GUESS WHO! It's me.
I don't have much of an excuse for the late update other than finals happened, work got busy, and I just lost track of time. I'M SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY!
But never fear! The next chapter of Corrupted Hero is here, and boy, is it beefy. After seeing the new BotW trailer (GO WATCH IT! HOLY CRAP!) I kicked myself into overdrive to get this finished. It's like, 3 AM, so that's fun. :P
I wanted to make sure this chapter was something else. Something to really sink your teeth into after such a long wait. Here, we'll meet a character that I had waaaay too much fun with. Just a warning, however, this one gets a little intense. Here's where that T-rating comes into play. But it's nothing too extreme, don't worry.
Seriously, I want to give a HUGE thank you to you for being so wonderfully patient. You guys rock. I couldn't ask for a better group of friends.
Anyway, I'll be quiet, now. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I personally think it's one of my best. :)
Needles of icy rain pricked Link's skin as he thundered down Impa's staircase. With each pounding step he took, the memory of Paya, bruised and sobbing, burned within skull, driving his feet with a righteous haste he had never felt before. He moved like a man possessed. His gaze fixed ever forward, he gripped the hilt of Cado's sword with glowing knuckles, steadying it as it bounced against his hip, his jaw clenched and his heart racing.
He had to find that thief.
Even if it took him all night, he would find him. Even if the rain soaked him through to his magenta bones. Even if he had to chase him out of the village like a dog, he would find that thief. Though the thought of facing such a dangerous person sent flickers of fear between his ribs — as he had yet to stand up to someone like that — he wouldn't back down now. He couldn't. Something inside him forbade it.
No, he would find the thief — and he would make him pay. No matter what it took.
Link stampeded down the stairs in a few seconds flat, hitting the muddy ground with a splash. He slowed his pace, casting his eyes about. Over the course of several hours, the stormbank from earlier that afternoon consumed the mountains, casting a peaceful, diaphanous mist upon the village that thickened the shadows and lowered visibility. At that late hour, with all but a few of the village's lanterns extinguished, Link could only just make out the silhouettes of the houses and trees nearby — a fact that made him anxious. He prayed he'd be able to find the thief amidst the damp, dripping darkness.
But where would he even begin to look?
Due to his haste, it only then occurred to Link that he had no idea who or what he was looking for. He stood for a moment, sorting through his options. All he had to go off of was Paya's vague description of the thief. A man. So big. So cruel. A man not afraid to strike a defenseless person. The thief was undoubtedly not a local, so Link put away the faces of the villagers from his mind. None of them could have done something like this.
No, he was looking for a stranger. Someone who didn't belong. Someone holding the Sheikah Slate.
The thought of the Slate stirred something within him, but he suppressed it, gritting his teeth. He had to find the thief first. Then, perhaps he could begin to understand why he was so inexplicably desperate to have it. He wasn't so certain he was prepared for the answer, however.
But he would meet that end when it came. Wrenching his mind back to his task, Link continued to scan his surroundings, unaware that he was being watched.
He searched, his gaze voracious, but he didn't find anything amiss nearby — only the pattering rain and darkness soaking the grass. For a moment, he tempted the thought of going back inside the house to ask Paya for more information. Perhaps he'd ask for a coat, as well, and maybe a lantern. But just as he was about to turn, something caught his eye — a bobbing orb of light, rapidly advancing toward him, accompanied by the wet slapping of footsteps.
He squinted at the light, his grip on Cado's sword tightening. Could this be the thief?
To Link's astonishment, it wasn't. Of all the people to meet at that moment, this person was the very last he was expecting.
A gruff, familiar voice hollered into the night, "Hey! Hey! Over here!"
Link's face twisted slightly when he recognized their voice. "Dorian?!" he called back, striding forward, shielding his third eye from the rain.
The old Sheikah's figure came into view as he made his way across the grass, a lantern aloft in his fist. He had his broken arm tucked close to his chest, the coat draped over his shoulders protecting it from the elements. His curved wicker hat sat atop his head, his sideburns drooping and dripping. Link found with a start that Dorian wasn't barreling toward him, sword drawn and screaming. No, he looked tired, anxious even, his eyes sunken. Something was wrong.
Dorian came to a stop before Link at a minimum safe distance, his lips taut. Link's heart stuttered at his sudden entrance, and he stood stiffly, half-anticipating an attack. Fortunately for the both of them, none came — from Dorian or otherwise. Even so, Link still itched in the old man's presence. He hadn't forgotten their encounter that afternoon.
Before either of them could speak, Link found himself stiffening beneath Dorian's gaze. As if in a daze, Dorian drank in the magenta glow of Link's rib cage and clavicle beaming between the tatters of his shirt. His skeleton radiated in the dark with a rather brilliant, if not corrupted, light; it reflected in the old man's eyes, almost hypnotizing him. He had never seen anything so darkly bizarre in his life.
Link finally ripped him out of his stupor when he asked, "Dorian, what are you doing up this late? It's nearly three in the morning."
A muscle in Dorian's jaw worked as he blinked back into lucidity. Finally, he replied, "I heard about the thief. If what they said is true, that a Yiga did this…" He trailed off, looking on toward Impa's house. Embers of hatred smoldered in his eye. "...Then I won't rest until that fiend is dead at my feet."
He looked intently back to Link, continuing, "I heard someone run past my house just now — sounded like they were in a hurry. I've got a gut feeling that that was that filthy Yiga." His eyes then wandered to the sword on Link's hip, where he wondered, his voice grim, "I take it you're going after him?"
Link gave a resolute nod. "I am."
There came a pause before Dorian smirked. It startled Link, but he shook it off.
"Then I'm coming with you," the Sheikah stated. "No Yiga scum sets foot in my village without answering to my blade."
Another pause followed as Link shifted his feet. He suddenly found himself at war with his thoughts. On one hand, he had grown suspicious — Dorian's current demeanor was a complete tonal shift from the hostile man he had argued with earlier that day. What had caused this change of heart? The threat to the village, perhaps? He wasn't sure. And though Link admired Dorian's resolve in the face of his injuries, he hesitated to accept his proposal. He didn't want to bring more harm to the old man than he had already dealt himself — the last thing he needed was another broken limb. Hylia forbid he was killed.
He wasn't sure what to think. Link, his mind a maelstrom, chose his next words carefully, hand-picking them before Dorian inevitably tore them to shreds.
"Listen… Dorian… I appreciate your offer," he began timidly. "But... what about your arm? I wouldn't want you getting hurt — er… worse."
Link quickly regretted expressing his concern. Dorian's eyes widened, his nostrils flaring — he looked about to burst with rage, but he somehow contained himself.
Taking a deep breath, he glowered at Link for a few moments before growling, "Don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot do. Not here." His brows knit together. "This is personal. I'm sure you understand that, don't you?"
Link swallowed a rock that had lodged in his throat. He shrugged a shoulder. "Y-yes. I suppose I can." He collected himself, nodding — either to himself, or to Dorian, he wasn't sure. No matter what he said, it seemed Dorian wouldn't take no for an answer.
"All right, then," Link finally complied. "We'll find him together. Do you have a weapon?"
Dorian replied, his gaze unflinching, "I am armed. Don't you worry about that."
Link, beginning to sweat for some reason, gave a nervous smile. He believed him, even though he couldn't see whatever he was carrying. He just hoped it would be enough to stand against the thief, whoever — or whatever — they turned out to be.
"Good. Great. Erm…" Link trailed off, his mind wandering. As he looked over Dorian's shoulder toward the shadow-logged path through the village, Link failed to notice the old man's smirk gaining a darker edge.
Link's mind was too preoccupied with his next moves — with Dorian at his side, he had to rethink things. Now, he had a light to guide him, as well as a local eye. Perhaps Dorian's company would prove fruitful?
Link sighed through his nose, preparing himself. He turned his eyes back to Dorian. Though it was a long-shot, he asked, "You didn't happen to see the thief, did you?"
Dorian's smirk vanished just as Link returned his attention to him. He shook his head. "I'm afraid not, no, but I heard his steps. Heavy steps, not like anyone's around here. Sounded like they were headed up the trail out of the village." He gestured his lantern behind him. "Come, we should be able to catch him before he flees."
For a brief moment, as he stared at the old Sheikah, Link's gut bloomed with a sensation he couldn't name. It was septic, and it frothed within him, twisting his insides. Something didn't feel right. Chalking it up to nerves, he brushed the feeling aside.
"Right," he replied, striding past Dorian. "Let's go."
Dorian followed him without a word.
The pair set off into the night, walking near enough to each other to paint their feet in the light of Dorian's lantern, all the while maintaining an arm's-length between them. They crossed the large courtyard and began to ascend the trail before taking a left at a split in the path. Apart from their wet footsteps, they traveled in total silence, both of their stomachs churning with anticipation at what was to come.
As they trekked up a steep, sloping switchback overlooking the village, Link's mind swirled with the machinations of his imagination. He began to envision what he believed the thief to look like, based on Paya's description. He was tall, foreboding. Cruel. Only he didn't have a face — Link couldn't piece together one that would suit someone so vicious. Part of him cowered at the image, but another part, much more courageous than the other, vowed to stand up to him and deal the terror and pain he had stricken into Paya back tenfold. He felt it was his duty to the village to do so.
After all, if he hadn't have entered Kakariko, he wouldn't have brought the Slate with him — the Slate that had sparked the chain of events that had led him to that moment.
Even with the courage flowing in his veins, Link still grew more and more anxious to meet his adversary with each step. At that point, as his curiosity overcame him, he risked a question to his companion.
"Dorian," he began quietly. "Thanks again for coming along. I'm grateful. But I'm curious… Do you have any idea what we're up against?" Dorian's ears perked up. "Because… I've been hearing about this... Yiga… but I don't know much about it. What is it, exactly?"
For a moment, it appeared that Dorian had ignored him. But the scowl that eventually found the old man's face curdled Link's blood — it almost mutated the man before him, embittered by a history he didn't know… and one he dared not ask about.
Dorian's eyes clouded over, his knuckles straining around the lantern handle. He snarled through his teeth, "Of course you wouldn't know what they are. Just my luck… They're not a single person, the Yiga. If they were only one, I would have sliced their head from their shoulders years ago..." He shook his head, continuing, "No, the Yiga are a Clan — a collective group of murderous, conniving thieves and slanderers, all swearing allegiance to Ganon."
A chill shuddered Link's spine at Ganon's name. He could only listen in uncomfortable silence as Dorian explained, "Long ago, the Yiga were founded by a group of radical separatists, claiming Ganon to be their leader. They grovel at his feet like sycophants, relishing in death and the pain of others. They take what they want and keep what they steal, regardless of who stands in their way."
He paused, swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth. "The Yiga are among the vilest creatures of Hyrule, second only to Ganon himself… If I had my way, they would be hunted down and killed like the dogs they are."
He suddenly turned his head and glowered at Link. The glow from the lantern cast his wicked expression with harsh shadows that made him look inhuman for a moment, replaced by a creature of hate.
"I will not forgive this," Dorian snapped. "This should never have happened. I'm here to make sure it never happens again." He looked Link square in the eye. "Make no mistake about that."
Link cringed away almost invisibly, his skin crawling. Somehow, he felt that he was the intended target of Dorian's biting words. But perhaps he was just being paranoid? Even if they were only words, he still endeavored to steady his heart in the wake of Dorian's exposition. He abruptly found himself thankful he had Cado's sword on him. Now that they were well away from the village — alone — he feared for the worst if he didn't. He held it as if it were a lifeline.
Their pace had slowed as Dorian spoke. "You, er, seem to know a lot about them," Link mumbled, only to immediately grimace, wishing he had kept his mouth shut.
Dorian stopped cold, his eyes catching fire. "What exactly are you implying?" he growled, glaring down his nose at Link, who had ground to a halt as well. "Hm?"
"N-nothing, I just — " Link tried to say.
"Just what?" Dorian demanded, bearing down on him. "You think I'm a Yiga, do you? Well?! Do you?!"
Link, shrinking away, stammered, "No, no, of course not! I-I would never! You're not like them. Not at all. You love your people. Your village. Your daughters." He gulped down hard beneath Dorian's volatile stare, his face burning. "Y-you would do anything to protect them. And I admire that." He shook his head. "You're not a Yiga, Dorian — I know that."
The Sheikah held Link in his gaze for a suffocating, almost eternal, moment. The fire in his eyes was enough to melt Link's resolve into a puddle of nothing.
Finally, he blinked and gave a huff, snarling, "I am not a Yiga. Don't you ever mistake me for one of those devils."
He pulled back and stared Link down just long enough to throw the poor Hylian's heart into irregularity. Satisfied with his response, Dorian then gestured his lantern up the path, stating, "Now, I believe we have a job to do. Let's get to it before the thief makes off with what he stole, shall we?"
Link nodded, his voice lodged in his throat. He wanted to hurl himself off the cliff for letting that slip. As he fell in stride beside Dorian, he cursed himself; he couldn't seem to get along with the old man no matter how much he tried. It seemed that everything that came out of his mouth only threw off his rage.
They resumed their journey in stiff silence. As they climbed the final switchback above the village, the trail abruptly dissolved into the grass, giving way to a thick wall of shadowy trees crowning the crest of the mountainside. Dotted amongst the undergrowth were troops of bioluminescent mushrooms emitting faint light. Nearby, a small, reverent river burbled, speckled with raindrops — it cleaved the glade in two, joined together by a thin bridge.
Link and Dorian paused and checked their surroundings. The thief had either fled into the heart of the trees, or across the bridge and into a dead end. Link figured the former was more likely — he turned and was about to head into the thickets when Dorian stopped him.
"There. Lakna woods," he said, pointing to the thinner grove of trees beyond the river. "Across the bridge. He should be there."
Link squinted at the sparse trees beyond, his mind hitting a wall. "But there's hardly any cover, there," he said, his brows furrowing. "Don't you think he would have ran to the deep woods to escape?"
When he came around to meet Dorian's eyes, he froze. Dorian held him again in his unflinching glare — it was almost like a vise grip around his throat, holding him hostage.
The old man's expression was stone-like when he grumbled, "No. He is in Lakna woods. I know it."
Link couldn't help but stare at him. The confidence in his voice was… uncanny. Part of him immediately gave in to his commands for fear of being berated, but the other part roiled with doubt.
"How can you be sure?" Link prodded. "You said you hadn't seen him."
Dorian hesitated only slightly, his eye twitching. He seemed to reply through his teeth when he said, "No — but I know how the Yiga operate. You don't. Trust me when I say that the thief is there."
Link couldn't understand his reasoning. He seemed to be depending on a hunch. Carefully, he replied, "I'm sorry, but I disagree. I think we should check the deep woods first, before he gets away."
Dorian ground his jaw and shifted his feet, growing frustrated. He thrust his lantern toward the bridge again, his voice harsher than before. "Look, do you want to catch him, or not?!"
"I do!" Link replied, raising his hands. The action only put Dorian on edge further, and his body locked up. Link followed suit. He looked the old man up and down for several moments, trying to read him. Why was he being so stubborn about this? He couldn't comprehend it.
Link, beginning to cede to Dorian's bizarre confidence, continued, "I want to catch him. And I will." Pursing his lips, he then gave Lakna woods a second glance, fighting against more waves of doubt. "If you say he's there, then... perhaps we can take a look."
He didn't believe the thief had fled to those thin woods, but he supposed checking wouldn't hurt if they were quick. And yet, something still rooted him in his place. It was back, again. That noxious sensation eating at his stomach. Something wasn't right. But try as he might, he couldn't bring his mind to name what it was, and it was beginning to drive him mad.
In the end, he chose the safer route; anything to avoid another explosive argument. Without another word, Link forced his feet forward and motioned for Dorian to follow him, making his way toward the bridge. It was a thin bridge, so Link took point.
As he proceeded across it, he fought the feeling off, again. But it lingered. It was like an unscratchable itch beneath his skin. With every step he took, the feeling inside him crescendoed from a nagging flutter to full-fledged throes of nauseating, bubbling bile. His gut screamed at him to turn back.
But why?
When they reached the other side of the bridge, Link spotted something in the trees ahead. It was blurry in the rainy darkness, but it stood out amongst the canopies: a deep red color, much larger than any possible fruit or animal that could have been there. He couldn't say for certain, but he thought he could make out a humanesque figure seated in one of the branches.
Then he looked harder, training all three of his eyes on it. There was no mistaking it. Someone was reclined in a tree at the edge of the glade, casually swinging their leg from a bough, and they were fiddling with something in their hands. Something aglow with a crimson light.
The Sheikah Slate.
Link's heart plummeted into his boiling stomach. The thief. It was him.
All at once, Link's mind burst with panic and shock, his veins lighting up as he prepared himself to face him. He stopped dead in his tracks, his mind buzzing, spurring his thoughts along at breakneck speeds and swirling his insides into an anxious slurry.
Gods above, the thief really was here. But how had Dorian known precisely where he would be? Intuition? A lucky guess? But he had been so sure... It was almost as if… No. That couldn't have been…?
Behind Link, Dorian had stopped as well, his eyes trained, unblinking, on the back of his head. While Link's mind was thrown into chaos, he was completely unaware that his companion was carefully setting down his lantern. Slowly, he reached into his coat, removing something bright and sparking with energy, before sneaking closer to Link.
Meanwhile, Link, unable to pry his gaze from the faint figure beyond, instinctually reached for the sword on his hip. He began, "Dorian…! How did you — !"
His voice was throttled when Dorian suddenly thrust something into his back. Jolts of crackling electricity pumped into his body in an unrelenting wave, his muscles convulsing without his control. His hair sprung on its end, his heart and lungs stuttering from the raw energy surging through his cells and blood vessels. He gave a guttural grunt of pain, unable to coax his spasming limbs to escape.
Dorian held his Thunderstorm Rod in Link's back for a solid three seconds before retracting it. Without hesitation, he plunged his foot into the base of Link's spine, sending him face-first into the mud. He was still twitching when Dorian knelt, set aside the rod, and pulled a pair of shackles from his coat. Link, helpless to fight back, could merely watch through the corner of his eye as the old Sheikah chained his wrists together at his back.
"D-Dorian — w-w-what are you doing?!" Link stuttered, fighting to gain control of his body again. "I d-don't underst-stand!"
The Sheikah tightened the shackles till they bit into his skin. He sneered down his nose at Link, growling, "I'm setting things right. For me, for my village, and for Hyrule. Now shut up and let me do my job."
Horrified, Link gasped, "What?!"
Dorian didn't allow him another word. He raised his head, stood, and firmly planted his foot on Link's head, pressing him into the mud.
"IZER!" Dorian roared to the rain. "Come out! I'm here."
Link watched in paralyzed, slack-jawed dread as the figure in the tree turned his head. He secured the Sheikah Slate on his belt and dismounted the branch lithely, beginning to make his way over.
It was all happening faster than he could process it. Link couldn't put together what he was seeing — what for the rain and the sparks still darting around his brain. But with Dorian's insistence on this location, as well as the thief's compliance, it seemed as though this meeting was… premeditated. He wasn't sure which facet of his situation terrified him the most: the fact that he was staring down the thief, defenseless, or that Dorian was willingly handing him over to him.
How could he do this?! It didn't make any sense. They had gone together to take down the thief — why was Dorian selling him out? As much as he tried to sprain his brain to understand his reasoning, Link couldn't dwell on it, his mind wrenching him back into the moment.
He gulped down a mouthful of cold fear as he beheld the Yiga. He strode forward with a proud, strong gait, his fists swinging at his sides. The closer he approached, the taller he seemed to grow, eclipsing the surrounding saplings. He sported an intimidating, blood-red uniform: form-fitting, it hugged the mounds of rock-solid muscle bulging from his broad shoulders down to his sculpted, powerful legs. He came equipped with spiked gauntlets, a gold pauldron, and a colossal, sheathed sword hanging from his belt beside the Sheikah Slate. The only distinguishing physical feature on him was the plume of black hair sprouting from the hood over his head, as a pale mask shielded his face from view.
Link had no time to register that the Sheikah Slate was within his reach. No, his blood physically chilled when he caught sight of the symbol painted on the thief's mask. It was the all-too-familiar Sheikah eye, only… it was flipped. Somehow, the inverted symbol possessed an unrelenting stare of its own that pierced Link's chest with an icy knife, making his heart unravel. He suddenly found himself struggling to breathe in the thief's shadow.
He nearly choked when the Yiga spoke, his mask turned toward where he lay in the mud.
"Oh, Dorian, Dorian, what did you do?" the thief chuckled, his voice smooth, deep, and deceptively pleasant. He spoke as casually as if he were being presented with a surprise gift. He cocked his head and spread his hands, repeating, "What did you do?"
Dorian was less than impressed. He was easily a few heads shorter than the Yiga, but that didn't keep him from standing up to him. He merely scowled when he came to a stop before them. "I don't have time for your small talk," he grumbled. "Let's get this over with."
The Yiga cast up his palms with a shrug. "Hey, no need to rush me, old man. You're the one who called me up here at this godforsaken hour." A pang of horror stung Link's stomach at that, his eyes widening.
Now that pleasantries were aside, the Yiga continued, gesturing to Link, "I take it this is your… beast… you told me so much about?"
Dorian gave a mute nod.
Intrigued, the Yiga sunk low to the ground, where he peered at Link for a moment; he could feel his eyes on him through the mask, drinking in every detail he could see, as Link's face was half-submerged in mud.
Finally, the Yiga shrugged. "Doesn't look like much to me. Why don't you prop him up and let me have a look, old man? Just, uh, try not to hurt yourself doing it," he added with a smirk in his voice.
Dorian scoffed and ground his teeth, but nevertheless obeyed. Seizing a handful of Link's ponytail, he yanked him upright, presenting him, on his knees, before the Yiga. Link have a grunt in protest, but found himself immediately silenced when he came face-to-face with the thief himself.
Link's breath caught as the two of them locked gazes. Again, the twisted stare of the thief's mask unnerved him — he trembled beneath it as though it were hungrily sifting through his mind and body, pulling him apart. As thick droplets of rain rinsed the mud from Link's bone mask, the Yiga drew his head back in awe, a small gasp escaping his lips. He leaned forward, his eyes running from the tips of Link's horns, to the third eye set in his forehead, and down to his skeleton shining brilliantly through his torso.
"What'n the name of…?" the Yiga breathed, reaching for him. He slid his fingers beneath the sopping remains of Link's shirt and tore it completely down the middle, fully exposing his body. Link flinched back against the thief's touch as he ran his fingers down his chest, tracing along his ribcage with fascination.
Link, finding his breath again, spat at him through clenched teeth, "Don't touch me."
His words caught the Yiga by surprise, making him jump back a little as if broken out of a trance. He glanced up to Dorian briefly, snorting, "...So it talks. Well, color me impressed." He turned his gaze back to Link, asking politely, "Tell me, what's your name, beast?"
Link responded with a snarl. "Link. Now tell me who you think you are."
The thief rested his elbows on his knees, watching him for a moment. Eventually, he introduced himself. "I am Izer, elite Blademaster of the Yiga Clan. And I can't tell you how honored I am to meet you, Link. I've been waiting for this moment my whole life, if you can believe it."
"I don't," Link hissed.
Izer took Link's anger in-stride, replying coolly, "Good, because I'm not gonna bore you with my life's story, anyway. No, I'm here for you." He aimed a thumb to Dorian. "Dorian here's told me all about you. How you claim to be the hero I've been waiting for. How you barged into Kakariko, terrorized the little villagers, and snapped his arm like a twig."
Izer made grand, sweeping gestures with his hands as he spoke, painting Link's mind with his own actions over the last few days. It was like he was playing around inside Link's head — and he hated every second of it.
With a chuckle, Izer went on, "At first, I thought he'd finally gone senile — I mean, look at him — but… now that I get a look at you… ooh, I can see it. I bet you scared their little sandals off. Man, I wish I coulda seen that." He then reached for something on his belt. "But what I can't grasp is that you did all that… for this?"
He brought the Sheikah Slate forward.
Link couldn't hold back the desperate lurching deep inside him, then — he groaned and surged forward as if something were tugging at him from within. In spite of his reaction, Dorian's hand remained steady, straining against his ponytail and holding him back. In that same moment, the Slate flashed with crimson light and chirped, startling Izer to the point that he nearly dropped it.
Pausing, he turned it over in his hand, musing, "Huh. Would you look at that?" He looked to Link, almost waving it in his face. "The old man wasn't lying — you really, really want this, don't you?"
Another swell of violent desire pushed Link forward. He grimaced against the fire in his lungs, his thoughts clouding over. "Give it back. Please."
But Izer didn't. Instead, he rose to his feet, beginning to stroll around Link and Dorian like a wolf, his thoughts connecting. "Interesting…" he murmured, admiring the Slate.
"Y'know," he contemplated aloud. "In the short time I've had with this, I've realized something. There's something inside this device… Something obsessed with you." He knelt at Link's side, brandishing the Slate by his jaw. As he spoke, the Slate continued to give off spurts of light. "Even now, it clamors for you, desperate and wild. It needs you to survive. Needs your life, your breath, your blood. Without you, it will die. After seeing you, I can understand why…"
He ignored Link's squirming, holding the Slate before his face. Link had no choice but to turn his eyes on its screen, taking in the jumble of glyphs that were repeating endlessly across its surface in a frantic cry for help — a cry that echoed throughout his every cell in feverish unison.
"See those symbols, Link?" Izer cooed. Link's spine rattled at the way he said his name. "They're ancient Sheikah writing. Can you read them? What do they say?"
For some bizarre reason, Link understood them. He had never seen them, yet he understood them. He didn't like what was looking back at him. All the same, he refused to humor Izer — he was enjoying seeing him writhe, and he wouldn't give him the pleasure of a response. He firmed his mouth into a frown, wresting his gaze away.
Izer suddenly grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and shoved him forward, threatening, "Tell me what it says. I seem to have forgotten my ancient Sheikah."
Link, staring into the Slate, read back the single word repeating on the screen.
"Master."
It fell quiet for a moment. Thunder rumbled overhead. Even the Sheikah Slate had ceased screeching, perhaps cognizant of Link's presence.
Izer eventually spoke up, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Master, indeed. And it's written all over you, from those little horns…" he drifted off, tapping a fingertip on one of Link's horns. He then unsheathed Cado's sword from Link's hip and drew its blade across his abdomen in a split-second motion, making him flinch. Link gasped against the thin line of his glowing magenta blood oozing out of his skin.
Izer cast the sword aside, lapping up the sight of Link's blood, his voice low and hungry. "...allllll the way down to the Malice coursing through those veins. By god, if that ain't beautiful, I don't know what is." He placed the Sheikah Slate back onto his belt, murmuring, "Ooh, I cannot wait to take you back to base."
Link's face twisted into a caustic glare. "I'm not going anywhere with you," he spat, his jaw clenched. "You hurt Paya."
His remark gave Izer pause. He slowly leaned toward Link, purring, "Only a little."
He didn't even flinch when Link jerked forward, his breath rushing in and out of his bared teeth— Dorian held him back by the hair, again, reining him in.
"You'll pay for that!" Link snarled, his veins alight. "I swear it!"
Ignoring his outburst, Izer gave Link one last look-over and took to his feet, diverting his attention back to Dorian, who had flushed paler.
"I'll take him," Izer announced, much to the boiling of Link's blood.
Dorian's eyes tightened. "You remember our deal. The beast for the Slate. Now hand it over."
Izer fell statue-still, the stare of his inverted Sheikah eye delving into Dorian. Despite the Yiga's intimidating presence, Dorian held his ground.
...Until Izer spoke again.
"How old are your girls, now, old man? Getting big, I bet," he mused.
Both Dorian and Link's brows furrowed at his strange response, the Sheikah taking a step back. Without missing a beat, Izer continued, "It sure would be a shame if today was the last time they saw their daddy… after he dumped them on his neighbors so he could conspire with a Yiga, no less."
Link, his breath suddenly shallow, turned his eyes up to Dorian. He looked about to be sick, his face as white as his beard.
"I don't think you heard me, before," Izer went on, creeping towards them. "I said I'll take him." Crossing his arms, he stuck his mask into Dorian's nose. "Deal's off, old man. Your usefulness has come to an end, as must you. Give my love to your wife, won't you?"
As much as he despised him, Link had to give Izer his dues. The man, as tall, bulky, and imposing as he was, moved like a bolt of lightning. Before Dorian had time to even consider reacting, Izer thrust his palms into his sling with an audible crunch, shoving him over with enough force to split his fractured arm again.
Dorian hit the ground in a howling heap, clutching his sling. Link, barely braced for what was ensuing, froze in Izer's shadow as he loomed above him. Almost as if in slow motion, he watched him sidestep around him, unsheathe his enormous sword, and lunge toward Dorian, his blade aimed at his forehead.
Something overcame Link, then, bursting within his gut. It kick-started his muscles with an exhilarating rush. He sprung to his feet, tucked his knees to his chest, and brought his shackled hands from behind his back, under his feet, and around to his front in an almost effortless, fluid movement. Just as Izer's sword arced down to meet Dorian, Link stepped between them and shoved his hands skyward, the chain of his shackles catching Izer's blade.
The clang of metal on metal rang in their ears, destroying the silence and stiffening their spines. Three sets of eyes flew to the sword against Link's shackles. Izer himself, stood, stunned, while Dorian lay on the ground in similar condition, eyes wide and breathless. For a nearly eternal second, nobody moved.
Regaining control of himself, Link took advantage of Izer's stupefaction and sunk his heel into his stomach. Though he was solid as a wall, Link still sent him stumbling.
Following a quick glimpse at Cado's sword in the grass, Link clenched his fists and forcibly tore his wrists away from the other with a powerful shout. His muscles bulged and strained, sending bits of metal spraying in all directions as he shattered his shackles like they were nothing. Without his bonds to hinder him, he stooped, swept up the sword, and took a stance to face Izer.
He found the thief had taken a similar stance: knees sturdily apart, sword drawn. They watched each other for a brief moment before Izer tilted his head and whistled, bemused.
"Well, well, well!" he said. "That was impressive, I'll give you that. What else have you got?"
Link tightened his grip on Cado's sword. "Enough to send you back to whatever hole you crawled out of," he replied, glaring him down.
Izer shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. "Oh, don't start playing hero with me, kid. You're not seriously gonna stand up for that turncoat back there, are you? What's he ever done for you, huh? He only looks out for himself."
Link risked a fleeting glance to Dorian behind him. The man lay, petrified, in the grass at his feet.
"Trust me, kid," the Yiga went on. "Dorian is no stranger to betrayal. He'd do this again in a heartbeat if it meant saving his own skin. Word to the wise? Never trust a friendly face — their smiles are always crooked."
Link's blood curdled at Izer's words. He had trusted Dorian. Perhaps too prematurely. He found himself scowling at the old man, his insides twisting against themselves. Part of him knew that Izer had a point — Dorian had done nothing but make his life a nightmare. He assaulted him, battered him, vowed to kill him. Betrayed him. Why should he risk his life for him?
That was enough reason for Link to consider stepping aside and allowing Izer to finish what he started. But a small voice in his head nagged at him; it felt wrong, letting him face the end of Izer's blade. Not when he had a family, a village, children that needed him… Who was he to pass on that judgement?
Izer's voice crept back into Link's mind, nudging at his doubts. "Don't waste your time on him, Link. You've got a greater purpose. It runs through your veins." He brandished the Sheikah Slate, again coaxing something within Link. "Come with me," he promised, "and I'll make sure you get this back. It needs you. Calamity Ganon needs you."
A shiver rolled through Link's spine, his skin tingling. Izer took notice and smiled, purring, "You were hand-picked for this role, kid. Think of what an honor that is! All you gotta do is stand down and come with me, and we'll make history. It's that simple."
Link's heart thrummed in his chest as he held Dorian's gaze. The man beneath him wasn't the vengeful traitor he had ascended the mountain with — no, he was weak, exposed, in pain. Terrified of the monster looming above him. The longer Link stood, the more his bitter expression slackened. He suddenly felt as though he was standing before Dorian's oldest daughter, again, driving her into mortal terror. He couldn't be that person — that beast. He just couldn't.
He pursed his lips, swallowing. "You're right," he said, to Izer's delight. "It is simple. And nothing you say can change the role I'm meant to play." Link whipped his head around to him, his eyes tight and a fire lighting in his stomach.
"But you're wrong about me. I am a champion of Hyrule. The Princess's knight," he proclaimed. Izer stiffened. "I may have failed to protect the kingdom once, but I won't fail again — no matter what I carry inside me." He aimed his sword at the Slate on Izer's belt. "I came up here to take back what you stole and make you pay. Stand down, or I'll strike you down myself."
Izer's shoulders slumped. He released a disappointed sigh. "You just had to go all goody-goody, didn't you?" Rolling his eyes, he huffed, "I really didn't want it to come to this, kid, but you leave me no choice. You're either coming back to base with me quietly, or I'm breaking your legs and dragging you. Take your pick."
Link remained stalwart, sword drawn and expressionless.
Izer straightened his posture. "Fine. Have it your way, hero." He took a few careful steps forward, Link following suit. Pacing around the glade, he began, "All my life, I was spoon-fed your stories. I've waited a long time for this. Do not betray my expectations."
As ready as Link thought he was to face the Yiga thief, he quickly realized that he was grossly underprepared. Izer had no sooner uttered his last words before he was barreling towards him like a crimson storm.
He swung his sword with an almighty roar. Link barely managed to catch the blow with his own blade, underestimating Izer's strength — his knees buckled, the shockwave of his swing resounding through him like an earthquake.
Izer held Link there for a split second, grinning beneath his mask. He hadn't had an opponent like Link in a while. He would enjoy this.
Scraping his blade against Link's, he pulled back and swung again, aiming for his jugular. Link's sword again met his opponent's — he steadied himself that time, planting his feet on the ground. Trying to gain the upper hand, he grunted and threw his weight into his shoulders, pushing Izer off of him, advancing. With each swing of his sword, Link pushed Izer further toward the treeline, clanging and sparking as they went.
Izer snickered between blows, "I think your hundred-year beauty nap made ya soft, Link. Is that all you got?"
Link didn't dignify him with a response, though his words still stirred his hatred. He lunged forward, teeth bared and eyes alight, going for Izer's neck. The Yiga moved with an agility that didn't suit his bulky frame — he slunk out of the way, Link's momentum causing him to teeter. Regaining his footing, he whipped around, only not quickly enough. Before he could raise his sword to counter, the hilt of Izer's sword bored into his temple with a wet thud.
Link cried out, stumbling. Through slightly-blurred vision he blindly swung his sword into open air. Izer steered clear, launching his boot into Link's side and sending him crashing into a nearby tree. The bark smashed against his ribs, the impact showering him with water droplets. Fighting against the blow, he opened his eyes to catch the silver blur of Izer's sword as it sped toward him. With reflexes even he couldn't explain, he ducked just as the sword sunk into the tree, lodging itself deep.
"Ah, crap," Izer grunted.
The tree groaned as he attempted to free his weapon. Seeing an opportunity, Link swung his sword at Izer's hip, only for the Yiga to catch the blade with his gauntlet.
"Not so fast — !" he jeered. He reared a leg and thrust his heel into Link's knee — it bent at a sickening angle, his bones visibly misaligning with a pop.
A hoarse wail ripped out of Link's throat. He dropped his sword, his hands flying to his knee, distracting him for a moment. Fortunately, Izer distracted himself, as well, diverting his attention to retrieving his own sword. Biting back the pain, Link rerouted his strength to his good leg and propelled himself into Izer, tackling him to the ground.
They struggled and rolled, knotted into each other. For a moment or two, Link had him by surprise, managing to land a few punches into his throat. Izer sputtered and choked beneath him, but quickly caught on. He snatched Link's fist before he could sink in another hit.
"Gotta hand it to you, kid," Izer grinned. "You just don't back down. I like that." With a hearty grunt, he forced both of their fists into Link's jaw. Link's head snapped back, his ears ringing. Through the stars dancing around his vision, he had no way to anticipate Izer's next move as he swung his center of gravity, upending them.
Izer flipped the two of them over until he was crouched above Link, where he bashed his head into the grass. Eyes rolling, Link clawed in vain at Izer's gauntlets as he wrapped both hands around his neck. Izer applied just enough pressure to keep him gasping, but not enough to make him black out. He wasn't finished with him, yet.
Now that he had him where he wanted him, Izer spoke again. "The Yiga Clan could use more fighters like you, Link. Especially like you," he said, brushing his thumb against his Adam's apple. Link's blood burned in his veins. "You've put up quite a fight, but you could be so much more. Come back to base with me, and we'll mold you into what you're destined to become." Leaning in closer, he tightened his grip. "All I need is a yes."
"NO!" Link coughed, channeling his rage into landing a teeth-rattling kick to Izer's groin.
Izer howled in his face, his hold on him loosening in an instant. Link scrambled away as quickly as he could with his bad knee, a grin of crude satisfaction warping his lips. With Izer thoroughly preoccupied — he proceeded to fill the air with a string of expletives — Link sought out Cado's sword, lying somewhere in the grass.
He hobbled back to where he remembered dropping it — the tree with Izer's sword sticking out of it. His knee shrieked with even the slightest amount of weight he dared put on it as he made his way over, his face strained. Thankfully, the sword glittered up at him before he collapsed. Doubling over, he scooped it up and slumped against the tree trunk, ready to go another round.
That was when he noticed something. It had gone quiet. Too quiet. He could hear the rain, again, tapping against the leaves.
Wait, he panicked, his eyes flying to and fro. Then he noticed something else — something was missing. He abruptly found himself in an empty glade.
Izer was gone.
His heart, up until then hammering incessantly, skipped several beats. His jaw dropped. He cursed himself for turning his back on his opponent. Desperate to find him, again, he limped out a few steps into the clearing, his head rotating left and right. Where could he have gone?
Link nearly jumped out of his skin when a terrific blast pounded his ears. He whirled around in time to see Izer materialize like a ghost out of a burst of smoke, flying at him with a ferocious warcry. While Link's back was turned, he had reclaimed his sword. It gleamed evilly as he swung it like a madman, over and over.
Their swords clashed with a shower of sparks. Five, six, seven times. Link scarcely caught one blow before Izer delivered the next, hacking away at his blade. With each step back he took against Izer's advancement, his knee wobbled and twinged with pain. It was all he could do to both hold himself up and block his attacker, praying he wouldn't lose his footing.
Izer brought his sword down one more time, holding it there. He leaned against his blade, bearing down on Link until he started to sweat, his muscles groaning.
"That was a dirty move, kid," Izer hissed. "I didn't think good guys like you played dirty." Pausing, he cocked his head, continuing, "But... you're not a good guy, are you? Nah, you're just playing pretend!"
He plunged his knee into Link's gut, cutting off his attempt at a rebuttal. Link sprained his arms to shake him away, but the Yiga forced his weight upon him. His knee and his sword began to creak, his knee threatening to give out. He'd be a goner if he let that happen.
In a last-ditch effort to push him off, Link swerved his shoulders, their swords grinding together. But he was losing steam — he didn't have the strength to fully shove him away.
Izer, however, was running on rage. Undaunted, he raised and plunged his sword into Link's once more with all his might. Link's body held, but his sword didn't. The harrowing sound of splintering metal met their ears. Before their eyes, Link's sword fragmented, leaving behind a ragged stump of metal.
Izer didn't hesitate to finish off his prey. He beat away the broken sword with the back of his hand, swinging his fist in a wicked arc into Link's cheek. He stumbled, dazed, his brain sloshing in his skull. He nearly bit the tip of his tongue off when Izer kneed his chin, his head whiplashing into his shoulders. For his final blow, Izer brutally kicked Link in the ribs, sending him crashing, end over end, several feet until he rolled to a stop on his front.
A croak of pain slithered out of Link's throat. He raised his head, his eyes pinched shut against the sickening throbbing between his temples.
Izer drank in the sight of him lying limp in the grass. "And here I thought you'd actually prove to be a challenge," he spat. "Some hero you think you are. You can pretend all you want that you're gonna save this godless kingdom, but you'll fail. Just like you did one hundred years ago."
Link peeled his eyes open, a scowl finding his battered face. "I won't," he groaned. "I won't fail."
"Yes, you will," Izer said. "There's no use fighting what's been placed inside you. You've seen its power, felt its rage. And no matter how much you try, and crawl, and squirm to disobey him, you will fail."
As Link glared at Izer, something foul brewed inside him. It was thick and volatile, growing more and more unhinged with every syllable that came out of the Yiga's mouth. Link's fists knotted up, and he began to drag himself to his hands and knees with a newfound strength, his pulse thudding in his ears. His body shook, the glow of his bones gradually growing more intense.
"I won't," he repeated, his voice taking on something that wasn't him.
"Yes, you will!" Izer fired back.
Whatever was brewing within Link detonated at that, flowing through him like an all-encompassing flood. It deluged his blood with adrenaline, electrifying his every cell in a spectacle of fury he had never felt before. His anger mutated inside him, manifesting itself in a twisting, tentacle-like mass of Malice-laced black sludge that burst out of his shoulder and coated his arm like a living weapon. It was exhilarating.
"NO, I WON'T!" Link roared like a beast.
Oblivious to his injuries, he dove forward, thrusting his Malice-arm straight at Izer. The thief only had the time to take in a split-second gasp before Link's Malice punched clean through his abdomen, tearing through muscle, organ, and bone like an avalanche.
Link ground to a halt, dangling Izer in the air. In a blind frenzy, he began to drag him across the glade, bashing him into trees. The Yiga became a human battering ram, his body breaking with every branch, trunk, and bough he bulldozed through. The combined noise of wood splintering and bones shattering sent the local wildlife scattering.
By that point, Izer had fallen limp. Link, consumed by his anger, was swept out of his tunnel vision when he noticed Izer's limp form impaled on the end of his Malice-arm. He abruptly came back to himself, gazing in horror at the abomination coming out of him.
"Stop — STOP! Oh, god, STOP!" he cried, clawing at it with his normal hand. It was thick and sinewy like muscle. It felt so wrong, and yet… so right.
Somehow, his change of heart dismantled it — it shivered and fell apart, dripping into the grass and dropping Izer. Link was overcome with a wave of vertigo. He collapsed, struggling to find his breath amidst his accelerated heartbeat and visceral horror at what he had just done.
He sat for a moment, crushed beneath the silence. Then he heard a faint sound, almost like wheezing. It crescendoed into hacking, bloody coughing that yanked his attention to its source: the now-moving figure of Izer.
Link gaped at him, stirring where he lay. The Yiga hauled himself up on his elbows, shaking uncontrollably, his eyes behind his battered mask finding Link. He found with shock that Izer's countenance had completely changed — he wasn't coughing. He was laughing.
"Incredible!" he wheezed. "You — absolutely incredible!" He began to drag himself across the ground with immense difficulty, grunting against his decimated skeleton and punctured organs. But they didn't stop him from creeping closer to Link, who was too paralyzed to move.
Izer successfully dragged himself within arm's-reach of him, croaking out, "You fail as a hero, but conquer — as a beast!" His hand shot out and grabbed hold of Link's ankle, cackling, "Link, what's inside you?! Ahahahaha!"
Link's stomach twisted and he jerked his leg away, scooting back. He had only made it a foot or so before he watched a shudder rip through Izer's body like a wave. He froze, his eerie mask fixed upon Link.
Izer's hand suddenly flew to the hole in his abdomen. He heaved, fighting against something rising up his throat. Without provocation, he proceeded to spit up a mouthful of something hot and thick into his mask. Link, disturbed, could only watch as he coughed up more of it, only for another swell of it to overwhelm him.
Izer flopped over, reaching for his mask and breathing heavily. He lifted his mask partially, exposing his mouth as he threw up a puddle of dense, black sludge onto the grass.
He fought to breathe around his rising horror. "Link!?" he gurgled, turning his face to him. "Link, what did you do to me? Urgh…!"
A haunting moan of torture tore out of Izer as he began to writhe against the Malice bubbling inside him. His splintered spine arched, his fingers clawing at the ground in a futile attempt to alleviate the pain. He screamed until blood filled his lungs. Like a voracious acid, the Malice Link had infected him with devoured his organs and bones, the ensuing slurry spilling out of his gaping abdominal wound and gushing out of his mouth between his screams.
Link couldn't help but join in with his screaming, backing away as fast as his limbs would take him. Izer, desperate for relief, crawled after him, reaching out for help.
"Please — please!" he plead.
Link strained to pull his eyes away but couldn't bring himself to, for some reason. He ran his gaze up and down Izer's body, confused and horrified to see that his uniform was deflating. Link's Malice consumed his body from his muscle tissue down to his very skin, reducing him to the bubbling black and magenta sludge oozing across the grass. In the spanse of a brief minute, Izer's screams had faded into gurgles, his empty uniform falling flat in the last position he took: one arm outreached, begging for mercy.
And then he was gone.
Link stared, petrified, at what remained of the Yiga thief. Then he turned over and threw up.
OH MY GOSH, THAT WAS INSANE! What did you think?! Was it worth the wait?! I certainly hope so!
It kinda bummed me out to introduce and kill Izer in the same chapter, but he certainly made waves. I don't think Link will forget his encounter with him. I know I won't! He was a joy to write.
If you liked this chapter, I'd love to hear your feedback! Until then, I'll see you in the next chapter. :)
Thanks for reading! You're THE BEST!