As a reminder, you can find MORE of this on my SubStar (dot adult slash KajaWilder), it's posted up past chapter 50 there... And if you guys haven't seen an update in at least a week, please let me know! I have a busy life, and I get distracted and forget things. This story (and PTaL) are supposed to be updated WEEKLY from now until they're both caught up with each other (like I was doing with FwB until this weekend).
And if you're just interested in discussing things with other readers, of course, you can go to my DISCORD here: h- t_ t_ p-s -: -/ -/ -discord . g-g / N9yDA8t6Cw (taking out hyphens, underscores, and spaces of course).
Chap. 33: Revelations in the Rain
That was not the end of the princess's emotional, or physical, struggles in the Firly Grove, unfortunately. Once her tears had been cried out, Zelda lifted her head, wiped her eyes, and started gathering up the remains of her fallen enemies. Several Moblin and Bokoblin teeth and horns entered her satchel, of course. But more importantly, or at least more immediately useful, were a new club, and a strange spear the Sheikah Slate identified as a "Serpentine Spear," something manufactured and designed by the Sheikah. According to her most advanced device, the Sheikah spear-masters had created the hooked, curved blade to snag their opponent's limbs or clothing and delivery painful cuts, as much as stabbing.
Zelda found the weapon elegant and well-balanced, but even better, the Bokoblin she had won it from had actually taken care of it. The weapon was both sharp and looked pristine, aside from the droplets of water that had gathered in the rain. She took it up eagerly, knowing it was among the most dangerous weapons she had yet found. At least, those that were not magical in nature.
Once she was done cleaning up the remains of her foes and herself from the battle, Zelda forced her mind back to the task at hand. With a wistful look eastward and upward at the distant columns of chimney-smoke, Zelda sighed, then cast her eyes back to the west. She had largely skirted the woods in her time within the Firly Valley, but even from here, in the rain that had reduced to a light drizzle, she could see it teemed with resources.
Deer, more wild pigs, bird's nests, mushrooms, peppers, and all sorts of flora and fauna useful for alchemy or cooking were just there, ripe for the taking. Even the trees, man of which had been harvested long ago, showed no signs of recent cutting. Much like the cabin, it seemed the woods had been completely abandoned.
Was it because of the monsters? She could think of no reason why such a rich woodland, this close to a settlement, would not have someone making use of its bounty.
But, thanks to her bombs and a very close shave, Zelda had just slain many of the beasts. Until the next Blood Moon, at least, the forest should be safe. Or safe-er, at least. Even a boar could be threatening if riled, she knew.
An hour into her exploration, Zelda had added a dozen fresh apples, a handful of spicy red peppers, and a Blue Nightshade to her own stash. She was just bending over to pull out a hearty radish from the earth, glad for one of her favorite spicy foods to add to her next meal, when the sound of a snapping twig made her freeze.
Instinct alone made her duck and spin, throwing her body to the right a moment later. Where she had just been, another Bokoblin's club smashed into the soft forest loam. Her own new club, which had seemed tiny in one of the hulking Moblin's hands, was in her hand almost as fast, and her Sheikah-crafted Shield of the Mind's Eye- one of three similar pieces- fell onto her other arm a moment later as Zelda stood.
What she faced was not something she wanted to. Yes, she had gone up against Moblins, and blue Bokoblins before in a straight fight. Yes, she had prevailed each time, if only by the skin of her teeth.
But she was not eager to do it again, and the Bokoblin in question, another blue one, was gripping the club in both hands with a fierce expression and hatred burning in its copper and cerulean eyes. "Blue-bomb-fire-Lady die now," the Bokoblin hissed, "Make things easy on Konyo, and on Lady. Just give up."
"I think I won't," Zelda retorted. In the face of an obvious threat, thankfully her feelings of lust seemed to quiet, for the amnesiac adventurer found her mind sharpening to the increasingly familiar razor-focus of life or death combat. She watched as the Bokoblin's face registered a response to her words, and its mouth twist into a vicious smirk.
"Fine," it replied, oddly human-like, even more than Bubmin had sounded, "Konyo not mind killing Lady, too, just like last one. Still have fun before take to Chief Big Death."
Zelda had to suppress a shudder. This particular Bokoblin wasn't just smarter, but a corpse-rapist? That... that was disgusting. Her grip tightened on the club, and for a brief moment, she wished she had the time to swap out weapons. Matching a blue Bokoblin strength for strength was foolish, she was not some trained soldier. It would overpower her in a moment, if it took that long.
She was, perhaps, still faster. But blue Bokoblins were quicker than their red cousins, too, so that might not be the case. What weapon would best suit this fight, if she got the opportunity?
The Guardian Sword sprang immediately to mind, its cutting edge was among the sharpest she had ever seen, because it was made of energy rather than a physical blade. But the Flameblade could scorch and sear, too, while her claymore had weight behind it. The Sheikah Longblade was a master-work of sword-craft, nearly as sharp as even the magical weapon, but with reach and length as well. Even the spear she'd just found would be better against this opponent. In fact, with its reach and balance, it would likely be her best choice.
If she had time to draw it.
The Bokoblin's stance changed, broader, with weight on the front leg as its torso turned to the side. The form was almost... familiar.
Zelda was thirteen years old when she first watched the soldiers drill at the garrison on the west side of the castle. Just hitting the first real flush of adolescence, she had been in awe of the bare chests many wore as they exercised, or practiced with swords, spears, and other weapons in the barracks yards. She was a foolish girl for staring, and she knew it even then, but the young girl could not seem to help herself. Even the female soldiers were just so... powerful, so full of grace. That was when she had first-
Static. A flash of memory, nothing more, but with an unusual tag of context. She had known how old she was, when that memory was placed in her life. It was the first time such a fragment had carried that information. Zelda filed it, the memory of a memory, away in her mind for safe-keeping. Perhaps other memories might return, and she could start to build a brief, exceptionally abridged, history of her former life?
That was not of immediate concern, however, even though the woman cherished the memory deeply. Her brief moment of distraction had been noticed, and the Bokoblin's club was tearing in an arc from her right to her left, opposite her shield.
Most inconvenient, but that was no doubt the Bokoblin's plan. She knew what it would do next, too. If she parried with her own club, it would prove stronger. If she took the time to turn, defend herself with the shield, her left flank would be exposed to its dull, dirty claws.
If she let herself get hit, it would be even worse, though she might- just might- be able to hit the Bokoblin at the same time.
What alternative was there?
She bent back as far as she could go, tumbling back as her right foot caught on the root of the tree she had just been rooting around. By accident alone, her left knee missed the club as it passed over her, and somehow, a Hylia-blessed miracle perhaps, her heel clipped the Bokoblin's chin.
It reeled back, more stunned than hurt, but the surprise hit at least gave Zelda the time to finish her roll and climb to her feet again.
She had seen that stance before.
One of the more handsome knights, one who had been training cadets in the yard in that very memory, had used it.
She had watched avidly as the young man, a decade or so her senior but still someone she thought of as high ly attractive, had the cadets attack him in that very position and form, one after the other. Each had been sent reeling back with his practice blade, often before they could even start an attack of their own. One young, blonde cadet who strangely resembled the knight had come closest, his speed and skill far above the rest of the young men and women in his unit, but that was all she could remember.
The Bokoblin was using a soldier's stance.
A trained soldier's stance. One who was experienced with using a blade, either in one hand or two.
The fingers on her club felt numb. Every other opponent she had faced this far had been a brute, using only speed and strength alone, brute force and tactics, to overwhelm her. This Bokoblin was smart, and seemed to know what it was doing.
"Learned Blue-Fire-Lady is outclassed, eh?" it muttered, and the wide grin grew. "Like Konyo said: Surrender, and Konyo will make it quick."
Zelda swallowed.
The ramifications were... not good.
She could win, of course. She still had the option of dropping a bomb or two and running, sprinting out of range before it could catch up. That alone should at least let her put a bit of distance between them, switch to a more suitable weapon. Perhaps a bow. She still felt confident, even though a one-on-one match looked less appealing by the moment.
But he was trained.
Either there was a human out there, a former soldier, who had trained this and perhaps other Bokoblins, or...
Or...
He was a soldier. Once.
Before the Calamity.
The Bokoblin lashed forward again, this time with an overhead strike, one handed for extra reach. Her shield came up on instinct, and the blow rattled her arm down to the shoulders. Zelda's feet dug inches through the dirt too, but she held, at least for the moment. He followed up with a side-swipe, trying to bring the unwieldy weapon around her shield, but this time Zelda met it with the flat of her own club, and his awkward movement was enough that Zelda overpowered him long enough to jump a bit further away.
He charged again, lunging overhead a second time. She leaped left, waited a quarter of a heartbeat, and spun her right arm back, up, and then forward and down. It smashed into the Bokoblin's extended upper arm, and it yelped in pain as some of the blue flesh was torn away by the rough wood of her weapon. "That's two blows to me," Zelda reminded him with a flat voice, "Are you sure I'm outclassed?"
The Bokoblin only smirked, "Oh, Konyo has not started. Konyo train hard, become strong. Lady still gonna die. Just matter of how fast and easy."
"I'll just have to disagree, then. Why don't you die?"
"Konyo too close, Konyo almost Black Bokoblin now. Maybe if Konyo bring broken Lady back to Chief Death, then Konyo become Silver!"
Knowing there was a third stage was horrifying. But a fourth? The leap in power and danger between red and blue was high. If a black was that much stronger than the second tier... and silver the same? She was in real trouble if that ever happened!
She attacked again, hoping to press her advantage while the monster was talking, but Konyo parried her blow with his own club easily. She swung again, and it turned its wrist, catching that strike, too. A return blow made Zelda stagger as her shield and club both caught it, but she held strong once more.
Back and forth they clashed, their clubs splintering as the stronger, better-trained Bokoblin matched itself with Zelda's lesser ability and strength, with only her shield making up for the lack. The bronze and wood barrier was starting to bend and warp around the edges, but the princess was sure it would hold a while longer.
Then her opponent made a mistake.
It stepped forward onto a thistle. That was all it took. The sharp needles pierced even the calloused, worn skin of its bare foot, and Konyo the Bokoblin stumbled, wincing in pain.
Ready for just such an opening, Zelda's shield smashed across his snout, and her club thrust forward into its sternum. Konyo hunched forward, howling in pain, and she used both hands, the club-held one reinforcing the shield awkwardly, to bring the defense down on the back of his head. Stunned and dazed again, only more-so this time, Zelda took a half-step back, shifted her grip, and whirled the worn club upward in a wide, fast arc.
The Bokoblin had been staggering, almost on one knee, when her club hit his chin again in almost the exact spot her heel had before. This time, he reeled back in full, thrown completely off balance, to stumble and fall onto his back, splayed out and vulnerable.
Her club had not survived the blow, for it had broken in half with the strength of it. But Konyo's weapon spun and thunked into the old, brown leaves between them still slick with the recent rain. Zelda picked it up with a flat expression. "You used to be a soldier of Hyrule, didn't you? At least a Cadet."
"Konyo-"
He was rising to his feet, trying to roll even though she was sure the monster was seeing stars. She could not give him that chance. Even unarmed, he might just be too dangerous. She mirrored his stance for a moment, both hands on the Bokoblin's own club as it was held vertically before her in a mid-guard position. She stepped back, and then lunged forward and up. The club went with her, and Konyo raised both hands in a late attempt to defend himself. One claw grazed Zelda's torso, jabbing her painfully, but it was too little and far too late. His own weapon broke against Konyo's skull, too, and the monster she had suspected was once a soldier of her own kingdom vanished into smoke.
She sighed, cast the other broken hilt aside, and stood. "A former soldier. He had to be, or at least trained by one. The Sheikah mentioned there were traitors of their people who call themselves the Yiga, and I've just- just met one. Are there Hylian Soldiery who did the same? I want to... to say it's impossible, but..."
The princess was shaken out of her thoughts by something strange. Near the pile of wood and leaves she guessed was Konyo's crude bed, several lines of white stood out in stark contrast to the browns and greens of the rain-dampened forest.
She stepped closer, carefully, one hand now holding the claymore so much like the training weapons her most recently recovered memory had revealed the soldiers to use.
It was a body.
A body clad in white with red and blue highlights, with long, white hair half-torn from a bun. A tall man, thin but not skinny, with callouses on what remained of his fingers. One hand was brutalized by impact, the fingers crushed, and the other had two fingers missing entirely. A satchel he had carried was torn apart, its contents ruined and discarded, or consumed, by monsters. "Konyo, most likely," she whispered down at the Sheikah, whose face and torso were as damaged as his hands. "At least you went down fighting, my friend. I hope. Was- Is- this your spear? I... I'm sorry. I wish I could do more. I can't even bury you properly."
Did the Sheikah bury their dead? Were their ceremonies? What little she had seen of their culture in Kakariko Village suggested they did. There had been a cemetery, at least, though the monuments were close together. Too close for whole bodies. Cremation, then?
That, she might be able to do... but she did not want to risk starting a wildfire.
Then again... "It's rained recently. I can... I can do that much."
Zelda's mind raced in circles for thirty or more minutes while she moved the body, stiff and cold enough to seem unnatural, away from where the Bokoblin beast had left it, and found as much dry kindling as she could. Merely holding the Flameblade next to the pile was enough to make it smoke and eventually ignite. She tried to muster a few words, but little came out.
She was just too distracted.
Dead men, torn apart, at least superficially were low on her list of priorities. Bokoblins had once been human. Or there were traitors. It was hard to decide which was worse.
Either way, they were monsters now. It made little difference in how she had to treat them. But it did change how she felt about killing them. Perhaps, given the phenomenon of Blood Moons, kill the same former citizens of her kingdom again and again.
It was horrifying. But what choice did she have? If Ganon, the Calamity, was to be stopped...
None.
None at all.
It just made things worse to know it. When the corpse of the unnamed Sheikah man was well and truly alight, and the smell growing overpowering, Zelda moved away, tears in her eyes, to continue foraging.
The next blue Bokoblin she found, who wielded a spear cut and sized for a Moblin, was given less consideration. He was a brute, yes, but her Claymore cut him down before he could strike him thanks to her armor and the renewed rain being enough to mask her approach. The thick, pointed stave was unwieldy, but it would do, she decided, until something better came along, so she took that, too.
It was nearly dark when Zelda, her satchel now laden with even more peppers, the softly-glowing Silent Mushrooms, several handfuls of acorns, and what she estimated was several hundred pounds of rough lumber she had used bombs rather than her axe to clear from the verdant forest somehow stuffed into the container, that she left the woods.
Dozens of dead trees had gone into her bag in pieces and two whole trunks of modest size, but she still felt no weight at all aside from the bag itself. Truly, her father's ghost had been an expert enchanter, no matter what he had said.
She found rest for the night beneath a horse's stall on the northeast side of the woods, where the road that circled the valley met up with one that moved down a narrow ravine to the northwest and turned east at the crossroads, going back up the hills.
Toward Hateno.
Zelda walked briskly once morning had come, her belly full of well-cooked pork seasoned with honey and herbs from a nearby hive.
She had not even gone a quarter of a mile up the wide, seemingly well-traveled path when she got proof that, yes, it was such a road. There was a traveler on it. A woman, clad in armor with a heavy pack and bearing a round, wooden shield as she rode a horse gently toward the princess.
A traveler.
Zelda shuddered. The last lone woman she had met was anything but a harmless older lady...
But they could not all be Yiga.
Could they?
She could only hope.
