Participants:
@Red Thunder @Elle Joyner
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Fear was a rabid dog, nipping and biting at her heels. Leia was short, but swift, and she'd put a little bit of distance between herself and the hooded menace, but she could still hear screaming all around, and the scent of rotting had filled the air with such an alarming rate. There was no telling how many of the strange beings there were, but there was absolute certainty their intentions were hostile. But what those intentions were was a dark and disturbing mystery.
Racing along the alley ways, Leia's heart pounded as her eyes clouded with tears of panic. Ahead of her, seen a moment too late, two figures appeared and as she streaked to a halt. A hooded fiend was being pummeled with arrows as a large, brightly colored Rito called to the third unseen figure. Then, from the folds of the hooded man's arraignments came a small child...
An instinct took her. Fury struggled up within her belly, a quiet rage that intensified at the look of fear in his precious face. The boy raced towards the rito and as he did, Leia raised her cast iron pan over her head and hurled it with effective force at the cloaked figure’s shrouded face.
“Do NOT touch him, you blighted miscreation!”
The rapidity with which the arrows had struck the fiend's head had given the figure pause. Free hand clutching the side of its head, as if in response to an incredible headache, it had taken another two steps forward. It's face remained obscured, but its invisible gaze still appeared to follow Gus as the boy sprinted back toward the safety of his Rito companion.
It's knife was still raised in preparation for another assault when a force stuck the side of its hood. There was a discordant harmony: the cast iron ringing dully on impact, and the sharp
crack of snapping bone. The hood slumped to the side, away from Leia, as if something heavy pulled on the fabric, and the body collapsed.
At the young woman's shout, Gus had slowed, curiosity getting the better of his terror. He was an anchor to Roscoe as the Rito tried to flee, and while the boy was never going to be able to stop him entirely, Gus still resisted, if only minorly.
"Wooow," the boy whispered, eyeing their defeated enemy with wide eyes.
Roscoe was in absolute terror like a wounded prey running from the predator. Blood rushed into his ears as his heart pounded in his chest with only one thought coursing through his mind: Run. He only wanted to pull the small boy somewhere to safety and away from these monsters that apparently didn’t die, or at least, not by any normal means. How could he possibly face up against anything such as that?
With his mind so set on his goal to flee he nearly missed what was going on behind him: He heard a woman’s shout followed by a very audible
crack. Roscoe probably would have kept running if it weren’t for the slight pull of the boy’s arm as he held his hand that made him pause and turn towards the scene. There, in all her absolute glory, was their rescuer. Roscoe had turned just in time to see the figure fall with a pan falling to the ground beside it, clanking as it bounced off the ground barely an inch before settling back down. The Rito was a statue with wide eyes as he stared, almost waiting for the hooded figure to stand back up again, yet the fabric of its cloak hardly even moved.
The adrenaline all up to that point seemed to leave Roscoe instantly at that moment. He was trembling and he didn’t realize that he was holding Gus close to him. He could feel the full torrent of the burning pain in his leg while all sounds around him seemed to erupt in full force as he became in tune to his surroundings once more. He still did not let Gus go, keeping him close by as his gaze moved to their rescuer.
“Th-thank you,” he finally managed to say.
Staring in wide eyed shock, her hand still outstretched as if in mid-throw, Leia watched the hooded deformity collapse, breathing out an exhale that sounded more akin to a sob. He was safe. The little boy was safe. For now, anyway, and whatever repercussions would come from her actions were well worth it. At the boy’s exclamation, she finally let her arm drop and looking to the rito, shook her head, “N-no thanks needed… There may be more.”
Stepping tentatively forward, grateful that it had rolled back and away from the body, rather than settling near it, Leia scooped her pan up again, “We need to get him to safety.” Looking to the boy, trying her best to conceal the panic still welling within her, she forced a tight lipped smile, “What’s your name, dear?”
The child in question still stared wide eyed at the fallen figure before him. His breath was deep and measured, as if he were trying to keep himself from panicking. And there was little panic in his face. More a tentative curiosity, like a kitten scared by a loud noise yet drawn to the strangeness of whatever made it. At Leia's inquiry, he started.
"Oh! Uh, Gus, ma'am." His eyes flashed to her before drifting back to the pile of robe and hood. "Yah think he's- yah know: dead?"
For all his inquiry, Gus still held tightly to Roscoe's hand. And to the wooden sword.
The moment the young woman gazed at Gus with such tenderness and care, Roscoe took an immediate liking to her and visibly relaxed. Here was someone he knew would not harm the boy. She had taken on a foul being who couldn’t die with nothing more than a frying pan! Now here she was, making sure that the boy was ok and her main concern was to get the boy to safety. With all that had happened and the excitement from it all dying down a bit, Roscoe was starting to be at a loss on what to do but to have someone here who seemed to be thinking clearly helped to clear his own mind.
Roscoe glanced towards the figure on the ground and had some doubts if it was truly dead or not. The boy was far too young to be witnessing such violent acts but there was not much that could be done about it. Instead of answering the boy’s question he decided to divert from it and focus on the main problem at hand.
His gaze returning to the young lady he spoke in a much more calmer manner, “My name is Roscoe Sherwood. Um...I believe this to be the young Prince Gus,” he mentioned in case it did not come across as clear to her, “You’re right, we should return him to his father….”
He trailed off as realization dawned on him. His father! His brother! They were out there right now, perhaps fighting for their lives just as he had to moments before. Were they alright? They would be in the square in the midst of all this. Panic began to seep in once more and, but for a moment, he was tempted to rush away and abandon the boy to this woman so that he may seek out his own family. But he forced his mind to still and his heart rate to calm down.
No, he couldn’t do that to Gus. Though he was sure the woman wouldn’t hurt him, what kind of impact would that have on such a young mind? To go through something so terrible such as this then have his guardian up and leave him. Though Roscoe was full of anxiety for his family, he had to trust that they could take care of themselves while he and this woman try to get Gus to his own family. Right now, he needed him more.
He released Gus’s hand at last only briefly to kneel down and take a look at his leg. There was a lot of blood but the cut itself wasn’t too deep, though it would certainly be a hindrance if he wasn’t careful. “I believe his family may still be in the Square with the archery competition.” Roscoe explained as he tore off a piece of fabric he kept in his satchel and began to bound his leg.
Gus…
“By the goddesses…” With a small bubbling sound of fighting back a sob, Leia crouched beside the rito in front of the small boy, “...Little darling, I know someone who is very worried about you. She sent me and my friend Aedris to look for you. I’m Leia, and if you two would follow me, I can take you to Impa.” Looking over to Roscoe, then back over her shoulder to the fallen figure, she frowned, “I’m not sure I want to know if he’s… It doesn’t matter. There will likely be more coming, so we’ve a need for has--”
Her eyes connected with the rito again as he fussed with his leg and eyes slightly wider, Leia gasped, “You’ve been hurt. Oh, I’m rubbish for not noticing. Well… hold on then, I think I can help, before you go and wrap it.”
Shifting her bag around, she rustled around inside it for a moment, before coming free with a small wooden box. Pushing it open, she hemmed in thought, and eventually came away with a small vial, filled with an odd yellowish liquid, “A topical mushroom compound, with a bit of herbs… Should dull any pain, and take down swelling.”
"Impa? What?!" The name evidently carried weight in the boy's mind. Gus, free of Roscoe's hand as the poor Rito tried to self-bandage before Leia got involved, backed up a step or two and shook his head. His brow was furrowed, and he frowned. "She'll keep me in my room! She'll never let me have adventures! And the Keaton..."
His voice trailed off, defeat seeping into his frame. The promise of adventure, met so quickly with what seemed to be fulfillment of that promise, only to have it yanked away again. Shoulders slumped, Gus leaned back against the stone wall behind him, never minding the rough texture's effect on his expensive white tunic. What adventures could he have, trapped behind castle walls, supervised by a bitter and cynical nurse? He could only sigh, and a tear traced a line down his cheek.
"I don't wanna go to the castle…"
Roscoe’s attention was diverted from the wound to his leg to the woman once more. She offtered a strange yellow tonic from her bag that would certainly have set Roscoe’s suspicion rising if it were not for the fact that she had saved both his and young Gus’s life. As it was he was very grateful to have someone here who was familiar with such things and could help with his leg. He didn’t want his wound to slow them down in the least though, if the situation called for it, he would insist that they go on without him and leave him behind if his wound showed any signs of slowing them down.
“Thank you.” Roscoe gratefully took the tonic from her and did the best he could to clean the blood away from his wound before he would gently-and carefully-pour the medicine onto his wound. He flinched at the sudden sting of it but almost instantaneously the burning pain soothed into a dull ache and then a throb until he couldn’t feel the pain any longer.
He cast the young woman a kind and grateful look once more as he handed back her vial and proceeded to wrap his leg. As he did so he turned his gaze upon the young prince and was amazed that he could still think of adventure after what had just happened to them. Such was the imagination of children, he supposed, who always hungered for new things. To see the boy so crestfallen, however… It pulled at his heartstrings. The boy honestly didn’t seem to wish to return to the castle to the point of tears. Was life as a prince really so bad? Roscoe thought about a life within the castle if he could never venture outside of it and began to understand the pain in which Gus must be feeling: It must be suffocating to be trapped within walls and never see what lay beyond the walls that trapped this city from the wilderness beyond.
His leg bound and secured now, Roscoe stood up and placed a feathered hand upon Gus’s shoulder. “Young Adventurer,” he soothed, kneeling down to be eye level with the boy, “the call of adventure never dies. If it is your true calling then no walls nor man or beast could contain you. Perhaps not now but, one day, you will have your grand adventure.”
He gently wrapped his feathered fingers around the boy’s hand that clutched the sword so that he may lift it up. “But right now you have a very important quest: To seek out and save Impa! Then return her to your father! There is danger and we must find your guardian and get you back to your father safely. They will need you. Now more than ever.”
He stood back up then and looked at the young woman. “I will be grateful for your assistance, miss Leia. You said you could take us to Lady Impa?”
“Roscoe here is right, young Gus.” Smiling gently, though still edged in uneasiness, Leia pushed herself back to her feet and held out a hand to the rito to help him up, “I didn’t start my adventures until just a few years ago. And if you’re anything at all like your father, and your mother for that matters, I imagine you’ll have a lifetime of wonderful journeys ahead of you. But right now, the most important journey is getting you safe and sound.” Looking again to Roscoe, she nodded, “Of course I’ll help. I was to meet Impa at the fountain in the square. I’m not sure… considering what’s happening if she’ll still be there, but that might be the best place to start.”
And it was where she’d said she’d meet Aedris…
The robe shifted.
Gus was not having any of his new guardians' encouragement. He stared at the ground, apparently trying to bore a Goron dwelling deep into it. A razor thin line had replaced his mouth, and though his cheeks were damp with the few tears that had managed to squeeze out, his face was hard and resolute. His fingers tightened on his wooden sword.
"No," he said, frighteningly calm. "If Impa gets me, I'll never have an adventure. Not until I'm an old man. I'm a 'True Warrior', right? Gonna have an adventure, then, before I get old."
Pulling his shoulder away from Roscoe's grip, Gus sprinted off in that slippery way only a young child can manage. Arms pumping, he ran- right for the mound of cloth that had once attacked them.
The robes twisted in sudden fury, filling the air with the sharp sounds of snapping and cracking. Gus, apparently oblivious, raised his wooden toy to deliver a killing blow. A gloved hand, heretofore hidden in the cloak, shot out, clasping the kid's tunic at the lapel. Slowly, the figure rose once more, and Gus, held in a vice like grip, rose with it.
The hood had not lifted and remained shifted to the figure's shoulder. Now exposed, a cold blue light gazed at the Rito and the Hylian from within bleach white eye sockets. Bits of flesh still clung to the bone, and the rancid odor that the hood had more or less contained was now unleashed. It filled the small alleyway, churning the stomach, and Gus gagged.
But he didn't scream. The child never screamed. His small fists smashed at the larger hand holding him, to no avail, and his legs lashed out, seeking contact with the thing's arm. The undead eyes never gave it consideration. Instead, its rictus grin remained focused on Roscoe and Leia.
"Follow. And. The. Child. Dies."
As if to enforce the threat, it lifted its knife toward the boy's throat. The point of it made contact, and was suddenly tinted red.
And Gus began to cry.
Without another word, the corpse, the Stalfos, turned and stalked away.
It all happened so fast.
It seemed like things were finally turning in Roscoe’s favor. He had a companion to help him out so that he didn’t have to figure out everything on his own and the child’s life wouldn’t solely be in his hands. They had a goal: To seek out Impa and Leia’s friend, which meant more allies, and Gus would be safe. He could hand Gus over to their care and seek out his own family. Gus would be safe and no longer at risk with these terrible monsters rushing about.
But the boy was not satisfied with this. Convinced that his life as an adventurer would be over if he returned, the boy slipped out of the Rito’s grasp, catching him by surprise. So far the boy had been so compliant with Roscoe and enjoying his company that Roscoe never suspected he would
pull away from his hold. The boy was running towards the pile of robe and flesh and only just caught the sight of movement within the cloak and Roscoe’s hand reached out to grab the boy.
“Wai-”
Too late. The figure-monster-whatever it was snatched the boy up like he was nothing. The figure stood with a crooked neck and, for the first time, Roscoe was able to behold what lay underneath. A cold shiver ran through his body as those cold blue eyes that stared straight at him, freezing him in place, as if daring him to move. Roscoe probably would have if it were not for the blade that was pressed against Gus’s throat. Only then did the child cry.
“NO!” Roscoe screamed but he did not dare move as the creature’s threat lingered between the three of them. Roscoe’s body was screaming for action, to rush forward to Gus’s rescue, but the creature’s cold blade stilled his feet.
The creature was turning away, carrying the crying Gus with him, and Roscoe could do nothing. He gripped his bow fiercely and grabbed another arrow, knocking it in place as he aimed right for the creature’s head, fury burning in his eyes. He had the aim. He could do it. Knock this arrow deep into its skull! But...what was the point? His arrows had already proven time and again that his weapons were useless. Even the deafening crack from the frying pan that aimed such a perfect blow to its skull was not enough to keep the creature down. What would Roscoe’s lone arrow do but anger the creature further and possibly kill the boy instead of saving him?
He watched as the creature’s form moved further and further away as did the boy’s cries, his arrow lifted the whole time, yet he felt completely and utterly useless. At last he dropped his bow to the ground and fell to his hands and knees with a frustrated cry. No! He was
right there! He
had him. And just like that...he was gone. Roscoe had failed to keep Gus safe. When it came down to it he couldn’t save the young boy from the evil creature’s clutches, and even now he couldn’t follow. A part of him wanted to test the creature’s bluff for why would it go through so much trouble to get the boy alive? If it did not care for Gus’s life, then surely it wouldn’t have kept him alive up till now? But it was far too much a risk to try and follow.
“Goddess Hylia, no!” He cried out furiously, angry with himself and devastated for the boy. He didn’t realize he was crying till he saw his tears fall onto the ground before him.
“Get up.” The fury that had burned in Leia upon first seeing the boy had blossomed within at the sight of red on his neck. Her fingers had curled into the cast iron with such ferocity, had she been a stronger woman it might have left indentations. But she’d seen it. The face. And there was no question in her mind what the monstrosity was, now. No amount of force, no savagery by arrows would bring it to its end.
“It’s a Stalfos. Ancient monsters from… centuries past.” Knowledge was good. Clarifying. It did nothing to steady her trembling hands, or still the wild tattoo of her heart against her chest, but her mind… her mind was clear, “It’s undead. It can’t be killed. Not… not without destroying the head.” Tearing her eyes away from the figure as it vanished further from their view, she glanced to Roscoe, and repeated, a little softer, “Roscoe. Get up.”We’re not finished, here. We need to go find Impa. And the boy’s father. They’ll know what to do.”
The ferocity of Leia’s tone was enough to snap Roscoe out of his despair. His gaze turned sharply upward towards her but he realized that the fury was not directed at him, but like himself, it was directed towards the creature that carried away the young prince. Stalfos… The name was not familiar to Roscoe. Though he knew many of the legends and stories of the Hero himself, he was not too knowledgeable with other things, but Leia’s words helped to clarify what the creature was. It was no wonder they could not bring such a terrible creature down and, judging by the screams and chaos happening around them, there were bound to be more. How could there be such terrible monstrosities roaming around the city?
This time her gaze moved toward his own but it was softer this time, as was her voice. Roscoe couldn’t understand how she could remain so calm and clear in a time of crisis. However, it helped to calm his own distraught mind and heart and her words fueled him. She was right. They weren’t done. Gus might have been taken away for now but he would not abandon him now. They would save him. There was no way Roscoe was going to allow Gus to remain in the Stalfos’s hold for long.
He nodded once to Leia and pulled himself together, gathering what arrows remained and grabbed his bow before standing back up. He silently promised Gus that they would rescue him, one way or another, but they had to seek help first. He just had to wait for them.
“Let’s go.”