams fell into a dreamless slumber.