The Legend of Zelda: Hylias Request (IC Thread)

[Solar]

Hylias Dreaming Guidance
​

A strange dream...a white-hot fire burns from Hateno village, consuming the forests and people in billowing embers. The blue eyes of an ancient demon stare upon the land, but out from the corners of every Great Civilization of Hyrule comes a bright sacred light, bringing the blessings of the undead shiekah with them to The Forgotten Temple of Hylia.

A golden figure whispers to you.

"Find me, and I will guide you."​

You finally awaken, drenched in cold sweat. Your heart struggles to pound heavily--weighing your chest down to the floor on which you slept. Outside, a brimming light peers through to your resting place. In an ancient tongue it says again, bouncing away leaving golden specks of stardust in its wake.

The golden dust re-assembles itself, becoming a parchment paper with the map layout of Hyrule. An X is marked in the most Northern corner of the ridge between Central Hyrule and Hebra Mountain. The X glows in the same way. The golden spirit runs in the direction of the Temple, dissappearing by sunrise.

"Please, follow me. The Goddess Hylia Smiles Upon You."

​

Weather Conditions: Beautiful Day

Music

OOC Thread:
OPEN SIGNUPS - The Legend of Zelda: Hylia's Request

 

[Solar]

Rotar's Dream

Leaves rustled like paper, poofing up into the clean-cut moonlight, rolling along the breeze in a swirl like the churning ocean. The ground shook with Rotar's back slamming into the mulched forest floor, gasping for air and immediately his eyes were jolted wide open.

Rotar took a deep breathe of the air, the earthy musk of the forest floor and crisp, mossy air of the nearby lake was something you could taste in the back of your throat. It was moldy, but fresh--a kind of scent only an open-aired forest could offer, accented by the burning embers of an outed campfire near the lake a few hundred feet behind him. Salty, roasted fish accented the air above all of this.

"It's day-time already!?" he thought

He blocked his face from the overwhelming gold light burning through his eyelids, tightening his just-wakened eyes. A golden falcon floats gentle down from the broken branch where the Kokiri slept for the night. His focus was peaked--his adrenaline kept his palms cold and wet. His head swirled and focused at the same time--blood pounded from his heart to his head.

"H-huh, what was that!?" he heard.

Campers nearby pried their eyes open, the birds and wild life of Harker Lake began to wake up with Rotar's loud movements before nestling back to sleep. His eyes darted upwards, trying to make out what golden light this could possibly be.

"Bird?"

The bird's shimmering form melted into a deer with almost no sense of logical transmission under the blinding light, landing on it's feet and cracking the forest branches beneath it. Rotar's face wrinkles at his brow and lips, tightening his fist. His left hand would slowly reach over to his wooden sword that fell to the ground with him. The Golden Beast remains in position, only following Rotar's actions peacefully with its eyes--standing tall in the forest. It's inherent light glowing with it's breathe--like a soft burning fire breathes through the leaves of the forest at night.

"Find me, and I will guide you."
​

The Golden Beast glares at the Kokiri boy, prancing off into the woods in a way that seems like flight. It's light hooves barely touching the ground as it glides away from the forest floor, carried by the crisp air. In its wake, a bright kickback of stardust glitters and disappears, like miniature fireflies all shimmering at the same time.

"The Goddess Hylia Smiles Upon You"​

A piece of parchment paper with the same nature as the Golden Beast falls onto the forest floor. Rotar picks it up with his muddied, roughed up hands--having holes and scrapes from trying to protect himself from a great fall. He opens it, seeing the "X" mark in the ridge between Hebra Mountain and Central Hyrule.

"What the...what just happened..who was tha--what was that." he thought
"The Goddess Hylia?"
"The Goddess.." he thought, "I've really got nothing else to do, I've finally got an adventure to go on!"
"Yeah right, I'm going to need some good night's sleep if I'm going to go anywhere by sunrise. Think of it as tax, for my services."

He begins to gather his belongings quickly, thinking of the journey he'd have to make, smiling and shivering with a sense of nervous excitement, Rotar gathers his things and starts heaving piles of leaves together around the forest to create his protective traveler's wear.

"I need some..equipment." he thinks

"Hey what--what the hell!?"
"I-it's The Travelling Forest Spirit--he's just a Kokiri. Get him!" a deep male voice resonated.

Campers shout and kick about in the early morning, the rising sun waking them up to a strange bush-covered monster raiding their goods from the camp. His spirit was gleeful for adventure--running around and kicking up leaves at the small campsite before taking an old pot lid and running off.

Arrows swished past Rotar's ears as he ran through the forest. The morning's thick humidity almost stifled him under his leafy cloak, weaving through thick burly tree trunks that clunk with every arrow that should have pierced him. The found of feet pounding the dirt floor of the forest and trinkets of gear and Rotar's shield clacked and knocked around as he runs down past the moldy, mossy Zonai Ruins and to the nearest street. With the last bit of red dye and carving materials he had on hand, he etches an ancient Kokiri symbol onto his old pot lid.

"I need this pot lid! It'll be my shield, for my adventure." he though
"Stealing for a good cause is alright, right?"

"I'll need more gear if it means I'll go on a big quest.." he smirks, a new world of justified theft opens up to his childish, grey eyes.

 

[Red Thunder]

The Shade of Ancestry
-Shahd-​

Duck. Stab. Adjust. Low kick. Spin. Slice. Parry. Elbow.

Shahd Ganomire stood still and statuesque, her breathing consciously restrained as air rushed in and out of her nose in long breaths. It was necessary; the lungs demanded air, yet a fight rarely gave time for it. Training her body to respond while denying it the air it so desperately desired was key. Sweat continued tracing lines down her tanned skin, causing unruly strands of clay red hair to cling to her cheeks and forehead. Her large sword stood vertically before her, clutched in her sword hand, while her right arm was horizontal, elbow thrown out in mock struck against an imagined foe. Careful to keep her body within its final pose, the turned her head to examine her stance.

Sloppy. Shahd's legs should have adopted a horse stance, emphasizing stablility behind her last hit, and her feet therefore should have been parallel to one another. Yet her left leg was crooked, its foot turned inward. It was always something, some error she made when practicing. Some small but vital mistake that in a real battle could cost her or her sisters their lives. Again. Shahd could hear her mother's gentle command in her mind, urging her to continue to practice until she got it right. Yet the pressure of embarrassment before her peers was the more present urging, and though none now stood about the practice ring to watch her, Shahd still felt inadequate. So she did as she ever did; she retreated. Grabbing her water skin from where it hung upon the fence post, the Gerudo left the sparring arena.

~​

The day had proved hot, as it always did, and the protection of her tent against the occasional blistering wind of the desert did little to offset the ambient temperature. The rest of the day had been spent absentmindedly sweeping the invasive sand from off her floor and going over old scrolls of technique. It was with some small relief that night came, inevitable and welcome. It was with less relief that with it came her mother. Fallah stood in the doorway, tent flaps shifting as they fell back into place. She was a true Gerudo, Fallah: athletic, tall, and sinewy. It still baffled both women, and indeed secretly every Gerudo in the camp, how such a one with Shahd's bulk had come from her. Yet Fallah never found disapproval for what the Goddess of the Sands had given her daughter, but only disapproval for the lack of application with which it went unused.

"They aren't watching," Fallah broke the uncomfortable silence. Her brow furrowed, mirroring the dip in the golden circlet she wore, creating a kind of double chevron that might have otherwise been humorous. Shahd lay on her bedroll, unmoving and eyes closed, feigning sleep. But Fallah knew better. "And you are getting better."

"It doesn't matter." Shahd finally looked up from where she lay, body following as she leaned forward to sit. She gestured to a chair nearby, inviting Fallah to enter fully into the tent. Fallah did so, seating herself in the simple, cup-like seat. Shahd sighed and continued. "I don't carry your courage, mother. You find clear vision of what needs doing; I cannot. If purpose of some manner were to come, maybe, but-"

"Purpose is what you make of it, daughter. It wouldn't matter of the Goddess herself were to rise from the sands and tell you precisely what your destiny was. Without your own initiative, it will not happen." She reached up, grasping the braided tail of hair that hung over her shoulder. "Tell me: why is it our heads are red?"

Shahd huffed, giving a look of impatience, but Fallah urged her to answer.

"'It is the divine fire of the sands, lighting our way through the cold nights of treachery that embitter the world.'" The young woman fell back again, trying to find some modicum of comfort in her bedroll within the attempted encouragement of the conversation. "It's nonsense, mother; I don't need to tell you that."

"There's more truth in nonsense than most admit. It keeps them from looking foolish." Fallah chided gently, trying to bolster Shahd's spirit without seeming too motherly. She stood, moving to the entrance before looking back to where Shahd lay staring at the tent cloth above her. "Give it more time, daughter. You will find purpose."

"Mother, I am tired of giving it 'more time'. I need to see results."

But Fallah was gone, as silent as the night desert breeze. Mouth pulled back in impatience, Shahd lay back down. Sleep would at least give her some temporary relief. In sleep, she could forget her life. So she drifted off, seeking forgetfulness.

~​

Night had become as bright as day. No, not like day, for day was clear and bathed in pure white light. No, this Night was bathed in smoke, its ashen clouds tinged with the flickering red of countless raging fires. And the streets ran with blood. And the air was filled with screams, screams of terror and screams of twisted delight. Horrors, rotting corpses and monsters from forgotten corners and pits of the land stalked the great city, burning and slaughtering and devouring.

The main gate yet held; the castle yet stood. Figures indeterminate lined the walls, casting rock and spear and arrow into the besieging throng, slicing through unholy flesh as easily as they did the air. A battering ram was called; its wooden trunk smashed against the great gate repeatedly, pulled and released by massive arms. The figures on the walls turned their attention toward it, desperately trying to push back the foes. But the battering ram was unyielding.

Finally a woman stood upon the parapet. A woman, yet clothed in armor and bearing a great sword upon her back. Eyes as red as blood gazed down on the foes. She uttered a phrase and pointed, and from her fingertip jets of blinding searing light blasted out. And as each beast was touched by the light, it dissolved, burned away by the holy magic. Across the wall the defenders cheered, their spirits raised.

A black horse of immense size stepped up from the darkness; it bore a hulking rider. His hair was shock red, his eyes yellow, and his smile wide and predatory. A sword of size rivaling that of the woman on the parapet was strapped to his waist, but he did not draw it even as he approached the gate. The woman uttered another phrase, and once again light like spears erupted from her outstretched finger. But the man raised a hand in reply, palm open toward her. It closed suddenly into a fist, and in response first the light then the woman's armor shattered like glass. She fell backwards, disappearing from view. And sitting upon the great black horse, Shahd felt herself laugh.

Yet she knew with the omniscience of a dreamer than the darkness she brought was a temporary victory. Someone was fleeing, and it was through divine ordinance. So be it; the darkness would last. Laughing again, Shahd reached out her hand again, this time towards the gate. And the gate shattered.

~

Find me, and I will guide you.​

Shahd sat bolt upright, eyes wide and heart threatening to leap from her chest. Her hand went to her face, and she covered her eyes. What had that been? The dream had been so much more vivid than any she'd yet had. The utter hatred she'd felt was yet palpable, and she struggled to shake it from her own mind.

The memory of the Voice helped. It was gentle, soothing. Quiet and unassuming, yet unforgetful and persistent. It had felt like it came out of nowhere, with no relation back to her nightmare. Yet it felt more real, more relevant, and the dream began to fade against its memory. More than that; there was a threat it spoke against. A fire, like and yet unlike the one in her first dream, and a demon with a visage of blue. It...it was spreading? Growing? Engorging itself on the land? Yet several lights, small but persistent, had crept forth from distant parts, all meeting at...a temple of some kind.

But the vision had ended, closing with that phrase and leaving Shahd still breathless. Removing her hand from her eyes, she looked about slowly, trying to find stability in her surroundings, seeking some foundation to assure her that she was not still within a dream. Yet a parchment, glowing in the darkness of night, lay upon her floor: a map of the entire land. A place was marked with a cross: a destination. She stared stupidly at it, unsure of what was happening, until her ears pricked at the familiar sound of a whinny. Her feet were under her before she knew it, but she'd moved not an inch before a shining golden head of the most beautiful horse she'd ever seen stuck its head through the tent flaps and gazed at her with an intensity she'd seen neither from animall nor being. It's purpose was clear: I will guide you. Yet as the beast extricated its head and Shahd made to follow, dawn light greeted her bleary eyes, and she recoiled. When she recovered, the golden horse had left without a trace.

~​

"Ridiculous. You fully have my support in any endeavor you might attempt, but following a dream?" Fallah shook her head, adamant. "Ridiculous."

"But I have a map!" Shahd shook it with fervor, the rolled parchment in her hand stiff. "Mother, we discussed this last night!"

Fallah' eyes narrowed.

"If this is some vain, misguided attempt at-"

The Chieftain raised a hand, cutting them both off. Shahd had come directly to the elders, requesting permission and supplies for a journey toward the heart of Hyrule. Fallah, being a dutiful mother, had come as soon as she heard that her only child sought to leave her people, alone and vastly underprepared. Yet with this dream, the elders saw an opportunity. Shahd would undertake a task in despite of her timidity, and regardless of outcome, she would prove herself a Gerudo worthy of the name. More importantly, spirits would be raised within the Gerudo forces, and that benefits of that outcome could not be overstated. So the Chieftain turned to Fallah.

"Shahd has received a vision from the Goddess of the Sands Herself, a happening that occurs with marked infrequency." Her voice was frail, but her yellowed eyes were wise. Age might sit upon her bones, but the Chieftain knew how to compromise for everyone's benefit. "She has given a Task, and we shall not debate the wisdom of it. The daughter of Fallah Ganomire shall go, and in so doing, may bring honor to her family and redeem her family name."

Fallah fell silent, and bowing, turning and left. Shahd thanked the elders profusely and followed.

~​

Shahd started her journey that evening. Traveling during the day in the desert was suicide, and water could be conserved by pitching tent beneath the harsh rays. Zalaam nipped at his bridle, eager to be gone, and his black flank shone with sweat in the setting light. Fallah cupped her daughter's face in her hands, her own face serious and lined with concern.

"Goddess be with you, but I swear to the night sky itself: you come home to me safe and sound, for you do not wish me to follow."

"I promise, mother." Shahd smiled as she touched her mother's hands. Fallah rarely displayed such emotion save that she felt it deeply, and Shahd knew she was worried. "The Goddess shall watch over me."

With a final kiss on the forehead from Fallah, Shahd turned and mounted Zalaam, feeling the comforting cold steel of her falchion against her leg from where it was strapped to the horse's side. With a final salute of hand over her heart, she turned Zalaam's reins and began her journey.

 

[Takumi]

"Hiya!" came a grunt, earning a whinnie from the Dapple under the sun kissed Gerudo who treated him like an honored brother.

Qamar grunted himself, hooves pounding into the sand, small excited snorts vibrating in his chest before coming out of his nostrils in short bursts of air. Chest expanding and falling as he ran fast and hard. The rider, a young man of slim yet muscular build gave a small tug at the reins, a small jolt in response as the steed slowed to a stop at an oasis, the Dapple Grey huffing as the it's
chest quaked slightly.

"Woah there, woah." quiet as a whisper, soothing and gentle, while being full of concern. Green blue eyes glancing up at a dark sky as the young man in disguise tilted his head up. The wind cold and biting, strands of dark ginger hair tickling the nape as he lowered his head to stare out at the expanse of hills of sand, but as green blue orbs went wide when something glowed softly in front of both man and beast at a distance like a flame suddenly coming to life, emitting a soft glow to the night sands.

Find me, and I will guide you.

With urgency, the Gerudo male kicked the horse into action.

The light fades like a dying fire, and darkness swallows the beast and his rider whole.

---------

Eyes shot open, as Isla laid on his bed roll, quiet. After a moment he sat up, red orange locks of hair a mess just inches from his shoulders. Green blue orbs once wide on his dreams were narrowed in thought.

'That dream. As many times as I've had it, it still makes little sense on why I have to set out to find them.' he thought in disdain.

"Mother needs me." he whispered.

Rising to stand, bare soles gently dragged along the sand riddened ground. Though gave pause, a soft golden glow permeated the room. Turning, Isla caught sight of a golden hawk on his window sill. A staring contest ensued between the two, one calm, the other frustrated. The hawk's almost challenging gaze landed to the bed roll before it turned, wings spreading as it took flight.

Isla scowled, feeling as if the Godess of the Sand was playing games with him. Or, perhaps dhe was telling him that he had hid among the Gerudo long enough and must leave as per tradition. His dreadful thoughts halted, as if running into a wall when he noticed a map laying upon the bed roll. Hr took it and examined where the crossed mark was, scoffing before putting it away on his person.

-------------

"Mother..." Isla muttered, as his mother sat across from an elder. The aged Gerudo gave him a sharp glance, quieting him in seconds.

Word had gotten out, and time was running short.

Freyja knew it was time, looking at him. He had grown up fast, although he did his best to pretend to be a Vai for her sake. He even, at one point when he was younger, told her that he would leave and marry before returning to her to spend the rest of his days helping her. She knew it couldn't be, and she wanted more for her one and only child than to fret over her. The Goddess herself knew he must go, but for different reasons.

"Isla." his mother called, standing and walking over to her only child, "Little one, this day would come sooner or later." she tried to reassure.

"When nightfall comes, you will leave this place, Wretched Voe." the elder's tone was calm, not a trace of malice in her voice. Holding his tongue, Isla left for his room to grab some things, securing his spear along his back for the time being. When he returned, his mother was bowing at the elder, who gave a curt nod before leaving.

At least this would give him some time to say goodbye before leaving.

---------
"My son, may the Godess keep you safe." Freyja said, doing her best to stand tall and not appear like a wilting flower, or else he might refuse to leave. Giving a smile full of sorrow, she kissed the male's cheek and hugged him. Taking Qamar's reins as he mounted, he smiled to her before putting on the veil and leaving.

"Hiya!" Isla called, urging Qamar forward with a light kick to the horses ribs. Golden grains of sand being kicked up, the setting sun and coming night the only ones with open arms.

 

[Maelily]

A Prayer Answered​

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------​

Ripley adjusted the small finger braces that ran over each of her five main flight feathers on her left side. From their she attached the arm brace that would run from her elbow then to her shoulder, then finally her shoulder to the mounted ball joint attached to the back of her flight suit. A similar brace came down her right arm but stopped at her elbow, they had left those flight feathers/fingers alone, as It was her dominant hand and they had wanted her still able to work while injured all those years ago. The braces made up for her inability to keep her wings and the flight feathers on her left side fully out for very long, locking into place so that she could move her joint with out her wings curling in on her. The nerve damage to the left arm in particular making it impossible for fine motor control of that was not only necessary for not only flight but any use of the limb.

After she checked and re-checked her braces she attached her satchel that held her tools and materials for easy repairs in the field, after this was the warm tunic she wore over her chest and hips to keep her warm in the mountain air and the high altitudes she often flew, her empty pack that would hold all she hunted and foraged today, and then finally the woolen cloak that hung down her shoulders and between her shoulders to keep her back warm despite being exposed due to the flight suit. She tossed a few more logs onto the feeder beside the stove that warmed her cavern home, ensuring that it never went out while she was gone and not attending it. She furrowed her brows at her dwindling stockpile of wood, she would need to get more during her hunting trip.

She walked to the entrance of her home, grabbing her bow and quiver and then leaving out the weighted flaps at the entrance of the cave that kept the heat in and the cold out. She quickly clipped the bow to her left wing and the quiver to her hip, jogging towards the cliff edge. She gave a snap of her wings and the pistons locked and the gears popping into place to help her joints move the parts of her wings supported my the pipes and pistons of her brace. She took a final step onto the very lip of the cliff face, wings raised high and knees bent. With a cry of laughter, she launched herself into the air.

THIS is what she lived for. Ripley thought as she dipped spinned and weaved amongst the sparse clouds, allowing herself to play and revel before she did anything else. This, flying after knows the pain of not having the option, of having the choice of this fundamental part of herself taken away, if only temporarily was an agony she would work hard to never feel again.​

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​

Once she had calmed down she got down to business of hunting and foraging, it didn't take her long to spot some moose near a crop of trees. She glided lower and circled her prey, lower and lower, until she suddenly flipped in the air, flicking her bow out of its holster and into her left-wing hand, the pistons releasing to allow her to take hold of the bow but keep her arm strait as she took aim as she fell. She shot 3 into the first moose, felling it, setting the other two off and running. She felled the second in two shots, but only got one arrow into the third before it was out of range. She let out a curse and flipped back into a glide, clipping her bow back to her wing as she quickly flew down to gather the meat from the two moose she could kill, grabbing some pieces with her tallowed feet and others with her good arm and putting the meat into her pack before taking flight again after the third beast. Fallowing the tracks, she saw It had taken to the small patch of woods, she took to the sky and saw it had not left the small patch of woods wither, as there were no exit tracks. She returned to where the moose had entered he wood, snapping her bow back into her hand and crouching low to follow the tracks as best she could though shadows the trees cast and the underbrush. As she went she picked handfuls of beerys and herbs, hoping to make coming into the small forest worth the ground treding even if she never found the beast and got her arrow back. She had done these enough times to know her stealth and tracking skills were rarely good enough to best the beasts of the Tabantha tundra.

As the tracks started to close together and traces of blood smeared the snow her hope grew and at the sight of the large brown mass of fur and antlers tangled in underbrush ahead of her made her smile and give a caw of happiness and joy as she charged forward to collect her meat and arrow.

"Find me, and I will guide you."

An ethereal voice spoke. She jumped and drew her bow and an arrow from her quiver, spinning around wildly….until a flash of something golden caught the corner of her eye. She turned toward the light, panting and panicked, to see a doe made of golden light with glowing white eyes staring at her from the other side of her kill.

The doe looked up slowly from the felled moose before it and up towards her, bow in hand and arrow aimed at it. She lowered it hesitantly, though she didn't know why.

The doe turned and bouned off, slow as though it drifted though the air, landing not far off before turning back and looking at her. She started before quickly putting her weapon away and taking off after the thing, forgetting about her kill. Slowly it hopped along, Ripley following behind. Not letting her get to close without bouncing further away, but also slowing down for her when she fell to far behind.


Finally, they broke though the line of trees back into the tundra. Once she joined it on the snow plains it stopped and turned to her, making her stop and freeze in her place. Suddenly the being of light jumped into the air, body morphing into a bird and shooting strait into they air. Wings spread wide it seemed to hover a moment before its body morphed again into streams of light and then condensing into a sheet of paper.

Ripley stood their stunned watching this progression of events mesmerized before snapping back to reality and jumping forward to catch the paper. She looked it over to make sure it had not gotten wet before properly inspecting it to see that it was in fact a map, with an X neatly painted over a part of the ridge the separated Hebra and Central Hyrule.

She gingerly folded it and packed it away before taking to the air. A mix of excitement and dread filling her stomach as she flew a quickly as she could back to her cavern home in Hebra mountain. Once their she ran inside, tossing her game pack and weapon aside in a rush to get undressed and into the back of the cavern. There, with a small unlit candle and a wreath of winter flowers and firms decorated the small hand carved statuette of Hylia carved from the wall of the cavern.

She fell to her knees before her homemade shrine, paper in hand

"Please….please tell me this is what I've been praying for." She begged, voice shaky "I…..I just need a sign. I don't care how small! Just please tell me this is you…." She said desperately, hope draining from her as the cavern remained silent and dark. She didn't know how long she sat there, before she hung her head and then went to stand.

Suddenly light filled the cavern and a great wind swept though the cavern blowing open the weighted curtain and filling the dark space with pure winter light. She turned towards the entrance in awe as the same voice that spoke before came to life again.

"The Goddess Hylia Smiles Upon You"

She nearly fell to her knees as the wind died once more and all returned to normal. She was filled with so many emotions. Hope, relief, fear, she wanted to cry, scream in joy, run, fly, punch a wall! After a mix of nervous giggles she slowly started packing. As her mind calmed from focusing on a relatively simple task she began to work faster.

Packing away food, choosing between tools and materials to pack, leave, or sell. Dismantling her more permanently placed inventions that she could not leave unattended or unmonitored if her leaving took as long. Clothes, sleeping/camping supplies, weapons, materials and tools for her braces.​

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
​

By the end of her packing her make shift hope looked ransacked and nearly destroyed. She didn't mind, if all went well she would not be forced to return.

She bent before her make shift shrine once more, head bowed she quietly said "Thank you" before rising, turning taking up her pack and going though the weighted flaps of her now former home hopefully for the last time.​

 

[Red Thunder]

Shahd Ganomire
the road to Hyrule
Gerudo Lands
​

Two nights. Two nights of hard riding. Two nights of orienting the map to the landscape as best she could, desperate to ensure her path was straight. Guidance had been given to her; it was up to her to follow it.

Shahd leaned against Zalaam's flank, trying to stretch her legs while simultaneously easing the strain riding brought her back. It was a difficult task, trying to rest in this way, and after a few minutes she gave up. Zalaam, the black devil, seemed to pay little mind. His concern was rather on the stream from which he was taking long drinks. Though the sands cooled significantly under the light of he stars, traveling at the pace he'd been made to run was tiring and hot work, and the cool water of the brook was soothing on his dry throat.

Taking a drink of water herself from the water skin on the saddle, Shahd extracted the Goddess' map from a saddlebag and unfolded it. Yes, there was the stream at which she stood. She was a little off; traveling from her outlying camp had meant following little used and oft difficult to find paths, yet a small correction would set her aright. Folding it up again, she stuffed it back in its place before kneeling beside the stream to refill her waterskin.

"Are you about ready to be underway again, Blackie?" She stood as she asked the rhetorical question, smiling in amusement at the blasé look her companion gave her. Hooking the water to the saddle, Shahd mounted her horse and steered his head east as they continued their journey.

@Takumi

 

[Takumi]

Isla felt as if je and Qamar had been riding for ages. Taking note of a stream he urged Qamar to slow sp the horse could drink and get a moment of rest. He took notice of another farther up ahead, preparing to leave the stream. Filling his water, he carefully studied the other, quickly coming to realize that it was another Gerudo.

Qamar, noticing Isla's suddenly tensed muscles caused him to lift his head and watch the other Gerudo ride out. With a whinnie, a hole was temporarily dug into the darkened flecks of sand as Qamar pawed at the ground. Isla seemed to get the idea, and climbed onto the saddle, urging Qamar forward towards the fellow Gerudo. He made sure to remain cautious, knowing how others of his race viewed him.

Though now that he was slightly closer, he could almost make out who it was.

@Red Thunder

 

[Red Thunder]

Ill-Fated:
the Demon's Descendant and the Cursed-Born
a collab between @Red Thunder and @Takumi ​

Zalaam ears twitched back as he trotted along, either angry or curious. No; he was cautious, his ears locating a possible danger before his eyes, nose, or even his rider did. He stopped abruptly, and Shahd dug her heels into the stirrups in an effort to not fly suddenly forward off the saddle with a small curse. She leaned down, trying to look past the horse's neck to see his eye.

"What was that for?"

But Zalaam was already turning, his body following his head to face the threat he'd heard behind them. There, in the distance: another horse and rider pair. Shahd looked up as he turned, now aware that her horse was picking up on something she hadn't. She gasped. Late in the night, it was hard to make out details, but one word leapt to mind in concern: enemy. The longbow was extracted and strung and an arrow notched.

"Stop!" she called out, her voice wavering in fear even as she leveled the bow toward the stranger. "Come no further!"

Isla had to squint at the rider and horse as they stopped. He could hear the woman's voice, and could of sworn he heard her voice quiver. Qamar, ears snapping forward, dug his hooves into the sand into a sudden halt.

Nearly throwing his rider off who managed to steady himself with a grunt, the Dapple steed reared onto his hind legs out of anxiety before slamming his front legs down and kicking up sand in his wake. Pawing at the ground once more with a distressed whinnie, his rider who did his best not to fall off and make a fool of himself, the Dapple Grey's ears swiveling momentarily. Isla patted the horse's neck to sooth his companion.

"I mean you no harm, fellow Gerudo." he said simply, holding back a biting and agitated tone from his irritation towards those at his former home and the traditions they still held.

Her right arm, bearing the weight of the drawn bowstring, nearly gave. 'Fellow Gerudo'? This was one of her people? The bow fell with her guard. What was shedoing-

No, not she.

He.

There was an unnatural deepness to the stranger's voice when compared to that of the Vai that made it plain, damning him before they'd even closed the distance. Him. A male. A male Gerudo. The recurring nightmare she'd had before setting out on this journey sprang to mind, unbidden, as if in warning. King. It was his birthright, by the ancient traditions of her people. Cursed. Yet he was as the Demon King was: a man among a race of women. He didn't belong. And he would surely follow Dragmire's path into darkness.

The bow raised back up threateningly, anger in fear giving her arms strength to hold it steadily.

"Leave me be, Cursed-Born! The memory of the Demon King has pursued my family enough; I don't need a physical sign of it!"

Watching carefully for her reaction, he rolled his eyes at her words. Though he paused once they sunk in.

"A Ganomire?" he scoffed, blue green eyes narrowed, though they couldn't make the other Gerudo out that well.

"Let me pass, I have no further business with you then." he spoke. He saw no need to draw his weapon or attempt to do so, but kept a close eye on her.

She sniffed disdainfully, trying to match his scorn with her own. Yet Shahd felt nothing but relief; the man wanted just to pass. How fortunate that she wouldn't have to fight him! Her bow lowered, the tension in the string lessened as she lowered her guard.

"Go where you please; I'm not staying. I've business in- elsewhere." She thought of the map and the providence it suggested. Yet no divine work of the Goddess necessitated a companion. Unstringing her bow, she replaced it on her saddle and the arrow in its quiver before grasping Zalaam's reins. "Just don't follow m-"

Zalaam reared back, neighing loudly in surprise. Shahd gripped his chest with her knees and looked down, curious as to what caused him panic. Her eyes grew huge, and she gasped. White slivers of bone, sun bleached, were scattered across the sand where Zalaam had rested his front hoof; there'd been none before he turned to face the stranger. But like a snake striking, a hand shot up from the ground, skeletal and eager. The scattered bones reformed, coming together to make the first hand's brother, and with an explosion of sand, they lifted a creature from underground. Lizard shape, its bones bound together by some evil magic, the creature pulled itself free to standing. Shahd yanked on Zalaam's reins, directing him backwards; the stalizaflos stood an easy seven feet in height, and its eye sockets glowed with a noxious red light.

It was not alone. In several places about them, additional stalizaflos became extracting themselves from the golden sands, and each eyed the nearest Gerudo with insatiable hunger. The one that had made to grab Zalaam's hoof now stepped toward Shahd, and it reached out a grasping claw.

"I have no care for the business of a coward." he responded, thinking he'd made a rather good comeback, clicking his tongue to urge Qamar forward, only for the dapple to stop suddenly, backing away hurriedly in a panic at what soon transpired. Sand obsuring their view momentarily from whatever had arisen from the golden depths of the desert, Isla cursed aloud once it was clear what stood between him and Shahd.

Drawing his spear, he knew he'd have to act quickly, and groaned under his breath momentarily at his luck that this would happen after running into a Ganomire.

Gripping onto Qamar's reigns and kicking the Dapple steed into action, hooves thundered across the sands and out of the graps of skeletal hands within an inches reach. Driving his spear into a sweeping motion as Qamar slowed some, Isla intended to use enough force in his swing that the spearhead would connect with the Stalizaflos' spine, his aim being to cause the skeletal body to collapse and leave the head for Shahd to get the finishing blow-if she could react fast enough and get herself in gear.

Stalfos, of any form, could be terrifying enemies, particularly when sheer numbers weighed in their favor. Yet individually, most had little integrity of frame, being as frail as the desert wind.

But they were as consistent as the desert wind, as well. Even as Isla's spearhead pierced the dead lizard's back, and even as the skeleton shattered across the sands, no longer held by the weak bonds of evil wards, the bones were already shaking, being pulled together slowly but surely by the same invisible tendrils that held them together in the first place.

Even as Isla had charged forward, Shahd had gone for her falchion, trying desperately to draw it. Her breathing quickened in fear, and her eyes widened in panic. She'd faced enemies before, but it was a distinctly unique circumstance. Yet the blade wouldn't come, all the while though she struggled to draw it, and she cried out in desperation.

But Zalaam at least was on top of things. He ran forward himself, crushing the stalizaflos' skull with a heavy stomp of his hoof. The skull shattered, the light in its eyes extinguished, and the skeleton ceased its movement. Shahd pulled her sword free at last, only to see the issue handled.

Or rather, the immediate issue. The two horse-rider pairs were still uncomfortably near a slowly growing crowd of more such fiends. Pulling on her steed's reins, Shahd turned to face the way she had, back toward the plains.

"Call me coward," she spat in Isla's direction, "but only a fool engages the honorless when nothing is at stake but pride. Come; two are safer than one alone."

She prodded Zalaam with her heels, urging him forward and away from the night fiends, glancing back on occasion to see whether Isla followed.

A frustrated puff of air escaped Isla's lungs as he watched the Vai struggle to even draw her blade. At least her own steed was quick enough to act, and a look of pity could be seen reflected in green blue orbs.

Yet when Shahd spoke to him, that pity quickly turned into pure irritation, and as much as he wanted to retort, from the scowl that formed behind the veil he continued to wear, he held his tongue and urged Qamar to follow.

Deciding to let her words go, and promptly ignore her for now, Isla focused instead on the wind as it caressed his cheeks in passing and how it soothed his boiling blood into a mere simmer. Eventually, her words were forgotten and the simmering anger faded into slight and almost unnoticeable annoyance.

@Solar