Warning!: Read at your own discretion!
Etched Into
He quickly took in the fact that he was in a circular pit of sand in the middle of the room. Behind him was a wall full of terrifying metal and wooden instruments that came in an array of shapes and sizes. They were clearly meant for torturing subjects. In front of him was a wall with a section of spikes protruding from it. Below this were grates meant for draining blood. The wall to his right held a raging fire that made the metal rods that stuck out of it red-hot. And finally, to his left was the doorway into the dungeon.
His hands were chained to the floor, explaining why he was able to awake on his side. The simple act of breathing felt awful. It was without a doubt that his ribs were bruised, if not severely. His head relentlessly pounded as his overall being pulsed in aching pain, and the fire-provided lighting made it hard to tell if he was truly bruised beyond compare or just seeing things. Hunger had clawed a pit in his stomach and his tongue felt like rubber.
'Of course…' The icing on the cake was a short draft of scorching air that reminded him he'd been stripped of his clothes, save for his shorts. How kind. This information felt like something he knew had happened, but he couldn't place exactly when it did. As he shuffled around to get from his side onto his feet, the skin that had been pressed into the sand felt especially raw. Attempting to sigh at regaining a memory made him sharply inhale instead, 'I remember reading something back in the previous universe that said "the best way to keep your prisoners keen, is to keep them in misery. Any warmth they'll take and never give anything in return."' He shook his head…hell even that hurt, 'Something something, "War is cruel…" blah blah blah.'
He slowly blinked as his gaze trailed toward the wooden door, 'How long have I been here? I can still feel seconds and minutes, but I can't tell what time of day it is.' A bead of sweat fell down the side of his face as a blademaster and two footmen appeared in front of him.
The bigger brute held a torch, "Finally woke up it seems."
He could tell by their voices that the other two were women, "About time! It was getting boring beating the shit out of something that can't scream!"
"Right? It's so much fun when they start sounding more like animals than people!"
'Dear Goddesses, it's a damn wonder they didn't cut me open and leave me to bleed out!' This could not bode well for him.
The blademaster raised his hand to cease their sadistic blabbering, "Oi, remember our purpose." He passed his torch to the one on the left, cracking his knuckles, "So, little one," He loomed over him, "We've taken nearly everything you had on you. Why didn't we find your little mask?"
Young Link simply stared back at him. In the blink of an eye, his sights were abruptly cast to the right from a hefty backhand. From that he learned his eyes and parts of his face were bruised and tender.
With the other two now snickering, the brute still sounded composed, "I do not think it wise to act stoic now, Hero of Time. You are still small. You are still mortal." The symbol on the mask lowered to be directly in front of his face, "You may look like a child, but if I must leave you within a breath of your life to get your mask…" He leaned in closer, his low-pitched whisper sounding more like a rumble, "I will do it."
This did not bode well indeed.
His two lackeys teleported to his sides and held him still. For two hours he endured simply staring ahead while each question he refused to answer resulted in another shape or symbol of some sort being carved into his chest by a dull, whittling knife. Oddly meticulous about whatever they wrote, he'd catch himself counting the seconds it took before it was over. They'd quickly run out of room on his chest and had moved lower to his ribs.
"Where is it!?" The blademaster bellowed, his deep voice ringing something like a growl off the walls. The way he'd go from snarling to ominously inflicting more scores was enough to make someone go mad.
'This is agonizing…' His dark blue eyes were just as hollow as his mind had become. The shitty knife just grazing the skin around his ribs sent waves of excruciating pain up and down his entire torso. The threat of passing out was high. He felt like he teetered on the verge from the sheer will it took to make involuntary reactions remain a deadened haze at the ceiling. 'Gods forbid they make it down to my stomach before they get tired of this nonsense. I don't know how much of this I can take…'
The only thing that was even vaguely amusing was how his silence really pissed off the blademaster. In the next instance, it lost its minute charm. His tormenter mercilessly slashed a surface level gash that cut straight across his midriff. For the first time he was unable to control the harsh way his upper body constricted, all the while the sudden intake of hot air made him gag. He vomited blood, it partially splashing up from the sand and onto the legs of those surrounding him—as well as himself. Still, after regaining what little was left of his composure, no words left his mouth.
This enraged the man beyond belief. He yelled so loudly the echo off the walls likely hurt his own ears, which pissed him off even more. The brute stomped over to the wall of torture devices and yanked off the same spiked circular weapon he'd seen the other footmen use. Before he could bring the Hero as close to death as he promised, the two women at his sides had started making snide comments once his back was turned. "Hmmm, I bet it's maybe in the Princess's room."
"Oh ho ho! Look at his face! It certainly must be!"
In fact his face hadn't changed at all. Much less he refused to look at them.
Now they giggled, "Oooohhh~ the things we could do to her!"
The other cackled at the thought, "Why even wait for night either? I think we ought to catch her off guard and—"
Fortunately, this held the attention of the blademaster. Unfortunately, their slew of actions they'd proceed to do to the Princess were so graphic and detailed, you'd be left to wonder if there was some sort of twisted attraction going on from the both of them. 'Gods…they're sadistic and sapphic? I wish I could rip my ears off so I don't have to listen to this.' It was obvious that this was their attempt at psychologically making him want to answer, if not egging him on to cut them off or plead for them to stop—to say or do anything. He put his focus on the blood that dripped from his chin and rolled over his fresh wounds.
Minutes later, it would seem that it got too graphic for their superior after they'd crossed a certain line of degeneracy. Perhaps it's worth mentioning that, within a few seconds, they'd already fell past the "fucked up" level of kinks.
He pulled at some of the straps around the neck of his armor, "Ugh, enough with your foul words, both of you. That may entertain the men but save your specific desires for a room where the walls do not echo. It is like hearing it fourfold more than necessary." His gaze flicked back to the Hero, "Count yourself lucky for now. If not for this display, I might have had you searching for your own toes and lapping up your own shortcomings." While the other two disappeared, his last act against him was grabbing his left hand and stabbing the whittling knife through it, leaving the blade sticking out of his palm. Then he walked toward the door, stopping shortly after cracking it open, "I will be back."
Of course, he tried to reach over with his right hand to remove it. Of course, the chains were too short to allow his fingers to even cut themselves on the edge of the knife. Utterly disgraceful, yet he could find respect for the intelligence behind the method.
No longer than ten or fifteen minutes had passed before another body appeared in front of him. He looked menacing, he was probably even taller than the blademaster! Beefier too! Unlike the other stronger footmen, the hair that stuck out of his head was parted in half. It kinda looked like an 'M.' His mask still had the typical symbol on it, but from its sides sprouted long, thin horns as well as yellow 'tusks' that came forward. He wielded two swords.
"Khoga."
A fatter one sent the loose sand scattering as he appeared beside him. His mask had two horns on either side that sprouted away from it. This was clearly the guy who's in charge of everything. "Really? This little snot-nosed shit is what's been killing all of us?" His voice was very emotive, showman-like even. It was a sharp juxtaposition to his stronger lackey.
He spoke with a deeper and more dignified tone, "Master, his legend that we took from the Hylians. This is—"
"Oh right, the Hero of Time. Killed Master Ganon and that Majora thingamabob, right?" He sounded unimpressed. "Made for a very boring bedtime story."
The sudden stiffness the other exuded gave away his surprise, "P-Precisely."
He crossed his legs and sat on the air, scrutinizing the Hero in front of him, "Hmph, still looks like a kicked-down puppy to me. I know he's seen his glory days, but this is pathetic." Master Khoga started to reach out to touch him when his guard snatched his hand.
"Master, I understand that you think very little of him, but he's still killed several of our brethren. I advise you with caution."
"Tsk, you call it a killing; I call it a culling! How weak they all must have been to fall to this child of all things!" He briefly touched the ground to stamp his foot, "Embarrassing! That's what it is!" His hand came to his chin in thought, "Now…whatever do we do with him, hm?"
"I suggest we keep him here. It will lure the Princess to say the least, and where she goes, her knight will follow."
He snapped his fingers, "I've got it! We shall keep him trapped down here! That way, he lures the snobby Princess and her stupid knight straight to us! Sooga! I am a genius!"
"Absolutely! Master, that's a wonderful idea!"
With that, the leader of the entire Yiga Clan left.
Young Link had no idea what to think after experiencing the conversation that unfolded in front of him. What took the cake was the leader outright stealing Sooga's idea and then him immediately, no pause, hopping on praising him for his wit. Wild.
Sooga's muttering sounded far worse than the previous blademaster's. It was by far one of the most inherently threatening voices he'd ever heard…next to Hylia's, technically. Now that they were alone together, he could only expect more pain to follow.
"Khoga may have his opinions, but I can see the strength, the determination, in those beady eyes of yours, Hero." He appeared to gaze at the damage done to his chest before leaning down until his mask was but a centimeter away from his face, "Haven't been cooperating, hm? I will give you one last chance to make yourself useful: where is your little mask?"
Time opened his mouth to act as if he was getting ready to say something, instead spitting a gob of blood onto Sooga's mask. A thin string of spit connected it back to his lips.
A few silent seconds passed with their gazes locked on one another. The flickers from the raging fire echoed off the walls.
Then the man began to maniacally laugh, creating deafening oscillations off the sandstone interior. His arms swung out, "Well then! Let me give you a proper welcome into the clan! Normally, bearing this mark is an honor for any aspiring Yiga—"
The built up sweat on his forehead started to pour down his face as two footmen appeared on either side of him. They shoved him to his knees and yanked his wrists into the air, forcing him to turn his back to the enemy and stare at the wall with the doorway. 'Oh holy shit...oh no no no…' Both of his ears shot upwards at hearing the man's routine steps grow closer to the fire and the clank of metal tapping the ashen gates that kept the kiln from spilling onto the floor.
"For you, it will be a reminder of your weakness. A reminder that you've forever forsaken Ganon and Master Khoga."
Now his own heart rate surged as he felt the sweltering heat grow closer and closer. He tried to save face and keep his heroic mannerisms, but it was proving difficult when he knew he was about to get branded! His vision flashed white when the seething poke was forcefully pressed into his right shoulder. A breathless gasp was all that left his mouth.
No screams.
No turmoil.
No sign to give any indication that they've broke him.
"Hmph," Sooga tossed the instrument to the ground, its clang leaving a haunting echo to reverberate around the room, "I'm impressed, knowing that this child form you take is but a façade. Most would have fallen to the ground, and yet here you still stand." He snarled at his own words before he left along with the footmen.
The Hero of Time panted as the mark bubbled and ignited every pain receptor in his back, shoulder, and arm. His spirit felt weakened, worn out from excessive strain.
But faltering was not an option.
So he remained standing on his knees, even as his chained arms heftily swung down to his sides, 'This is a lot of trouble to go through in order to get my things back…' He knew the easy way out, but there's simply no way he'd leave with everything if he used it.
'Right...what now?' His eyes had begun to twitch in time with the ebbing pain. 'I need to get out of these chains, find my shit—notably my ocarina and clothes—and possibly kill at least Sooga...maybe Khoga. Though, something tells me that fat bastard is the leader for a reason.' He rolled his eyes, 'Well, he's not a god so—' Time caught himself, 'Ugh, shut up me. Don't think for three seconds that we're going down that path.' He strained against the chains that bound him, 'We're only using it because it's sort of the only way I'm going to make it out of here alive!'
But the most strategic thing to do first was wait. Wait in case more show up. Wait in case someone peeks in. He eventually lowered himself to sit in the sand after a half hour passed. If no one was going to come in that time, theoretically he must have some time left to get the chains off before the blademaster comes back. Sitting allowed his hands to come together.
With little thought, he quickly pulled the knife from his left hand, wincing at the stinging sensation it brought. It wasn't too long before it ebbed away, though. Being his Triforce hand, the slit instantly closed in the next minute or two. Racking his brain for ways to release his hands, he first considered using the knife to break the chain itself. However, after flicking at the crimson blade, it became apparent that the plan would have broke it before any progress was made, let alone leave enough durability to do the same for his right hand.
'Shit…it's not as if I can reach that wall with all the tools…' There was a hanging pair of pliers that could have easily snapped the chains…and his fingers if he didn't hurry. Then his eyes caught the sight of the fire once more, 'Aha! What if I…?' He watched the palm of his right hand ignite and held it under the rusted chains. Little time passed before they started to glow red. He squinted, 'The chains would be the easiest to melt, but then I'd be easily trackable just from the sound alone...' Biting the inside of his cheek, he brought the flame up the shackle itself.
In an instant the fire disappeared as he clutched his wrist, "Ffff—ah!" He hissed, taking as deep of breaths as his ribs would painfully allow. 'Goddesses above…I really hope I don't have to do this to myself.' Time stared back at the whittling blade before relentlessly searching for some method that wouldn't injure him further. Still finding himself unsuccessful and beginning to feel the weight of each passing second, another idea budded in his mind, 'What are the chances that I can quickly turn into a deity and then quickly turn back?'
To be frank, they were not high, and he knew it. However, the notion brought one last potential plan before he resorted to melting the cuffs off. Using his right hand once more, he was able to slip his fingers around either end of it. Gripping as hard as he could, he tried to use whatever strength he had left to pull the shackle in hopes of it breaking in two. He strained against the force he exerted on the metal, feeling it start to bend ever so slightly. Becoming a little desperate, he tried to keep calm as he used the smallest amount of his power he could manage to let slip.
Kchink!
It broke into a couple of shards that landed in the sand.
A wavering smile tugged at his cheeks as he hurried to do the same with the right. However, as he started to infuse his otherworldly strength into his grip, he could feel the power slip ever so slightly into being too much. Once more, relief crashed like a wave into his shoulders as he heard the other shackle break without his true form bursting out.
'Idiots,' He rubbed his wrists, watching the sand that created small cuts and divots into his skin fall to the ground, 'You should have chained my feet too.' Tears of anger started to prick at his eyes as he stood up. The Hero stilled them as he padded over to the door, his heart beginning to race once his hand wrapped around knob, 'Goddesses above, please don't let there be someone on the other side of this door.' If he were taller, he could have checked through the sliding window. From what he could hear, he couldn't sense another person on the other side, or around him in general.
Another quiet sigh of solace came when his ears didn't betray him. Taking a step forward, his hand clasped over his mouth as the need to cough came soaring through his chest. He could barely stifle it, feeling blood bubble out of the corners of his lips. After quickly recollecting himself, he left the torture room behind him, using his ears to listen for any and all signs of life as he limped away.
Their hideout was dim. Little light was provided by the scarce lanterns that were hung from the ceiling, all of which had the inverted Sheikah symbol on them, of course. The Hero's intuition led him to his left, the sound of hearts and voices starting to grow louder as he approached an opening in the wall. A pair of footmen were currently facing away from the door, and they were in the middle of a conversation. On the table sat his ocarina. Taking advantage of their gazes being elsewhere, Time quickly hid behind a couple of large jars as he waited for another opening.
"Man, I really have no idea how we haven't managed to kill the Princess yet," one said, crossing his arms.
"I have no idea how we've served Ganon for so long and he's not back yet,' The other replied, sounding almost annoyed.
"It's not our fault that the bitch's wretched mother could actually use her powers!"
"Right...I forgot…"
Now he leaned forward, sounding inquisitive, "Do we know how she died? I don't feel like we were ever told."
"Mmm…" the other held his chin in his hand as he thought, "Damn, I don't think we ever were. Maybe one of the blademasters know."
He raised a glass, "To hell with asking them about anything, let's drink over the fact that she's dead and we've got that brat in our hands!"
Tok.
They knocked their wooden mugs together and took a swig of the contents inside. Based on the smell alone, it must have been a sort of alcohol. The same one who initiated the toast continued to speak, "Now, what we really should do next is take control of that divine beast."
His buddy nodded this way and that, "That would be a good plan if it weren't protected by the Goddess. I'm pretty sure that's what I've heard anyways…"
He threw a hand in the air, "Oh for fucks sake! Fuck their little Goddess that hears nothing of their prayers! They're talking to thin air. She does nothing but watch. I will convince Master Khoga that stealing it is a good idea. Imagine the revenge we could exact!" The alcohol must have inspired this display of passion.
"You've got a point. Maybe we—"
"Guys!" Another footman appeared in the doorway sounding frantic, "That piece of shit escaped!"
The one that was interrupted crossed his arms, "God dammit. I had a feeling that beating the shit out of him that first day or so wasn't a good idea."
"Shut the fuck up!" the footman in the doorway shouted, "He could be anywhere by now! Besides, you're the one that got the first sucker punch on him when he first opened his eyes. That should have been me!"
Young Link's eyes narrowed, 'I was kicked around for an entire day?' His hand came up to his mouth, 'So I was knocked out for at least one since they took me…what time is it now?' Learning this information from them was daunting all on its own. He watched them warp away before tiptoeing out from behind the jars and ripping his instrument from the table. Glad to see they didn't remove the twine he used to keep it attached to his belt, he was forced to stuff it into the waistband of his shorts. 'I'll have to keep in mind what they said about the late queen and the divine beast.'
Knowing that the clan was on high alert further stressed that he remained hidden and unseen. He kept as low to the floor as he could, finding that being barefoot actually benefited him here. It made his steps nearly silent, even if stepping on the occasional pebble shot pain up his shins.
Minutes later, he stumbled across a footman who kept watch over a set of stairs. Time blinked, 'I've never felt like I needed to go up a set of stairs so bad in my entire life…' He glanced at his hands, 'Dammit! I should've taken that stupid knife with me!' Looking to the floor, he found a clump of sand between his feet, now shaking his head as he reared his arm back to throw it at the wall beside the guard. He knew the footman would instead look in the direction it was thrown from, rather than look to the wall. He used the ninja's briefly lowered guard to launch himself at him and push his neck against the steps.
The Yiga tried to gargle out a yell.
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" He hissed, his hands igniting while still attempting to choke the footman. Seconds after, he felt the man's body go limp between his fing—wait his fingers were touching. His eyes fluttered as he looked down and found his hands around the Yiga's charred spinal cord. Irked, he hopped away from the body and scrambled up the stairs. He caught himself on the doorway that led into a bedroom, his ears detecting one heart that was slowly beating, 'They're sleeping…' He peered inside, finding Master Khoga himself snoring softly as he slept in his massive, lavish bed.
No really, it almost took up the entire wall. Past the foot of it was a large vanity that held a few candles to light the dim room. Their wax puddled off the edge and dripped onto the floor. Beside that was a table that had the Hero's clothes lazily thrown upon it, his boots laid on their sides. It also held a spread of pages, some of which had also decorated the ground.
Controlling his breathing, Time silently slipped inside. His eyes held the glint of a murderer as he stalked over to the Master's bedside. 'I should kill you…' The deity thought, and Khoga would have violently died had his assailant forgot to consider his actions. It's likely that several search parties were already out looking for him. There was no guarantee that he'd be able to commit the crime without summoning every force they had. 'Not to mention, I can only imagine the war that would cause between us and them. A war on top of the impending Calamity would make things far worse than they already are.' So he didn't, choosing to instead walk in the direction of his clothes, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
And what a pitiful reflection his eyes surveyed. Bruises of all sizes and various colors to denote their stage cloaked his skin. Especially his wrists, torso, and face. He could see where perhaps their curiosity took a turn and they decided to nick and scratch him with sharp things in his coerced state of unconsciousness. Dried lines of old blood made note of those. Of course, the fresher ones from when he was first allowed to be awake for longer than a few seconds still oozed and seeped. They had yet to heal. Finally, his gaze fell from the nuance to take in that he was absolutely covered in sand. So much sand. A fine layer of it, along with dust, coated him from top to bottom.
Yet.
The glare that pierced back at his own was one that is fierce and diligent. Courageous. Eager, he turned around and observed the new brand come into view from over his shoulder. 'I suppose if I were someone else, this should make me feel awful about myself,' he mentally shrugged, for it otherwise would have hurt, 'If I'm frank, I let this disgusting mark happen to me.' His eyes squinted in distaste as they perused the pink raised edges that signified the clan's symbol that'd been soldered into his skin.
His eyelids rid him of such a sight, 'Enough.' He quietly exhaled, maneuvering the tunic around in his hands, 'There's little use in getting riled up about nothing. This mark is but a dent in my character, if at all.' He shoved his clothes on before taking a moment to glance at the scattered papers. 'Damn, I still really can't read this language.'
Time's curiosity went no further than figuring out if the plethora of pages was his legend. He couldn't take it with him even if he wanted to. It would have been far too loud. Spying the ones on the floor, he could just barely make out a sketch of Majora in the scarce light, 'I suppose that tells me enough.' He crouched, holding a single, calm flame on the tip of his finger. With it he set the corner of a page on fire, lighting one other that was on the table. He took his leave without waking the Master, 'If I'm lucky, the entire room will catch on fire.'
Back to using his intuition as his sense of direction, he found a ladder and scaled it, finding a hallway. The bruises on his legs made it difficult to bring himself to a jog, but the sense of freedom seemed to be just around each corner. Granted, he did not expect them to trap their hallways. Young Link slipped onto his back as he skid to a stop, yanking his foot away from the spikes that clashed together. They came from both the floor and the ceiling! 'Gods, no wonder they teleport everywhere! I wouldn't want to put up with this shit in my own base either!'
When he first started to run, his tunic uncomfortably rubbed against the open wounds inflicted on his chest. This agitated them into oozing more blood, for now the chest of his tunic was brown as it clung to his skin. For better or worse he'd have to decide later. After leaving one room and briefly crossing through a hall into another, he could tell he just cornered himself. He whipped around to leave when Sooga appeared behind him, towering over him as he strode forward and blocked the way out.
Khoga's right-hand man was livid. His breath steamed out of either side of his mask as he huffed and puffed. "The little Hero escaped…"
A massive group of footmen and blademasters warped into the room, encasing the both of them together in a wide circle.
"He found his things…" His rasp turned into a snarl as he began to pace, "You stepped into my Master's room, didn't you!?"
Young Link was in the middle of taking a cautionary step back when a pair of hands shoved him forward. His eye twitched as he glared back at his opponent.
"Answer me!" He bellowed, his chest quickly rising and falling with each breath.
"…"
He stopped moving. A new emotion soaked the room, "Y-You killed him…didn't you?"
The Hero still didn't answer, 'Saying yes is bad, and saying no is also bad. Just skip to the part where I kick your ass!' He felt the raw emotion of anguish settle into the hearts that beat around him.
Sooga rested his hand on one of his blades, "You will pay for your actions…"
This was a type of attack Time knew quite well. The "slow-and-then-lightning-fast-schtick," if you will. He honed his focus, 'He wants to kill me, but not that fast. Coming from his waist, it can only be a diagonal slash, or horizontal if he's focused on any training. I suspect it will angle more up than down.'
Right as the blade left its sheath, he threw himself under the legs of the Yiga. Like a spider, he darted up Sooga's back and onto his shoulders. He reared his left flaming hand behind his head, while his right ripped the mask off his face. His voice boomed throughout the hideout, "You will pay for what you've done to me!" He heard lightning crack in the sky as he plunged his fiery hand into the Yiga's eye, reveling in the scream that left his lips. Time would have burnt past his skull if it weren't for the scythes that attempted to swipe at him.
He backflipped off and zipped through the doorway. Taking a right, he found himself in a circular room with an army of men hot on his heels. Nevertheless, he saw the light from the outside coming in. He dodged around the arrows and other projectiles that were thrown. Time sprinted out of the entrance and into the clearing outside as fast as he could, all the while irritation clawed up his aching body and growled at his brain to find a way to cease this awful sound that began to flood his ears.
Their hearts.
The organs they all possessed that beat at different paces and intervals. Some sounding lighter, others much heavier. It drowned his ears with the disastrous, cacophonic symphony it created. Aside from it taking energy to run out of their fortress whilst being injured, his panting soon turned into dry heaving out of disgust. His racing blood turned from a bubble into a scalding boil. He shook his head as he took a wobbly step back, 'I…I can't take it any longer…'
Meanwhile, dark clouds befitting of his emotions had already invaded the sky as they began to swirl above. Blue and purple sparks ripped across the cloud space as if it were charging up a devastating bolt. This development briefly distracted the troops, but they still had their sights set on the Hero.
Then, his real voice, in a deep and guttural tone that shook the earth, howled out of his vessel. Rearing back like a beast, a colossal bolt of lightning struck him. Through its blinding flash sprang the magnificent, fearsome deity. The colors of the markings on his cheeks and forehead glowed as if embers were stoked beneath the skin where they sat. Feeling energized, his fierce gaze took in every last one of their increasingly cowardice frames. His harsh breathing echoed off the surrounding canyon walls as his double helix blade materialized into his hands.
Not aiming at a person, but rather a direction, he readied his blade to make a horizontal slash. His grip tightened and his face aggressively scrunched before he let the swing fly, watching the sharp beam of light rush forward and wreak havoc on nearly two-thirds of the army that faced him . Reducing the amount of living essence that contributed to the phonic chaos sent a rush to his brain. It hardened his resolve to rid his ears of it all. Every. Last. One. Of. Them.
The mix of blademasters, footmen, and bowmen that were left had either fallen to their knees or staggered onto their backs out of pure shock and fear. His battle cries shook the ground as he sent out two more beams to finish them off, save for those that found their will to live and ran back inside. It was overkill, but it staved off even the strongest of pounding hearts from his perception of sound.
Bestowed with a more stable state of mind, a series of emotions melted into his conscience. Relief took up most of it, but there was joy too. Lightly breathing, his eyes perused the blood-soaked sand. An ear flicked.
'Wait.'
The deity's gaze fell to his armored hands, his sword had finished dissolving, 'This ability is different…' Time had occasionally wondered since his fateful encounter with Hylia amid the King's prayer why his hearing went beyond the layer of skin. He didn't…no he didn't remember being able to hear hearts when he used the mask. It had simply expanded his range of hearing, only sharpened his ears a bit. He reflected on what he just ran from and how he did it. This was troubling. 'But…surely I don't feel the same way when I'm around my descendant or the princess. I can't say the men's hearts at the citadel ever bothered me either.' He turned and began walking away from the hell he escaped, 'I suppose it's more specific then…hopefully…'
Seeing as his anger was gone, the clouds diminished to reveal the clear sky that existed beforehand. He blinked as he examined canyons that surrounded him, "Huh…" he murmured, even that produced an echo. His gaze swept toward the sun that sat overhead, "Evening should be approaching soon, but the real question is…where am I?"
'The Gerudo Desert obviously…' There's only one place that he knew of that had this much sand. He eyeballed the edges of the cliffs above, murmuring, "I could easily reach it but, depending on where I am, there's either a settlement at the top or below on the other side. I shouldn't risk getting seen by possible travelers or common folk." With that in mind, he continued forward in the opposite direction of the hideout. He had no reason to believe that the Yiga would send anyone else after him.
Well, except that the clan had a fair reason to keep the entire canyon well-protected from any wandering outsiders. It also seemed like their communication, that would have otherwise alerted them of his presence, had been cut off. As he continued to stroll through, an arrow bounced off the armor that protected his back. He immediately knew where it came from. Time could almost hear their screams before he unleashed a beam that crumbled the entire rock they stood on. From there, it was almost like a game he'd played back in his world's Castle Town: the targets would appear, and it was his job to break them. In his case, the projectile was his sword beams, but as the land between the walls got thinner, he simply resorted to using his fists.
On the other hand, the targets were plentiful. So plentiful that the game really became, "I spy with my little eye: blood that's trailing down the side of the canyon." The last group that stood their ground at the entrance had witnessed and heard all of the god's doings. As a beam came racing their way, one of them teleported behind the deity, only to get stepped on a moment later.
'Finally,' He thought. Looking ahead, he could see several rock pillars that were all a third or two-thirds taller than him. Piquing his curiosity, the closer he got to them, the more he realized that they all held at least three or four lizalfos that sunbathed in their camouflage. As he walked by, he expected one of them to jump off and attack him, yet attempting to poke one sent it scampering around to the other side. One even jumped off and…died. Simply put, it landed wrong. Seeing as he still considered them to be enemies, Time openly chuckled at this. 'Maybe I feel a little bad, but knowing that they otherwise terrorize people, this is okay. Plus, this is but a drop in the puddle. There's definitely more out there.'
Once past the pillars, he squinted his eyes at two larger and thicker rocks that stood apart from the rolling sands. "Is…surely that's the town, isn't it?" He caught himself going to wipe sweat from his forehead, only there wasn't any to wipe despite his black underclothes, tunic, and armor. Another idea crossed his mind, "Shouldn't I head back to the citadel, though? I know it's been a couple of days, but would they still be there? I know they must be looking for me." Knowing that he could quickly get there made it the more attractive thought. However, right as it was starting to solidify in his mind, his stomach gurgled at him, "Right. I'm starving. Gerudo Town it is."
He reared himself into gear, taking a skip before jogging in the direction of the town…that got closer…and closer…and—'Wait shit I forgot how fast I was!' Not to mention the dust storm that he kicked up behind him along with the wind. Still several hundred feet away, he took one last stride forward before assuming his typical form. However, his momentum sent him into a violent tumble that resulted in him sliding to a halt just before the guard at the northern entrance.
Right as the deity picked up his head to look at her, the wind guided dust and sand he kicked up came crashing over the both of them. Luckily it was stopped by a wall that was just behind her within the town, leaving the dust to gust upward after hitting it. Now he coughed, his lungs staggering at the grand level of pain that came surging back to him right as he began to speak, "Can…can I speak t-to Urbosa—" His nose started to bleed from the dry air, "Please?"
Her yellow-green eyes blinked once before she silently grabbed his bruised wrist and pulled him from the sand.
Time quickly wiped the blood before it could fall past his upper lip. With the guard being so tall, her huge strides made it feel as though he were getting dragged along. 'What the hell is up with me?' He thought as he almost tripped over himself as they walked into their training area. They passed several other guards that only gave them a passive aggressive look as they went by. 'I was different a second ago sure, but I wasn't doing any of this while I was trying to escape!' He tried to keep up with her the best he could. His limp had yet to get better and his feet were still unimaginably sore from standing in sand for so long.
They went up a short set of stairs that led into the throne room. From there, he suddenly felt her grasp around his wrist disappear and stumbled before the chief onto all fours. The jolt from his hands making an audible slap! on the ground sent his guts forward into his lower ribs, leading to a strange combination of a gasp that simultaneously knocked the air out of him where the influx of air then triggered his gag reflex and made him spew blood onto the floor. He trembled as he heavily breathed, "Hah…sorry. I'm… phew," He sat up, "really not okay…"
Urbosa's jaw dropped at the pitiful sight in front of her. The guards in the room quietly shuffled when she got up from her chair and crouched in front of him. Her voice was serious, "What happened?"
Time gave her the gist as some of his fragile poise was beginning to return, "I was with Zelda and Link at the citadel-thing about two days ago when I was knocked out and kidnapped by the Yiga." The image of the blademaster's mask briefly flashed in his mind, "I…I was locked up in a torture room, and when I finally woke up, I was…tortured." The words felt thick as he tried to say his last phrase. It came out in a whisper, "I-I just escaped." Trying not to linger on the feelings that internally evoked, he shook his head, regaining some of his usual confidence, "Ahem, I understand and respect your rules, but if I could stay the night and eat, I'll be on my way in the morning. You can say no."
The Gerudo Chief was appalled with the manner of which he made his request, but she too quickly regained her strong sense of grace, "Hero, while our traditions are quite strict, I believe it should be obvious that your case would be an exception." She stood, announcing both to him and her guards, "You are permitted to be in this town, might I add, whether the Princess is with you or not." She clapped her hands in a familiar rhythm, "I will explain after you're thoroughly taken care of. You're in no position to object."
The same three women from last time jogged into the room.
She puffed out a disappointed sigh. Her finger came to press into her cheek as her expression finally showed her sorrowful concern, "I must apologize, attacks have increased since I've been made a champion, so I cannot afford you any healing potions. If their properties weren't so fragile, we'd be able to make our own here in the desert. I'd send a request to the castle; however, I fear they will simply be attacked once they cross the canyon border."
Young Link understood, "I might be fine in a few days, we'll see. Thank you, Urbosa." He watched her return to her chair as the other three carefully helped him to his feet. They all wore similar expressions of pity.
The women showed him to the same area they'd taken him to before, granted, this time they let him walk there himself. The one with a bob haircut spoke, "Vehvi, we'll leave you to get settled. It seems we need to remember where exactly we placed your garments from last time."
The Hero remained silent. He talked enough to the chief, hearing his voice now would add to his ailments. They strolled away after he nodded his understanding. Carefully disrobing, he walked toward the broad washbasin. Seeing as he wasn't dumped into it this time, he was able to admire some of the delicate engravings it bore on the outside. Young Link's eyes fell to the faintly scented bath. Picking up his right foot, he stepped in expecting to feel relaxed—
He gasped, the pang from the warmth combining with tender flesh made a tear shoot right out of his tear duct!
Quickly wiping it away, he took staggered breaths as he lowered himself in, hissing with each open wound the water touched, especially the one across his midriff. Once again, he found his entire being pulsing in pain, different areas sending waves of varied intensities. He felt like he could hardly breathe. His hands sought to comfort his contorted face, but rather they covered it instead.
Alone, and finally able to show the way he felt, a quiet sob choked out of his dry throat, accompanied by an incredulous, wobbly smile. 'Ugh…it's not that I feel sorry for myself…' His head sank further into his hands, 'Goddesses above, I wish I could put this misery into words. Of all things, washing away everything I've been through stings nearly as bad as when it actually happened!' Time shakily sighed in frustration, hot tears rolling off his cheeks into the basin. 'What else was I expecting then? To be turned away? Maybe if I were, I'd return to myself, free of feeling these damn cuts and carvings! Just what the hell were they drawing on me anyways!?' The shock from the water had begun to ebb away as he tried to make out the bloody symbols.
But it was no use.
Hell, they hardly resembled the parts of the Hylian alphabet he could remember, much less his own version of the language. 'With my luck this is probably some kind of curse.' He rolled his eyes, 'As if. I'm sure at least one of them is calling me some kind of offensive name.' Realizing the ache from his breaths were becoming purely external, he felt better knowing that his ribs were at least less bruised than they were before. Any cuts on his arms had completely healed without a trace.
Now his fingers ran along the smooth rim of the tub. A subtle feeling of loneliness had perched on his shoulders, 'I suppose it would be nice if I had someone here with me.' He couldn't help feeling corny for thinking this way. He first envisioned his descendant beside him, imagining his stunned face made him meekly laugh, 'Oh gosh, I'm crying, but him? I can't decide if he'd try to hold it in or melt into a puddle. He and the Princess would be absolutely heartbroken if they saw me now.' This was somehow, admittedly, a little humorous, 'Though, at least I know he wouldn't make me tell him everything right then, if at all honestly. Everyone else seems to just want answers.'
He was briefly reminded of how he'd decided not to kill Khoga, 'Hm, considering I'm more or less a part of the castle's "important" personnel, I wonder what the news of this will hold for the King and how he decides to deal with them afterward? I'm not sure how much Urbosa can control that divine beast, but what if we made it ram right into their hideout?'
Then, thinking of their symbol brought him full circle back to himself. Time instinctively put his back to the entrance as he tried to look over his shoulder and check the status of that awful mark. 'Damn that Sooga!' Scorn filled his eyes, he could just barely make out where the skin started to pucker, 'Sure, there's a chance I actually killed him, but what if he survives!? Maybe I should've stabbed his lazy superior…" He remembered the revere they—well, at least Sooga—seemed to have for each other, even if the strength to position of power was insanely lopsided. Who knows, based on his reaction that assumed he killed his Master, maybe killing him wasn't as bad of an idea as he thought. Still curious of his mark, his hand had reached over and tried to feel it.
CLANG!
Startled, he immediately whipped around. The growl that he responded with shook the ground and created waves in the water. The colored marks on his face had begun to fade but they returned at full opacity with a faint glow.
It would turn out that the sound came from the group of women from before. At first, they were shocked to see the symbol he'd been branded with, but now two of them cautiously looked over the broad shoulders of the woman who'd spoke before. She'd dropped a platter that carried a few brushes and a sponge.
He hoarsely coughed from using his dry throat, "Ahem! Sorry, I really don't know what that was. You scared me for a second."
"I'm scared to fall asleep…" The woman off to the left murmured. She received a harsh look from the one she hid behind.
"Really it is I who should be apologizing. We all saw what you looked like before, but we could have never expected the horrors your clothes had concealed." Her heels sounded thick on the sandstone as she walked over and peered to get a second look, "…I can't believe they'd do such a thing…disgusting." Her diligent poise returned, "May I bring our chief in to see you?"
"Well, unless you give me an actual shirt, she'll see it anyways. I'd rather her wait until I'm dressed." He preferred to keep the number of champions that have seen him naked to one.
"Very well," The woman returned to the other two, "Both of you tend to him while I go alert her. It's best she is not surprised in the same manner we were."
For once he wasn't entirely against the idea of being washed by someone else. Though the fact that it'd hurt himself to do so was the reason for the exception. This time they avoided using soap and mainly focused on gently cleaning the wounds. Nevertheless, the water became murkier and murkier as they arrived at different areas. Yes, his chest, but especially his head.
The sweat from his torment and the hot room it occurred in became a magnet for dust. And his hair…yikes. "Geez, who knew there'd be this much in there!" They probably asked him to dunk his head under a little over three times. Now he was left to mind how the one with pink hair sat behind him and brushed it.
The one off to his left didn't have much to do so she simply watched the other woman. Occasionally her eyes would drift to his chest, "Goodness, seeing this truly makes me wish we could spare a potion for you."
He briefly lifted his shoulders into a shrug, "It's okay, I understand. These will eventually be gone anyways." But, thinking back to the time he spent in the hospital after those acid burns, he knew this was going to take a while, and that's without considering all of the bruising.
"I hope 'eventually' doesn't take very long then. How's your pain?"
His eyes dullened, "Better than before, but nowhere near gone. I'm glad you guys took it pretty easy on me." Yet, he had to stop them in the middle of when they were gently sponging down his upper torso. "Traumatized" didn't begin to describe the sound that erupted from him after a tiny part of the utensil had ever so lightly scraped his tender skin. They'd profusely apologized, and, after he collected himself, so did he for scaring them again with his fierce markings.
The one behind him was finished with his hair, "All done. Before we get you dressed, I'm curious about those colorful marks that glowed on your face."
The other nodded, "Me too. They're gone now."
"Ah well," He thought for a moment, "it's really hard to explain. Consider it to be one of those things that come from me being a Hero." 'I'm still a little surprised I reacted that way when they came in…though I think I blame myself less for the second time.'
They both seemed fine with that answer. Soon they got him a towel and gestured for him to follow them. The room that held his clothes also held a tray full of food on the table. Young Link, who'd been ignoring the ever-growing pit in his stomach, took a few steps toward the roasted poultry and vegetables before he snapped out of his daze and went to get dressed in the voe garb. Unlike last time, when his eyes surveyed the space to see if there was anything else for him to put on, the women were not nearly as exuberant about his chest being exposed. The one with pink hair sweetly pat his head, "Urbosa will be waiting for you in her chambers when you're done."
Thank goodness they left, because the way he wolfed down his food was embarrassingly improper, starving or not. It tasted damn good though. He even considered eating the bones, but his head shook while the idea was still prevalent in his mind, 'No no…that's…that's just way too far. Like way way too far.' Leaving the tray, he tried to ignore the guard's watchful eyes as he climbed the stairs. Someone had cleaned up his crimson vomit from earlier.
Urbosa sat reading in the middle of her lavish and colorful bed that adorned the center of the room. To the left was an entire wall of books, several of which laid open beside her or stood halfway off the shelf. To the right was her storage drawers and boxes along with a screen for her to get dressed behind. Then, behind her bed was what looked to be a small shrine of sorts. Three large stones with writing in Gerudo stood, two with a goblet in front of them, and the one in the center seemed to have something precious instead. He recalled one of their greetings, "Um… Sav'aaq, Urbosa."
"Sav'aaq, Hero." The chief keenly shifted her head to face him. Her fierce green eyes narrowed at him as she immediately rose to her feet. Once closer, she gasped in horror of what she saw, "I can't believe—H-How dare they even—" Her eyes briefly glowed as green electricity sparked between her fingers. She turned away to collect herself, "I apologize for my reaction. Seeing as we'll be working together at some point, I'm sure you understand the care I have for my allies. Especially you, as I've recently found out." Urbosa gestured for him to take a seat on the mattress.
Sitting beside him, she picked up a book whose pages were severely tattered with time, "This one here in particular. It speaks of a courageous man who'd snuck into the fortress that housed the great Gerudo. Not only did he best the guards, but he also aided their leader when she'd been enslaved by evil witches of time's past." She briefly touched her finger to her tongue before turning the page, "Ah yes, this line. 'It was through his immense trickery and strength that this man was allowed to become one with the Gerudo tribe.'" She expectantly looked his way, one of her eyebrows raising along with the corner of her blue lips.
Time nodded at hearing his history recounted to him.
"Seems like it's starting to ring a bell, yes? See, I thought the same, until I saw the next page." She moved the book into his lap as she turned the page, "What a striking image."
Now his eyes widened as he stared back at his adult form, clear as day…ish. It seems one of the women had sketched a picture of him. Granted the lines aren't anywhere as clean now, but the resemblance was astonishing, "So, you're saying that you not only know that I'm not eleven, but that you also consider me to be Gerudo too?"
She flicked off a grain of sand that sat on his head before cupping his cheek, "Seems the Hero of Time is just as cunning as this book reads. Also, I might add that I haven't been able to find anything that speaks of those marks on your face."
'That's not surprising, especially since I just burned the only pages that ever, and will ever, talk about them.' "Out of respect for your time: I still can't exactly talk about them. Oh, and if you were wondering how old I actually am, I'm eighteen."
Urbosa nodded, "The Yiga must have known that to some degree considering that they treated you like a man. Would you mind telling me what exactly happened to you?"
He swung his legs that hung off the edge, "I'm not sure I want to walk myself back through everything just yet. How about I come find you tomorrow? Trust me, after everything I did to them, they won't come looking for me."
The chief considered his words, "I trust your judgement, Hero of Time. I already spoke with woman at the inn about reserving you a room. Just so we're clear, you're free to come and go as you please, should you feel the need. In the meantime, I'll contact the Princess and send her here to come get you. Your job is to relax while they travel here."
Time wasn't thinking as he took her hand and kissed it, feeling a painless zap on his lips, "This means a lot to me, thank you." The night had almost completely fallen during their conversation.
Her eyes gave away that she was charmed by the notion, "Sav'orr, you can find me here whenever you're ready."
He'd forgotten what that one meant, so he simply waved before heading back down the steps. The Hero felt exposed as he left the building and went to the inn. Sure, he felt the same way last time, but he wished there was something he could cover the cuts with. Maybe he didn't have to worry about possible infection, '…well, he did use a dull blade…it had to have been dulled by something.' Time found the masseuse at her front desk, watching her smile as he came in.
"Di'ta o diabo," She commented, sounding motherly.
"Huh?"
"Speak of the devil, vehvi, Urbosa told me to expect you." She gestured to herself before referencing the two beds beside her desk, "Because you'll be staying with me, my name is Sahdri. You can pick either of these beds to stay in. I require the one in the other room to do my work."
"Yes, ma'am. I already told the chief thank—"
"You mean, sarqso?"
"Ah, yes, sarqso! Than—er— sarqso for reminding me." Seeing as he'd continued up to her desk, he felt her hand pet his head, "I can't put into words how much I appreciate you and Urbosa's kindness."
"That's wonderful to hear, Hero. Though, I can't let you slip up on your vocabulary now that you're one of us." She ruffled his hair more, "No worries, I'll help you of course! Get some sleep for now. Sav'orr."
He felt his soul leave his body, "Sav'orr." 'I can't believe she's going to make me do this!' His head came to rest on the pillow of the bed to the far left of the entrance, 'I really can't catch a break…'
…
Despite the hospitality, it was still easy to feel a little estranged. Women who stopped by to get massages were often struck with sorrow or discomfort when they saw him sitting with his thoughts in the lobby. Mothers who came in would often explain to their daughters that he was one of them. This, of course, mostly resulted in confusion and were followed up with comments like, "But his hair is yellow!" or "His skin's even lighter than that one girl with the pink hair!" or, his favorite since it was said the most: "But he's a voe!" He figured they didn't make comments on his torso since they could tell he was hurt.
Sahdri took two breaks throughout the day, one for lunch, which she would bring for both of them, and one that all the Gerudo took around four in the afternoon. After eating, she would then spend the majority of it teaching him new phrases to say before testing them with a conversation. "You're quite a fast learner!" She mused, "Alright, you're me, and you're running the salon, okay?"
He wasn't nervous before she told him he would be acting as her, 'Oh no…'
She waved, acting as if she just walked in, "Sav'aaq! I'd like a massage please!"
Time waved back, "Ah, vasaaq to Hotel Oasis! We offer two different kinds: savé-savé, or savé-o-bisoca. Ta vi su'so yahta?" He asked which she wanted.
"Ohhh, I heard a lot about savé-o-bisoca. What's it like?"
"It's our best seller! It's a massage so relaxing that you'll feel a lightness in your very soul! Plus, the oils make your skin super smooth!" He had to keep himself from chuckling at her giggle, those were the words she used when she talked to her patrons.
"Sounds wonderful! Mia…wayso mo rupees?" Sahdri asked how much it was.
He used the one number he could remember from five minutes ago, "Déca rupees!"
Now she really laughed, "A hundred? It's eighty! Unless you're telling me to up-charge, hm?"
The Hero giggled at the thought, "So suddenly? You'll lose your customers!" However, the fun was abruptly cut short when it caused a few of his cuts to become sore. His hand hovered over where it hurt.
Sahdri comforted him with tender head pats, "You did very well, sav'sutto (good job)." Her eyes wandered to the door, "I noticed that you stayed inside all day. I assume it's to keep the sun off your wounds?"
Earlier, after they ate, he tried to venture into town, but the sun was quick to cast an awful stinging sensation over any wound the light touched. Young Link nodded, "It hurts way more than I thought it would."
"Hm…I might have something that could help." She got up and went back into her room, returning moments later with a shawl. The sheer, teal fabric was very finely woven, and the neck was decorated with large jewels. It was the only part that used opaque material. She gestured for him to sit up as she put the garment on him, taking a step back and judging the fashion sense afterward, "Hm, that color looks quite nice with the green. What do you think?"
Luckily the neck wasn't uncomfortably tight, "This is really nice! It feels good too. Though, I'd hate if I got any bl—"
The vai shook her head, "Don't worry. If it were a big deal, I wouldn't have given it to you."
Young Link still got up to give her a light hug, "Sarqso, Sahdri! Now that you've given me this, I think it's time that I go see Urbosa." They shared a goodbye before he left, and while the sun still attempted to singe the healing skin, it wasn't nearly as bad as before. The guards pointed him in the direction of the chief's quarters as he walked up the steps.
"Urbosa?" He called, not seeing her on or around her bed. His cheeks turned red as he watched her ruby hair shift behind her privacy screen. 'Ack! Why did I have to walk in right as she was changing?!' Keeping his cool, he stayed at the balcony where his back was turned to her.
"Hero?" Her voice was edged with surprise, but a calm one. "I'll need just a moment."
Sweat still began to form on the side of his face, "N-no worries, take your time!" Luckily, watching the citizens below held his attention while he waited.
The chief stepped out a few minutes later, "Sav'aaq, I presume you're here to tell me what happened?"
"Mhm."
She smiled, tapping the same spot he sat in last night, "I like the shawl. It's more fitting on you than I would have imagined."
Time happily took a seat, "Sarqso. Anyways—" He went on to explain everything that had happened to him while he was in their hideout and tried to capture the details as best as he could. She was appalled when he told her about what they planned to try to do with her divine beast, but it was nothing compared to the anger in her eyes when he described his torture.
Later on, his breathing started to become heavy once he reached the part where had left Khoga's room, "I…yes, set the papers on…fire— yawn— and then I found a ladder and…" His eyes became incredibly heavy. It was as if two weights had attached themselves and became heavier each time he tried to open his eyes.
"Are you alright?" Urbosa asked, concerned at this sudden development.
He had a feeling that this could only lead to another one of his two-day slumbers, "This…this is normal." He tried to stand up as a means to keep his consciousness from giving up on him, but as soon as he took a step away from the bed, his vision went black, and he collapsed to the floor.