#at least they weren't tortured the entire chapter this time around lol

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Blood of the Hero Ch 10 (Link's Parents play BotW)

HA I hopped onto BotW for funsies and to finish studying and I ended up writing a whole whopping chapter while I was there XD I am... half insane at this point, so editing and everything is meh but whatevs!

Summary: The Soul of the Hero will always be there to save Hyrule. But when Calamity Ganon is nearly victorious in killing him, it's those that bear the Blood of the Hero who will prevail. Ten years after the Great Calamity, the Shrine of Resurrection is damaged and Link's parents fight to save their son and Hyrule along with him.

i.e. Link's parents play BotW while protecting their boy and they are ready to take on Ganon himself if they have to.

(AO3 link)

First chapter

<<Previous chapter // Next chapter>>

To Kakariko - The Sheikah Warrior

Abel had to admit his day couldn��t get much more irritating.

Perhaps irritating wasn’t the right word. He wouldn’t call almost murdering a Hylian irritating, nor would he call finding the dead desecrated irritating, nor being launched to the top of a mountain by a stone talus.

Perhaps, then, this next setback was only completely infuriating because of everything else. And now everything was irritating.

The shrines atop these peaks share a connection—their memory the answer to the other’s question. Commit to memory before you start, lest, a failure, you will depart.

Abel stared glumly at the words on the plaque while Til wandered the shrine, scribbling madly to memorize or draw every inch of the place. They’d already known there was another shrine, so it didn’t take much to piece together the meaning. The issue now was that they had to climb yet another mountain and had nothing to show for it, and would then have to double back to this one.

Despite the former knight’s best efforts to stop himself from using the bomb rune to destroy the shrine altogether, his frustration was very evident to his wife, who offered to use the paraglider to travel between the mountains and investigate the other shrine. Abel had flatly refused; Til was not as good a climber as him, after all, and the height difference between the peaks and possible launch points meant she’d have to climb.

Besides, she’d already climbed the tower. It was evident she was as exhausted as he was. Lunch (dinner? He wasn’t sure at this point) hadn’t helped much.

No, Abel had insisted on going instead. The shrine was a safe place to leave his wife and son.

Til walked over slowly, glaring at the slate.

“What’s wrong?” Abel asked.

“It’s this thing,” she said slowly with no elaboration. Abel’s patience was worn thin, but before he could snappily ask, she continued, “It always talks about a travel gate when we activate things. It has to mean something.”

“Don’t they appear as points on the map?” Abel offered, glancing at Link distractedly. The boy hadn’t moved, but he was at least resting comfortably, bundled in several blankets to make a little bed for him.

“Yes, but why call them travel gates?” 

“Because they’re notable travel points?” Abel threw out halfheartedly. He didn’t want to get into this, honestly. He already knew what he needed to do.

Til hummed, hovering her finger over the slate. She scrunched her nose, poking the slate, and Abel refrained from rolling his eyes, patience running out.

“Til, for heaven’s sake, just give me the damn thing so I can take Link—”

The rest of his statement was choked off by a yell of surprise as wife started floating and glowing before vanishing into a string of light .

“TIL!” he shouted, looking around frantically. “TILIETH!”

What had—where did she— what the hell just happened ?!

Link sniffled, but it went unnoticed by his frantic father, who started running around the shrine. When he quickly surmised Tilieth wasn’t inside, he rushed outdoors into a pouring rain, wind whipping chilled pellets of water into his eyes. Shielding himself with his hands, he continued to worriedly search, his heart racing. He couldn’t even fathom what had just happened - it had to be some sort of Sheikah trick, right? He’d seen—

His breath caught. He’d seen Yiga disappear in a mixture of light and enchanted paper. Was this the same sort of magic? He already knew that the old man wasn’t Yiga, it was the king for Hylia’s sake—

A whooshing sound emitted behind him, back at the shrine, and he whirled to see blue strings of light coalesce into his wife, safe, sound, and staring with her eyes wide open.

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“Tilieth!” Abel slammed into her, hugging her tightly before pulling her away to look her over. “Are you alright?! What happened?!”

Tilieth blinked a few times, seeming to orient herself, and then she smiled reassuringly, cupping his cheek. “I’m okay, Abel. It was the slate - look!”

Her unease melted away in lieu of eagerness and curiosity as she held the slate in front of him. At his confused expression, she explained, “The travel gates! If you touch a travel gate the slate takes you there! I just went to the tower and then came back here!”

“It… takes you… the slate teleports you?”

“Yes!” Tilieth smiled. “Isn’t that wonderful? We could travel to any of these shrines!”

Despite the information pouring over him in a similar fashion to the rain, Abel found himself finally growing a little warm with hope. That could make their current predicament much easier.

“Give it to me,” he said, holding out his hand. “I can activate the gate on the other shrine.”

“Not in the rain, you’re not! You can’t climb with Link like this,” Til argued, grabbing his wrist. “Let’s get inside, you’re shivering.”

Shivering though he was, he could tell his wife was trembling almost as badly. Once they reentered the shrine, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tilieth rubbed her arms in a small hug, chuckling nervously. “I… I am. Just unsettled by that. But I mean, it’s also great!”

Abel watched her uncertainly. “...Can it transport more than one person?”

Both grew silent, and the large, empty shrine hummed ominously as they contemplated the matter. That wasn’t… exactly something they wanted to test out.

“It… should be safe, right?” Tilieth said hesitantly.

Abel didn’t have any reassurance to give, only the fact that he and Link could potentially use it to get back to this shrine once they’d crossed the mountain. The wind that was sucked in between the Dueling Peaks would at least give them a good boost over, but coming back…

Honestly, it was worth a try if it meant he wasn’t paragliding across mountains with an endless fall waiting for him. He wasn’t exactly a fan of heights.

“Did it hurt?” he asked.

“No,” Tilieth immediately answered. “Honey, I told you I’m fine.”

Abel directed his attention towards Link. His wife didn’t appear to be injured, but he didn’t want to exacerbate whatever Link was enduring.

That was also when he realized that Link’s eyelashes were fluttering. He hastened over to his boy, kneeling and shaking him lightly. “Link. Wake up.”

Tilieth went to his other side, hand resting over his forehead. Despite his efforts, though, the teenager stilled, and his parents sighed.

“We have to try it,” Abel finally said. “We’re running out of time, and I don’t want to risk dropping him either.”

Putting the boy back in his harness, Abel slowly rose and went outside. Tilieth gave him a drawing she’d made of the patterns inside the shrine. 

“It has to do with the glowing orbs, I’m sure of it,” she said with conviction. “See what you can figure out. I’ll be here, okay?”

Abel nodded, paraglider in his sweaty grip as the wind howled. Taking a deep breath, he decidedly refused to look down, and despite every fiber of his being screaming to not jump where there is no ground , he kicked off from the mountain.

Having started from the very top of the peak, its twin didn’t seem too much taller. However, the combined weight of the former knight and his boy did drag them down a little bit. Abel grunted when he hit the wall, one arm desperately clinging to a stone while the other put the paraglider away. Then he started to climb, and he had to look up and almost mutter a prayer of thanks when the top was just a few reaches away.

This new shrine mirrored the other one, which wasn’t a surprise. Thankfully, with Til’s drawing, the solution became clear quickly. Abel hastily put the orbs where they belonged and snatched up his son in his arms, letting him touch the barrier that encased the monk. When they were teleported outside, the thought of it gave Abel pause. They were constantly being transported as a group - surely the slate could handle what the shrines could do, then?

With Link resting comfortably on his back, Abel looked at the slate, finger hesitantly hovering over the twin shrine. He swallowed and pressed against it.

Immediately, Abel felt a strange lightness to him. His feet left the ground, and he had a strong sense of pulling before the world went white hot and then vanished into darkness for a moment. Then he blinked and in a dizzying realization found himself standing, shakily, in front of the shrine on the other mountain. He gasped for air, having forgotten to breathe, and then anxiously reached up to feel Link still sleeping peacefully on his back.

That… was… not as bad as he expected. And it was far more efficient.

Thank goodness for that .

Entering the shrine, Abel quickly turned over the parchment that Til had given him to show his own drawing to his wife. He smiled as she watched him hopefully. “It worked. And we can solve this one too now.”

Tilieth stole the parchment away before he could get another word in, eagerly moving orbs around. He settled Link on the floor and watched her, giddy with the utmost relief . 

It was about damn time something went their way.

Abel was going to rest a little, but he felt amusement mixed with pity swirl inside him as Tilieth started struggling to carry the ball by the third column. He stepped over to assist her, and she quietly handed the heavy stone over to him, looking a little guilty.

“It’s all right,” he appeased her. 

“You’ve been carrying Link all day,” Tilieth sighed. “I wanted to do something for you.”

“You figured out the shrines,” Abel assured her as he placed the last three stones. “That’s more important than anything. Besides, you climbed the tower - you have reason to be tired.”

As his words echoed in the chamber, the entranceway to the monk’s chamber opened with a hiss, and the couple smiled at each other.

By this point they had managed to find three spirit orbs since departing the plateau. That was nearly as many as what was on the plateau itself. After four shrines Link had stopped bleeding and had even awoken briefly to ingest something. Surely if they could find one more, they’d have similar luck. At least, that was the hope.

Hope. Hope . Goddess above, Abel felt a sense of hope . He huffed a little as he watched Tilieth finger comb Link’s hair while they planned their descent down the mountain. Although he’d known the shrine was meant to heal Link, hope was never quite a word he’d thought about or felt since the Calamity.

It probably won’t last , a bitter voice muttered in the back of his mind.

He looked away from his family. No… perhaps it wouldn’t. But for now he wouldn’t fight it. It almost felt real. Besides, he had to focus on the objective, anyway. Arguing about how his emotions were involved wasn’t going to solve their current predicament.

Abel took a step forward, and the slate chirped.

The couple glanced at the object curiously. Was it the sensor again? Did it detect another shrine? Abel’s earlier frustration with the object had lessened considerably, but he was still hesitant to try and follow its signal. Tilieth seemed equally uncertain, as she opted for looking around for physical clues rather than just grabbing the slate and using it as a compass.

His wife gasped in delight as she looked over the edge. “Abel! There’s another shrine along the main path!”

Along the main path ? Glancing in the same area, looking straight down and feeling his stomach twist a little at the height, he saw an orange glow.

Honestly, at this point, he wasn’t sure if he should be pleased that they found the easily accessible one last or exasperated that it was just their luck. Either way, a shrine was a shrine. “Well… that makes things less complicated. It looks like it’s on a trail going down the mountain.”

So they wouldn’t have to climb or jump. Thank the goddess.

The pair moved quickly, saddling up and stepping with haste. The next shrine came into view, and upon entering, the new puzzle quickly became apparent.

“The switches control the platforms,” Tilieth muttered as she stepped on one and watched a flat platform slant so that a ball could roll into an awaiting receptacle. “I suppose the slate was correct in saying timing is critical.”

“These are children’s puzzles, Til,” Abel commented dryly. “Let’s go.”

And children’s puzzles they were. The first was laughably simple and easy, and thank goodness for that. They deserved the break. He again found himself wondering how these were designed to strengthen the Hero in preparation for the Calamity. Timing in battle was important, of course, but regular combat training could teach that far better than this game of switches and balls. 

Abel’s mouth twisted downward in mild annoyance as the second puzzle sent the ball flying against a wall and down into the bottomless pit.

“Oh, yes, so very easy,” Tilieth giggled. “Maybe let me do this.”

“I’ve got it,” Abel quipped mildly, slightly annoyed as another ball fell from the ceiling to replace the one he’d lost. He quickly got the second ball in its place, hopping onto the lift to get to the last one. The ball slid into place perfectly with one attempt, and the pair let the lift take them to the final platform. Tilieth’s gaze immediately drifted to a treasure chest that was just out of view, and Abel grabbed her gently but firmly by the hand. “Come on, Til, we don’t have time for treasure hunting. Nearly got someone killed with that.”

Tilieth didn’t argue, reasonably in agreement with him, though she still looked a little disappointed. Abel found it a little endearing - his wife’s excitement for discovery was one of her traits that had attracted him in the first place. But by heaven, if it wasn’t a fault when they had an actual mission to complete.

“You know,” Tilieth said thoughtfully. “We actually haven’t gotten any the chests from any of the last three shrines. Why don’t you rest with Link and I’ll see if—”

“Til,” Abel interrupted with a halfhearted glare.

“I’m serious!” Tilieth argued. “It could have important items! Like the sword I found you.”

“Or all the amber you’ve found?” Abel fired back.

“You need to rest anyway,” Tilieth pointed out. “ I’m the one doing the searching. And now I have a way to travel easily between shrines.”

Abel was going to argue further, but his wife pleading look practically screamed let me have this , and he gave in with a heavy sigh.

It wasn’t like anything inside the shrines had been dangerous this time.

“Fine,” he finally said, admitting defeat.

When the pair was transported outside, Abel returned into the shrine while Tilieth eagerly started messing with the slate. He slid to the floor, placing Link on his lap and leaning against the wall tiredly. It was getting dark - he hoped she wouldn’t take too long.

Abel’s gaze drifted down to his son. The burn on his neck was light pink like freshly healed skin. It had been deeper this morning. He smiled at the improvement, but it would definitely scar.

He still couldn’t believe it had even managed to heal as much as it had. Then again, it had been ten years. How long would it have taken that shrine to finish healing if a decade’s work was what the body could accomplish in a few weeks? Abel knew the boy had been far too injured for proper healing, but…

Abel took one step blindly. Then another. He couldn't take his eyes off the boy, he couldn't get words to form. He reached out, his hand trembling, eyes wide with horror, screams caged in his chest, dying with what was left of his heart.

The still fingers. The still feet. The still body. The paleness, the redness, the black and blue and–

Abel couldn't breathe.

Abel snapped out of the memory, his body rigid from experiencing it anew, shaking his head to rid the images from his mind. Goddess. It had been years since he’d thought about that night.

“Why can’t you just wake up, little knight,” he pleaded quietly, brushing some hair out of the boy’s face.

What he would give to see the boy’s blue eyes again. What he would give to see his boy smile, or frown, or pout, or bear that stony expression that had carved his features for the last few years before everything fell apart. He’d take anything, he’d give anything, just to see him again.

The hum of the lift caught his attention instead, and he saw Tilieth rushing forward with a satisfied smile, light blonde hair disheveled. He raised an eyebrow at her appearance. “Everything… all right?”

“Found some weapons for you,” she said triumphantly, showing him a serpentine spear. “Off to get the chest here.”

Abel shrugged as she ran by, leaving the weapon beside him. She bested the puzzles even faster than he had, knowing what to expect. He lost sight of her, but the anxiety from watching her take off across chasms had started to fade. She had managed so far, after all… and to be honest he was fairly certain his mind was growing numb from exhaustion.

He felt frustrated at that, bringing forth some life in him once more. He couldn’t afford to be too tired to care. He had to protect his family. Before he could properly chastise himself and stand, though, Tilieth was back, presenting him with a new gift.

Abel stared at it. “A bandana?”

“Not just any bandana,” Tilieth said as if she were announcing the star of a play. “The slate said it’s called the climber’s bandana, and it’s enhanced with technology to give you core strength and help you climb more easily.”

Abel’s expression grew deadpan. “A technological bandana that makes me magically stronger.”

“Oh, just try it on!”

He sighed heavily, taking the garment. “I’m going to look like a Lurelin fisherman in this, or worse, a pirate.”

“It might look fetching on you!”

Honestly, it was once again not worth arguing. At least his wife’s fetch quests were over. “We should keep moving. The stable isn’t far from here, and we can rest there for the night.”

Tilieth’s bright expression faded. “...Abel… the stable was destroyed in the Calamity.”

The words settled in his mind like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake. Years of memories spent resting on the last leg of his journey home, or giving the children a break from riding before they set out on a long trip, flashed before his eyes and were burned away in guardian fire. Abel swallowed. “Of course it was. Was there anything left? We could salvage something, at least.”

Tilieth hugged herself, looking away. Abel wanted to kick himself for even asking. She wanted to speak of the Calamity even less than he did. To placate and distract her, he put the bandana on. “How do I look?”

Tilieth giggled, brushing some hair aside that had fallen into his eyes, trapped in place by the cloth. “Like a dashing knight.”

“You always say that,” Abel huffed with a smile, nuzzling her nose. “How dark is it outside?”

“The sun’s already set.”

Abel chewed his lip, debating the matter. It would be better to cover more ground, but if the stable was completely destroyed, they'd have no cover for the beasts of the night.

Tilieth fidgeted. “The slate… did seem to pick up another shrine, though. In the direction of the stable and…”

And the fort.

Abel suddenly felt his blood freeze. He shook it off, though. “Well if there are more shrines, best get them in while we can. Kakariko will be close enough that we can get to it by the end of tomorrow if we just get to the stable.”

Tilieth hesitantly agreed. The couple headed out once more. Tilieth took the paraglider from her husband and hopped off the ledge, giving him anxiety as he called out to her. When he looked down at the main path on the ground, Tilieth was smiling up at him.

“It isn’t that far of a fall,” she reassured him. “And when it’s just me it’s very easy to glide! Oh, I wish I’d had one of these sooner.”

So you could give me a heart attack sooner? Memories of Link and their daughter, Lyra, pitching themselves off the freshly made stable roof to jump into the little pond by their home passed in his mind. He honestly wasn’t sure how he hadn’t gotten grey hair before the Calamity with the way his family was.

Shaking his head, he opted to climb down rather than follow the slope, as it would reunite them faster. As he did so, he found himself moving more expediently, Link somehow feeling a little lighter. Concerned, he looked at his son, but from his vantage he could see nothing different. When he reached the bottom he made a motion to pull the harness off and look his son over, when Tilieth clapped in delight. “The bandana does help!”

Abel blinked. Was that it?

Good grief. A magical bandana. He shouldn’t be surprised at this point.

A bokoblin horde stood between them and the end of the Dueling Peaks trail, and Abel dispatched them quickly. They had conveniently left a fire just out of sight, allowing him to send a flaming arrow towards some explosive barrels they were harvesting. Nature took care of the rest.

When they rounded the corner of the mountainside, Abel didn’t know what he was going to see, nor did he know what he’d expected. But the old stable was… certainly not in its better days. The giant horse head that usually decorated the tent was long gone, traces of wood all that remained, splintered across the field. The fabric of the tent was mostly torn and rotted, though some of the bare bones of the stable remained. In fact…

Were those people around there?

Abel remembered the traveler’s words from the morning, how some had taken to attacking others to get the resources they needed, and he grew tense.

“Abel, look! There’s another tower! And the shrine’s right here!”

Tilieth tapped him incessantly, pulling him towards a small pond that the children had loved to play in whenever they’d stopped at the stable. Had that shrine always been there? Abel felt like he would have remembered if it had.

Well. They hadn’t started excavating Sheikah technology when the kids were little. But how could this have hidden so easily?

And why in the world did it have a barricade around it?

The movement in his peripheral vision settled, and Abel turned sharply to realize that he’d lost track of the people who had been by the stable. His heart started racing, and he quickly started to unstrap the harness that held Link. “Watch him. I have to make sure those people don’t get near us.”

“People? What people?” Tilieth asked, looking around wildly as she bent down to brace Link against herself.

“We need to find a way in the shrine,” Abel advised, drawing his blade. “It’ll be safe there.”

He really regretted suggesting they move forward. He’d just wanted to save them some time. Impa supposedly had answers for them, after all, and they could only play this game for so long if Link didn’t wake up once more.

Abel felt something get snatched off his head, and he turned to see Tilieth tying the bandana behind her ears. “What are you…?”

“You focus on the threats, I’ll focus on the shrine,” she said quietly, taking the harness from him as well. “I’ll get him inside, don’t worry.”

Nodding, he turned to face the stable once more, but there was still no movement. Where had those people gone? Had they not noticed the couple?

When he turned to make sure he knew Tilieth’s position, he saw her climbing the mountainside with Link on her back. He hissed her name to get her attention - she didn’t need to be exposed for the entire world to see like that–

Tilieth pushed off from the stone, pulling out the paraglider and floating over the wooden stakes that guarded from the shrine, landing heavily at the building’s doorstep. Huffing, she collapsed onto her hands and knees and gave Abel a weak smile with a thumb’s up.

Abel sighed, equal parts exasperated and proud. He saw his wife enter the shrine with their boy, and his chest tightened in worry once more. He hoped whatever puzzle awaited them wasn’t too serious.

After a few minutes, the former knight quickly started to surmise that the lack of movement was likely because whoever was by the stable had gone to sleep. It seemed… awfully trusting of them. Surely, they had to have someone on watch. He wasn’t going to find out.

Taking an uneasy guardpost by the wooden stakes, Abel sheathed his sword, keeping his senses alert.

When someone did emerge from the stable, he narrowed his eyes, hackles raised, until he quickly realized that it was a child .

The little girl in question couldn’t have been more than eight or nine–Lyra’s age when the Calamity took her, his mind whispered. She had dark brown hair and wore clothes that were strikingly similar to styles Lyra had worn.

Those were Hateno clothes.

The child snuck over quickly to Abel’s area, eyes fixed on the shrine. Abel slowly and quietly crept behind the structure so she wouldn’t see him, crouching to hide just below the barricade. The girl picked up some pebbles and threw them into the water.

“Uma!” someone hissed, barely audible over the waterfall crashing behind him. “Get inside, it isn’t safe!”

“But I’m making a wish on the shrine!” Uma argued. “Kelnick said–”

“Uma, come inside, now . That shrine is dangerous, we put a barrier there for a reason!”

Said barrier suddenly burst into flames, magically burning away despite the water it was sitting in. Abel leapt back, alarmed, and the little girl screamed.

And then Tilieth emerged, looking satisfied with herself. Her expression immediately grew panicked when she saw the child and her mother, who were both looking at her in terror.

Abel stepped forward, sheathing his blade and holding his hands out. “We’re not here to cause trouble. Go back to the stable with your daughter.”

“You—the building!” the mother pointed at the shrine. Her eyes traced beyond the shrine and Tilieth, however, and settled on Link, and she let out a gasp. “Is he okay?”

Abel grew tense, but he tried not to become too defensive. The woman was clearly not a threat, and he refused to make the same mistake, even if he didn’t trust her.

“He’s…” Tilieth looked hesitantly at Abel. Neither had really planned on explaining anything of Link’s situation to anyone aside from Impa. After all, the king had spoken of attacks from Ganon, a thought that sent a chill shuddering down Abel’s spine. He had absolutely no intention of making Link any more vulnerable than he was.

“He’s ill,” Abel said succinctly. “Caught something earlier in the day. We’re letting him rest. He’ll be fine.”

“Oh, but you–you should sleep somewhere where there’s shelter, in case there’s rain,” the mother insisted. “We’ve been trying to rebuild the stable, there’s some space for people to sleep now. You should come inside, there are a handful of us.”

“We’re fine,” Abel said warily.

“Please,” the woman continued, pulling her child to her. “I… I know people are scared of strangers these days. But… my father used to run this stable, and I want to be able to make it a place of safety again. I promise nobody will hurt you. My husband has even been practicing fighting! He’s gotten pretty good at fending off ‘blins with a farming pitchfork.”

Tilieth’s hesitancy started to fade, and the look in her eyes spoke more of we should help them than they’re going to hurt Link .

Abel sighed. Tilieth wasn’t wrong in the change of the situation. If the only defense the stable had was a half trained farmer, they weren’t very safe. But he couldn’t exactly lend his aid - he had to take care of Link.

“We need a place to stay the night anyway,” Tilieth whispered.

Abel opened his mouth to argue and found no words coming out. He couldn’t justify abandoning these people when they were in such a false sense of security. But one night’s protection wasn’t going to save them, either. Nevertheless, he relented, though it didn’t drain him of all the tension. Just because this woman was trustworthy didn’t mean her guests were.

He wasn’t sleeping tonight.

“Very well,” he agreed reluctantly.

As Abel followed the mother into the dilapidated remains of the stable, he clenched his jaw tightly to stave off the emotions wreaking havoc inside of him. Little Lyra ran across his vision, giggling in delight as she chased a butterfly. Little Link pointed to all the horses and gave them names and tried to climb into the pen with all the animals. He shook his head, and his children’s ghosts vanished. He had to focus.

Inside, the beds were all broken or burnt husks, but pillows and blankets had been stacked on the side that still had some canvas covering the half broken tent frame. There were four other people inside. The husband was obvious, wearing a blend of Hateno traditional attire with a stablekeep’s hat, while–

Oh. It was those siblings again.

Thankfully, both were fast asleep. That left one more guest, who immediately made Abel feel a strange sense of both unease and relief.

It was a Sheikah warrior.

Her attire, skin tight and dark, denoted her style of fighting. Her hair was pulled up in a tight topknot, and her face was mostly covered in a black cloth, leaving only hazel eyes, which were watching him intensely. A spear rested loosely on her lap.

Tilieth smiled at her. “You’re a Sheikah, right?”

Abel really wished his wife wasn’t so friendly sometimes. He knew he should be happy to see another Sheikah, but he couldn’t shake the paranoia that had started to creep up his spine ever since leaving the plateau. It had been too long since he’d dealt with other people, it seemed. At least the mother was defenseless, the child harmless. A warrior was a threat, no matter where they were from these days.

He definitely wasn’t sleeping tonight.

The woman nodded mutely, her eyes drifting elsewhere, and Abel realized they were resting decidedly on Link.

They widened.

Abel’s hand slowly reached for his sword, and the warrior rose abruptly, turning away too quickly for him to react and start a fight. Without a single word, the warrior went outside.

The new stablewoman called after the warrior, a little more quietly so as not to disturb the others, and her husband watched with mild concern before turning his attention to them.

“It’s good to see other travelers out here,” he said softly. “Nice to see people venturing out again, you know? I hope you know you’re safe here. I keep watch at night while my wife runs things during the day. That way people are always safe. That’s our first priority.”

Abel stared outside, having lost sight of the Sheikah warrior, and the stablewoman returned, chewing her lip, clearly upset.

“Did she leave?” the stableman asked.

His wife nodded. “I hope we didn’t upset her or anything.”

“Who was she?” Abel asked, eyes narrowing.

“We don’t know,” the woman answered. “We don’t ask those kinds of questions. It isn’t our business, and we don’t really have enough of a business yet to have a ledger.”

Abel sighed and turned his attention to Tilieth. “I don’t think he’s waking up today, Til. Just try to get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

“Keep watch?” Tilieth repeated quietly as the pair chose a corner to settle in. “Honey, you need to sleep.”

The former knight shook his head. “This isn’t a shrine. It isn’t as safe. And honestly, as we unlock them, they’re going to attract attention and visitors.”

Which meant the shrines weren’t safe either once they were unlocked. At least not from people - it seemed monsters couldn’t breach them. Given the stablewoman’s fright over them, though, it was possible people would steer clear of them anyway.

Abel sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. This was getting increasingly more complicated. The sooner they got to Kakariko the better. Maybe he could feel safe there. Maybe they would be safe there.

Tilieth settled into an uneasy sleep, Link at her side, and Abel watched them rest.

“You can sleep too, you know,” the stableman piped in encouragingly with a smile. “I’ve got watch.”

Abel stared at the man, his gaze apparently intense enough to make the stablehand shrivel a little under his scrutiny. The man was certainly harmless enough, but Abel didn’t really deem him capable of protecting his family. He wouldn’t leave that in a farmer’s hands, whether he’d fought bokoblins off or not.

Rising, Abel decided to go for a patrol of the stable. His body fought him with every step, clashing priorities in his mind.

You should stay with them. Don’t let them out of your sight.

The farmer will keep watch of them. I’ll hear if something breaks out. I’ll see threats better if I’m outside rather than waiting for them to arrive.

You don’t want to see the fort. You don’t.

He really didn’t.

Fort Hateno had been a beacon of hope when the Calamity had struck. He’d sent his son there to regroup.

He’d promised Link he’d meet him there. Instead he found him in the woods, carried by two Sheikah warriors.

The world spun nauseatingly, and Abel leaned against a fractured wooden frame.

He didn’t have to see the fort. He didn’t need to see it. It was too dark to make out at this distance, anyway. He just needed to make sure nobody attacked the stable.

And it was a good thing too, because there was, in fact, a monster horde making camp nearby. He could see their distorted faces in the flames, though the bokoblins were settling in to sleep for the night. Gritting his teeth, he crept towards their lair, drawing his sword.

A horn blared. Abel looked up and saw a bokoblin on top of a husk of a guardian, blending into the darkness, and he swore.

There weren’t many enemies, honestly. Nine bokoblins was hardly a challenge. But it was the largest horde he’d seen so far, and his fights were far easier when he had armor, a sturdy shield, and hadn’t been running and climbing and carrying his son and being battered and bruised by a talus and a flying tree.

He really was getting too old for this.

Still. He’d killed far more than nine beasts at a time before the Calamity. This would be no different.

Abel snarled as the first bokoblin approached, and he slipped into the battle easily. With each bokoblin slain, he felt a little more like his old self, energized by the rush of adrenaline, the aches of the day burning away.

Nine was a little much when he didn’t have armor, though.

One bokoblin managed to scrape a hit, knocking the wind out of Abel as club met bone, and he rolled to get away from them, cornering himself against a stony wall. He rose quickly, but there were three beasts in front of him now, and his shield wasn’t in the shape it used to be. He saw it dent quickly under one blow, and after he felled two of the three, more took their place. He pushed his foot against the wall behind him, closing the distance as one of the ‘blins created an opening, and an arrow whizzed by his ear, making his veins fill with ice.

Where was the archer? Was it the same beast that had sounded the alarm? He couldn’t defend from the sky as well as the ground.

The bright full moon shifted, a silhouette cutting into its clear white hue, and he saw a bokoblin take aim. He readied his shield but had to parry another attack instead, and after shoving the remaining bokoblins away and creating some space, he looked up to see the bokoblin skewered on a spear, a thin feminine frame behind it.

Abel didn’t have time to consider the matter. He dispatched the last few bokoblins quickly and took a breath, feeling his ribs protest. He clenched his jaw to stifle a groan.

The Sheikah warrior from earlier easily landed beside him, settling her spear on a harness on her back. “You alright?”

“I’ve been worse,” Abel answered truthfully. This didn’t quite feel like a broken rib. Probably just bruised. But at least there would be no monster camp by the stable now. Belatedly, he tacked on, “Thanks for getting rid of the archer.”

The warrior gave a short nod in acknowledgement. She continued to look him over.

“I said I was fine,” Abel reiterated, growing tense under her gaze. He tried to shift the attention off himself. “Who are you, anyway?”

The warrior watched a moment longer and then looked away, debating something. Then she turned away from him. “My name is Sheik.”

With that, the warrior climbed the wall and leapt into a tree, disappearing. Abel watched her for a while longer and then finally gave up. Wherever she was going, he wouldn’t be able to follow anyway.

Sighing, he returned to the stable, slowly lowering himself to the ground to sit beside his sleeping family.

Just one more day. One more day and they’d be at Kakariko.