#she's not some mage who needs to look flawless in the middle of the battle

[icy-warden]

Thanks to this post I now hc that with time Saskia’s hair gets shorter while Nelaros’ gets longer 😌

[retroateez]

Prophecy - Chapter Six

wc; 1957

You had never been so overwhelmed in your entire life.

Standing in the middle of a packed market, glued to Yeosang's side. Ateez's market was probably 5 times the size of the one you routinely stole from not so long ago. Atinians bustled around you, some behind stalls piled high with goods for sale, some rushing past you in muddy, floor length cloaks.

Children play amidst the adults doing their daily business. You didn't know what they were playing, but judging by the sticks in their hands, they were pretending to be wizards. Or maybe they were imitating the guards? You pitied them, knowing that the young children most likely idolised the figures who were supposed to 'protect' them. Realistically, the guards didn't give a shit. About any of them.

"Come, follow me." Yeosang mutters into your ear, tugging your sleeve.

You follow him obediently, accidentally tripping him up a few times from how closely you stick by his side.

Yeosang brings you to a small building a few streets away from the market. The glass windows are completely filthy, but the plants underneath it are freshly watered and bursting with colour. Yeosang pushes the door open and a bell tinkles to indicate your arrival.

"Morning!" a voice calls out from the other end of the shop. "Welcome to the Ateez Apothecary! What can I help you with?"

Behind a wooden counter, stands a tall man with a sweep of curly, gingerbread coloured hair. He smiles at you, and you're positive his grin could melt butter. As you get closer, you're also convinced he holds the entire galaxy in his eyes. Even the most expert astrologer would have difficulty telling apart this man's eyes and the glittering stars in the sky. His cheeks fill out when he smiles wider (if that was even possible), recognising the mage you were accompanying.

"Yeosang? It's been ages since I last saw your face around here! How's it going?" His accent  is rougher than Yeosang's, still soft but possessing a twang you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Yeosang nods, offering a small, slightly awkward smile in return.

"Nice to see you again, Yunho."

Yunho peers over Yeosang's shoulders to look at you. Which isn't hard; you don't think you've seen anybody as tall as him before.

"Who's this, eh? Finally got yourself a girlfriend? About time, 'Sang!"

Both you and Yeosang flush an angry red, mortified at the thought of having that kind of relationship with each other.

"No!" Yeosang counters quickly. "She's my... student."

Yunho nods, looking at Yeosang expectedly.

"Yunho, this is Iris. Iris, this is Yunho. He runs the apothecary here in Ateez, he's also their main doctor."

"Nice to meet you!" You reciprocate Yunho's giant grin with a short, polite smile of your own. The unsettling feeling in your gut hadn't weakened in the slightest, and this incredibly tall, baby-faced medic wasn't  going to change that.

You hung around by the door while Yeosang bought all the ingredients he needed, not wanting to get in the way or interupt a conversation you knew little to nothing about.

The shop had rows of ceiling high shelves placed in the middle of the room, the only empty space being a straight passage from the door to the counter where Yunho stood. You peeked into the glass jars on the shelves, recognising plants such as lemon balm and chickweed that Yeosang grew himself at home.

Further down the shelves were much bigger jars containing suspicious things you couldn't make out, although some of the questionable things floating around in the jars of water looked like body parts of small animals, so you decided you would rather not know.

You watch as Yunho retrieves various items from the cupboards behind him, placing them into a worn, cloth bag and tying it with a small cord of rope. You notice his hands were large, probably the same size as Yeosang's. They were more careful than the mage's though, littered with tiny scars across his fingers. A skilled doctor's hand, you guessed. Yunho picks things up gently, putting a handful of griffin feathers into the bag as if they were made of the finest Yirelian crystal, whereas Yeosang practically flings bowls of porridge at you during breakfast.

You wave goodbye to Yunho once Yeosang had purchased everything he needs. He waves back, flashing his signature grin that you couldn't help but show a similar smile of your own.

"Bye Yeosang! See you later, little lady!" Yunho winks at you as you leave his shop, leaving you wondering if he's that friendly to all his customers.

---

Yeosang spends the next couple of hours showing you around Ateez, leading you back through the market and up through the streets, past packed taverns and a fairly run-down school, ushering you past what appears to be a brothel in the dingiest parts of the town. He doesn't take you up the steps to the highest parts of the kingdom, explaining that only the rich live up there, and you'd probably be thrown straight back down them by the guards if you even tried it.

He takes you to the plaza at the base of the staircase, cautiously eyeing up the armoured guards who are just dying for a commoner to try legging it up the stairs so their jobs are a little less dull. In this area of the city, the cobblestone streets are filthy, horse shit packed into the cracks of the stone by carriage wheels and people's shoes; you could see why the wealthy had their own part of the kingdom, you don't think you'd want to live here either.

Yeosang points up just past your shoulder, towards the staircase.

"You see up there?" he asks you. "That tower with the fire in it?"

You nod, seeing a giant stone tower, glowing a salamandrine orange at it's peak. It's the highest building of the royal court and the only part of the grounds you can see from your lowered position.

"That's where the King lives. And all his pretentious staff." he spits.

You wonder how many people live on the royal grounds, just how many staff the king has. You wonder what the king is doing right now, surrounded by luxury, riches and everything anybody could ever want while you and the commoners of the city make do with what you can within eye view of his castle.

"You don't seem particularly fond of him, Yeosang." you chuckle.

He laughs bitterly in response.

You wonder what the king is like; is he as insufferable as Yeosang makes him out to be? In your mind, the king is a fairly old man, strong but frayed around the edges with time and wisdom. He's dealt with enough shit to last him mutiple lifetimes, in your fantasy he's fought in epic battles, maybe he even has a scar running through his eye like fairytale kings do.

"Like I said, we tolerate each other. Anyway, we should be getting home."

You retrace your steps, hurrying back past the brothel, which now as it's getting dark has strumpets filing out the doors, ready for a nights work. The women are beautiful, dressed in almost nothing to accentuate their curves and entice customers. You frown, wondering if they enjoy what they do. You hope those who don't find a career they love. They smile at you though, and you smile back. Something inside you yearns to look as gorgeous as they do; face made up and an outfit that looks flawless on your body. For now, Yeosang's oversized hand-me-downs will have to suffice.

As you near the market, Yeosang notices a sizeable crowd gathered around a small collection of stalls. Which just so happens to be right in your way. The blonde grabs onto your hand tightly, instructing you to not let go.

He drags you towards the gaggle of people, muttering 'excuse me's' and cursing people who refuse to move out of his way. Helplessly, you allow him to pull you along, not sure what you could even do to help with your small stature, attempting to stab the strangers with your narrow shoulders nonetheless.

You're in the thick of the crowd now, and you overhear the arguments of angry Atinians around you. Their anger continues to grow, and the furious merchant shoves one of his former customers over his table of goods, sending him sprawling into the crowd.

You just manage to avoid being sent flying yourself, but in the madness you discover you're no longer clutching Yeosang's palm in your hand.

Maybe it was the horde of angry people around you, or maybe it was the panic of losing Yeosang. It could have been the dread that had been slowly rising up inside you since you laid eyes on this stupid kingdom finally engulfing you like flames, the burning fires licking at your skin and furiously spitting heat in all directions. Whatever it was, it hit you like a sack of bricks, causing you to grab onto the nearest table to lean on and catch your breath.

Unfortunately,  with your vision blurred, you completely miss the table,and  instead your arm lurches out and sweeps all the produce onto the street with an unmissable crash.

You can't see, you can't breathe, and your head feels like a horse is stomping on it over and over again.

"Y-yeosang-" You call out weakly, but the enraged yell of the merchant drowns out your cry.

"What's this?" He spits at you. "A fuckin' thief? You scummy little bastards never fuckin' learn do yah?"

He grabs you harshly by the back of your neck, hauling you up off the ground towards him and your back crashes into his chest.

"Guards!" he screams. "Caught another one of the filthy street rats!"

The merchant snarls behind you, but you can't focus on him. The crowd has partially dissipated, allowing you to see the clear figure of Yeosang, a few metres behind the mob. You blink furiously, not believing that Yeosang was just... standing there?

Staring at you, frozen in place.

You open your mouth to shout his name, properly this time, but a cruel hand clamps over the lower half of your face, and your arms are yanked behind you. You're surprised they didn't pop your shoulders out of their sockets.

"Another thief, eh?" The guard has a vice grip on you, his voice teasing but still dripping with malice. "The kingsguard really isn't going to be impressed."

"Fifth one today!" Another guard speaks.

"Maybe he'll kill you himself!"

The guards begin to tug you away from the market, their patronizing comments falling on your deaf ears, as you focus only on  Yeosang in the distance through cloudy eyes.

He raises his right arm slowly, not too large of a movement to attract unwanted attention, but enough for you to spot it. He mumbles something, you being too far now to hear or even lip-read, but you know he's about to do magic. You've spent enough time with him, watching him perform the smallest feats of magic which leave you in awe.

You begin to guess what he's about to do; unleash an enormous kinetic blast to send these pathetic civilians reeling? Invoke the gods of chaos themselves and bring down a fireball storm to make everybody scatter?

Your heart drops into your stomach when you realise Yeosang does none of those things.

Instead, he turns his head away from you, bringing his right arm down forcefully and and fast as you can blink, he's gone.

With just an instant, blinding flash of white light that leaves you momentarily blind.

Leaving nothing but a faint cloud of yellow hued smoke in his place.

Chapter Seven

[megsblackfirewrites]

Blood Retribution: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

“Agents Carrier, Svenson, and Zhang have returned from the Oracle, sir.”

“And?”

“They report that…the Oracle strongly advised against what we are doing.”

“Of course he did. All those old ones have wanted nothing to do with our endeavours. No matter; continue with the excavation. We are almost complete.”

The Talon agent saluted before hurrying off to deliver the orders. The Boss smirked as he looked down over the carved out cave. It had taken a life-time to find the tomb and the prize was so close at hand that he could almost taste it. No amount of whining old vampires could make him change his mind. They were just scared that he would be even stronger than them. Useless and worthless, the lot of them.

He heard shouting down below and grinned. Ah, there we are! They had finally found it. Weeks of digging and blasting rock had finally paid off.

The Boss descended the stairs as quickly as he could, inhaling sharply as he walked. His agents were hauling the old coffin out of its stone confines, shouting at each other as they did their best not to drop the thing. They set it on the examination table and The Boss shivered eagerly.

The old coffin was beautiful, a mesh of dark brown wood and black heartwood from some long forgotten species of tree. The handles were tarnished, but the golden knobs were still intact beneath the layer of corrosion. In the center of the upper portion of the coffin was an intricate design of swirls around a horse skull with a sword in the middle of its forehead.

The fabled coffin of the old vampire lord. If the stories were true, the ancients had bound the old vampire inside his coffin and buried him deep beneath the earth for his hideous crimes. Whatever they were, they would pale in comparison to what humans were capable of now.

“Get the blood mages,” he ordered. “I want this coffin open and the slumbering ancient prepared for the ritual.”

The blood mages hurried to his side and started their chanting. Blood moved freely between them, freshly drained from one of their sanctified chattel. The Boss inhaled eagerly as he saw ancient text dance across the surface of the coffin. So close. He was so close!

One of the mages froze and backed away. “Sir…sir, that lid cannot be opened!” she whispered. “The vampires that slumbers inside…sire, he cannot be bound!”

The Boss turned towards the mage and narrowed his eyes. “You expect me to believe that a blood mage like you cannot bind a vampire?” he growled.

“Not one like this,” she shook her head. “Sir, sire, please!”

“Silence!” The Boss snarled.

He lunged forward and snapped the mage’s neck. He tore her throat open, letting her wasted blood join in with the rest flowing around the coffin. He would not let cowards stop him from achieving his goal. He was too close to fail now.

“Finish the ritual,” he snarled. “I will not be denied my birthright!”

The mages continued chanting, unfazed by the death of one of their own. Mages died as regularly as they were created; death meant little to them. The lid of the coffin trembled, the letters glowing and spinning as blood jumped from one sigil to the next. The chanting reached a fevered pitch before magic exploded outwards.

The Boss threw his arms up in front of his face with an angry shout. He felt the magic burn his suit, but it did not touch his flesh or soul. He lowered his arms and grinned at the coffin as one of his mages lifted the lid up. They let out a gasp as the lid fell back and revealed the vampire slumbering within.

He was as impressive as The Boss had been led to believe. Flawless bronze skin over a powerful body wrapped in the finest black and red cloth. His face was impressively scarred and The Boss could believe that there were more under all the cloth. He had been a warrior, after all, one of the best to ever grace the earth. And soon, that power would be his.

“Begin the ritual,” The Boss purred and licked his fangs. “I want him ready for….”

The ancient’s eyes snapped open and a wild snarl stretched across his face. The mage closest to him let out a gasp before they were grabbed and thrown violently across the cavern. The Boss didn’t have to look to know that his mage died upon impact with the wall. The vampire twisted in on itself, rising up in a cloud of smoke and ash. The red eyes glowed in the depth of the cloud, sweeping rapidly over the agents gathered in the cavern.

“Begin the ritual! He will be bound and I will have his power!” The Boss shouted.

The ancient started laughing, twisting up out of the coffin. The mages started chanting, but it gave way to screaming. The Boss stared as his mages clutched the chests, clawing at their robes as they began to grow slick and wet. He exhaled in horror as one snapped backwards, their spine almost folding in half.

“How?” he whispered as he backed away. “HOW?!”

“Did you really think you could control me, little fledgling?” the ancient chuckled softly. “How arrogant. But, I must thank you for releasing me. How much has this world changed since I last graced it? I hunger, little fledgling. Come feed me."

"RUN!” The Boss shouted. “Run!”

He turned to flee, but he felt the claws of the ancient sink into his flesh. He shouted and struggled to get away, but fangs sank into his throat and tore the flesh open. He fell in the ancient’s grasp, staring as his agents were ensnared in smoke and forced to their knees before the ancient, lifting their heads to expose their throat.

“Such good little humans,” the ancient purred. “I will enjoy this greatly. Thank you, little fledgling. Embrace death.”

The Boss let out a long whimper of denial before he knew no more.

Jack bolted upright in bed and clutched his chest. No. No. NO!

“Jack?” Jesse called from across the room. “What’s wrong? You should be asleep, old man.”

“He’s awake,” Jack whispered as he felt his heart quicken in his chest. “No. No! No, that idiot! He’s been released!”

“Jack?”

“You must leave!” Jack shouted as he scrambled out of his bed. “Jesse, quickly!”

“Jack, calm down, please,” Jesse said as he hurried over and grabbed Jack’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s been released! Your life is in danger now! You swore that you would leave!” Jack shouted.

“I…I did,” Jesse shivered before he swallowed loudly. “But I’m breakin’ that promise.”

“No!” Jack snarled. “I will not have your blood on my hands!”

“It’ll never come to that,” Jesse promised. “We can go into hidin’ together. This bastard’ll never….”

“He’s already coming,” Jack snarled and beat a fist against Jesse’s chest. “He knows where I am. You can’t understand, Jesse; you’re human. You can’t feel what I do. You can’t know what I do. He is coming for me, Jesse, and he will kill you if he gets his hands on you.”

“How do you know that?” Jesse demanded.

“You need to trust….”

“I do! I trust you with my life, Jack,” Jesse snapped. “But I ain’t just gunna abandon ya. What will I do with myself knowin’ I left you to die?”

“I won’t,” Jack murmured. “My fate is not to die at his hands. It is…something else.”

“Jack…who is coming?” Jesse whispered.

“Gabriel,” Jack whispered. “We…are mates.”

Jesse was silent for a long time. He slowly cupped Jack’s cheek and tipped it up towards him. Jack stared ahead into the blackness and scented the air. Jesse’s scents were always rich and expressive and now was no different. Fear, confusion, even the slightest bit of humour; his Jesse was such a wonderful human. He didn’t deserve to die over a protective misunderstanding.

“Jesse, you have to leave,” he said. “I will not lose you.”

“I won’t leave you to suffer,” Jesse said firmly. “No matter what. I promised to serve you, remember?”

“You also promised to leave,” Jack growled.

“Serve first, leave later,” Jesse teased. “Besides, you still need me. If we’re going to stand against yer mate, we need a battle plan.”

“Jesse….”

“We’ll be okay,” Jesse promised before he kissed Jack’s forehead. “Promise.”

“Oh, Jesse,” Jack shook his head. “What will I do with you?”

Gabriel inhaled the sweet air and exhaled loudly. It felt so good to be back out in the world. So much time had passed; the sky was lit up with thousands of lights and the sound of the forest was dampened by the roar of the freeway. Freeway. What a funny word.

He licked his lips before slipping down the hill towards the road. Those Talon agents had been a wonderful feast, both of blood and knowledge, but he still hungered. His stomach was round and bloated, sloshing with countless liters of blood and a bit of tissue. It felt nice to be bloated, but there was something missing. Something he longed for.

A pretty little thing that would snuggle against his belly and pretend he was carrying their young even though they were both incapable of such a thing. A mate that had loved him no matter what, had held his hand through the worst cravings, and had stood by his side until it became clear that he was going to get them all killed. Then his moonlight had turned away from him, had whispered that this was not how he wanted to live. His poor moonlight had been left with no other choice, but that did not mean that Gabriel could let him go unpunished.

He paused beside the roadway, wondering how he was going to get half-way around the world to where his moonlight was hiding. And he knew the vampire was hiding. Why else would he not come running to Gabriel the moment he realized that he was free? So much time had passed���did his darling have a new lover?

Fury unlike anything he had felt in a long time burned through him at the very thought of another person touching his moonlight in such a way. He was Gabriel’s mate, no one else’s! They would not be permitted to touch him any longer! He would tear them limb from limb and he would make his moonlight remember why he took Gabriel as his mate in the first place.

They would rut inside whatever dwelling his mate had taken. He would fill his mate full of seed. He would pull those pretty lips up against his neck and let those sharp little fangs sink into his throat. He would feed his darling on his bloat, never letting him befoul his spirit any more than it already was. His darling would have everything. Everything; all he had to do was remove the new mate and take back what they had lost.

He heard the screaming as he came back to himself. He stared at the destruction in front of him, his mouth watering as the scent of blood filled the air. He drifted closer to the carnage, grinning widely as he watched the humans struggling in their cars to get free. So much blood. So much food. So much knowledge. It would all be his! No one would be able to stop him.

He descended on the banquet, not caring about what he was feeding on. The screaming got louder as he fed, the humans struggling to get away from their mangled cars and the predator that had somehow managed to tear the road apart from underneath them. They were prey, his prey, and he would feast until his stomach split open.

Then he would start the hunt for his moonlight. He would find him and he would see the error of his ways. And their new mate would be eradicated and scattered to the far corners of the globe. No one touched his Jack and lived to tell about it.

[wandering-chronicler-blog]

The Wolf of Farore - Chapter 1

An Ongoing Zelda/Witcher Fusion Fic - Updates Wednesdays/Thursdays

Summary:

War has come to The Kingdom of Hyrule.  The people cry for a savior as monsters and spirits stalk the once green fields of the provinces.  Famine grips the populace as the Gerudo Tribes and their blin allies strike along the borders.  Hope for peace begins to drown in the blood spilled in No Man’s Land.  But Hyrule doesn’t need another hero.  It needs a professional.

Genres:  Action/Adventure, Mystery, War, Political Intrigue

Warnings:  Violence, blood and gore, strong language

Relationships:  Eventual Link/Midna.  Additional relationships will be added as story updates.

Major Cast (in order of appearance) :  Link, Darunia, Gorko, Navi, Saria, Midna, Ralis, Telma, Ruto, Shad.  Additional characters will be added as story updates.

[First] [Next] [Archive] [On Ao3]

"Evil is evil. Lesser, greater, middling... makes no difference. The degree is arbitrary. The definitions blurred. If I'm to choose between one evil and another, I’d rather not choose at all."

 -Geralt of Rivia, The Witcher

CHAPTER 1:  ONE EVIL OR ANOTHER

It was dusk and the fires had already been burned to embers. Epona was grazing on some nearby grasses as he sat under the tree. The simple white tabard of an army trainee draped over chainmail was stained with mud, grass and a little bit of his own blood. He looked at the crystal charm in his hand, watching it carefully and thinking on the events of the day. He knew he couldn’t keep it. He knew he’d have to throw it away since his fears had been proven well-founded. Link bowed his head a little and clenched the sphere bearing the mark of Farore upon it and closed his eyes…

“You know what will happen if you do this,” she’d said. “If you’re wrong. They’ll hunt you down and hang you. Traitors and deserters hang. That’s the law.”

“But I can’t do nothing,” he’d answered. “According to my sources, they’re going to deliberately attack a caravan of wounded refugees and noncombatants.”

“Gerudo refugees, who were spies and assassins they’d say.”

“But we know clearly not all of them are that. We’ve both seen it.” He lowered his head. “I’m supposed to carry The Hero’s Spirit. They call us Chosen. And I was supposedly chosen by Farore herself. But when I start looking, I start seeing the very atrocities I’m supposed to be protecting people against being committed BY the ones I’m working for.” He looked her in the eye. “What kind of hero lets people suffer? What kind of hero doesn’t at least offer a hand in mercy against their enemy before going into battle?” She didn’t get a chance to speak. “What kind of hero am I if I allow acts like this to be carried out?” His eyes narrowed and he gritted his teeth. “I can’t keep doing this. We were supposed to prevent things like this war. And if it was unavoidable to end it swiftly and without excessive bloodshed. Without the madness we’re seeing. Without…” He sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. In his other hands was the green crystal charm. She held it with him, a faint violet glow emanating from her palm over it.

“My sister still thinks we might be able to stop it before the winter.” She looked away from him and shook her head. “I don’t know how she’s able to stay so optimistic. Even when I showed her the records from The Inquisition, she was confident we could still change things if we just stuck together.”

“We can still make this right.” Link looked down to the charm in his hand. He placed his free hand over hers then. “Help me. Help me keep Hyrule from making a terrible mistake.”

There was a long silence between them. She looked down for a moment then back at him. “Then go out the back. I’ll make a small distraction. Just go quickly.” She took a deep breath. “If it works, I’ll meet you at the border...”

“Thank you.”

“Go. Go quickly. Before I change my mind about this.”

…It hadn’t been a flawless escape. He’d hurt a couple guards and when faced with over a dozen of them he surrendered. If not for a stroke of luck the following morning, he’d have still been in that dungeon cell. Of course it had all been too late. He glanced to the valley, having gotten there about two hours ago. All he had now were his thoughts and looking at the charm he’d been so proud of earning so many years ago. He heard something and glanced up. There were soldiers coming his way from the South. There were two warhorses with them, a pair of knights mounted on them. He dropped the charm and stood, seeing two knights and three soldiers now standing before him. The knights dismounted. One approached, pulling the visor of his helm up.

“Link,” he said. “Chosen Champion of The Crown. On orders of the power you serve, you are hereby ordered to relinquish all weapons and symbols of office and surrender.”

“On what charge?” he asked. Immediately, he began to watch them and formulate a plan for escape.

“Desertion of your post.”

“I’m a Chosen. I go where I’m needed.” His blue eyes glanced around again quickly. The guards carried truncheons in addition to their short swords. They were in mail and wore the white and blue tabards of The Kingdom. The knights were in mail with steel cuirasses over their chests and spaulders on their shoulders. They must’ve heard he was near. The puzzle was coming together, as was a way out. “I help the people of Hyrule. Not just The Royal Family.”

“You are needed by the princess’ side!” the other knight shouted.

“No I’m not. She’s safe.” His hand went to his side slowly, casually almost. There was a single smoke bomb in the pouch on his belt, a knife hidden in his right bracer and the recruit’s sword on his back. He couldn’t go for his shield that rested by the tree. “And there are subjects who need me in No Man’s Land.” Link looked the lead knight in the eye. “Turn around. Let me go. If you’re asked, say you couldn’t find me. I’d assume there’s a Chosen with you or at least a Tower Mage so you could find me.”

“If you don’t come with us, we’ll string you up right here!”

“Sir, is that wise?” one of the soldiers asked.

“Chosen are men!” the knight shouted. “Strong fighters, but just men. There are more than enough of us if he tries anything. Besides! He’s a deserter! Deserters hang. That’s the law!”

“Last chance,” Link said. His hand slipped into the pouch and his fingers slipped around the glass orb. He felt his heart picking up speed in his chest. “Walk away. Let me do what I was trained for.”

“He’s not gonna listen,” the other knight said. “String him up!”

The first soldier approached, pulling a rope from their back. The other two moved around his sides. One reached for him and Link pushed them away. The second pulled their truncheon from their belt and took a swing. With preternatural speed, Link moved out of the way of the swing. He caught their arm and hooked one of their legs with his foot. Using their momentum, he sent them into the other soldier. They landed hard on their back with a groan, while the one he’d collided with flipped over and landed face first in the embers of the dying fire. They screamed and stumbled away into the dirt.

The third, who had a rope, dropped it, pulled his sword and charged. Link threw the smoke bomb into him. It shattered against the mail and they stumbled as white smoke filled the air. As they came out of the cloud, he caught their arm with the sword and disarmed them, shoving them headfirst into the tree. The two knights had charged the second they saw the smoke bomb go off, just as he’d hoped. Their longswords were drawn, as opposed to taking the shields from their mounts. Focusing on what he’d been trained, there was a burst of green wind from his feet and for a second, he seemingly blinked out of existence. When his feet landed on the ground again, he was hidden in the smoke.

The knights glanced around. “Where’d he go?” one of them said.

“Help him back up!”

He took the chance and grabbed the arm of one of the knights, pulling them into the smoke. The sword still in his hand, he slammed the pommel of it into their faceplate. Blood spurted from the wound and the knight screamed. The other knight turned around as the smoke had begun to clear. He swung for the hylian. Link blocked the strike with his sword, beating as he parried. Using the moment of shock, he kicked their unarmored knee. They fell forward. As they got up, Link grabbed the club of one of the soldiers and swung it upward into their face. Link dropped the sword in the dirt, seeing one of the soldiers get to their feet and fleeing.

The first knight he’d taken down struggled to their hands and knees. Blood was dripping out the slits of their facemask. “Wh-what in Demise’s name are you? You’ll hang for this, traitor!”

He pushed them back into the ground with his foot. They were too tired to resist. “Maybe,” he said. “But when you see her. And I know you will, tell her this. I am doing exactly what her family trained me to do.” He picked up the charm and his shield, slipping the latter on his back. None of the soldiers still there were in any condition to fight. Link whistled for Epona. The mare trotted over as he wrapped the thread of his charm around the wrists of the knight. The symbol of his office was placed in the knight’s palms. Once done, he quickly mounted.

There was no turning back now for him. They’d come looking for him. It was only a question of time, he thought, before they started to actively hunt him. Even though he hadn’t killed anyone, he’d still wounded several of The Kingdom’s soldiers by now. With no choices left, he at least took solace in the fact that for all the ideals and heroic traits they’d instilled in him had worked all too well. He would fight for people who needed him, regardless of what tribe they belonged to. He spurred his mare onward and in the twilight rode across the war-torn fields of No Man’s Land.