Of Phantom Pains [continued]

[Sav'saaba]

Despite her sneaky conduct, Axel had noticed Lucke expressing herself through sign language to Revvie, since he had caught on to her facetious nickname for him. The eye contact between the two Sheikah lasted just a little too long after Axel's breezy comment had revealed as much, and when Lucke finally averted her eyes down at the remains of Skulltula Bite, she felt her cheeks heat up as she tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

There had been the ghost of something to Axel's expression when he laid eyes on what she presented him with, and there was a slight but still noticeable irregularity to his next drawn breath.

What was that about? Had her selfish desires clouded her judgment in showing the pieces of the blade so candidly to someone of her kin?

There was no going back now, though. She would have to surrender and put her trust in him for the time being, if only for the fact that they both needed the other, in a transactional sense.

When Axel took a minorly damaged part of the sword's hilt to hand, the blacksmith ran his thumb over the protrusions of her father's signature, and a pensive frown crumpled the skin on his forehead. The mark's design was whimsical, much like the name of the blade itself, dubbed for the legend about a curse put upon a family by a monstrous spider, the tale which Lucke had loved most as a bedtime story in childhood.

The protruding embellishment that telegraphed the blade's crafter depicted a stylization of a moose, of all things. Its long, tapering legs of molded clay lines curled onto themselves in a half-whorl underneath a comically smaller body, with swirling antlers set upon a head with a bulbous muzzle.
A ceramic pattern likening a constellation defined the face, with lambent orange holes for its eye and nostrils – that is, until the weapon's light had permanently dimmed.

Even if his most carefully, most lovingly wrought project had been reduced to mere fragments and shards in seconds, it did not mean that her father was unworthy of his title of master. Ancient Sheikah technology had no equal, but without proper upkeep it quickly grew frail and prone to breakage; Lucke had known it would.

But with that promised day drawing nearer with every sunset, she had eventually stopped offering the sword for its routine maintenance to her father. To have him slave away in the forge for hours, on a blade that soon was never to be wielded again, was a labour she could not bear to ask of him anymore. It was a bitter resignation he had eventually acquiesced to.

Lucke's heart swelled with hope when Axel did not shoot her down outright and even promised to make a better assessment in the morning light.

A helping hand? She had two, all his!
Hands she was straining to keep to herself.
Premature as her rejoicing perhaps was, she could have crushed Axel's ribs with the hug she had desired to give him then and there, not in the least for his kind offer to pay for boarding and other creature comforts. Reverie deserved a long night of undisturbed sleep in a proper bed more than anyone.

Lucke signed her thanks, her eyes twinkling in the glow of her earring and a broad smile on her face.



The chipper carpenter had managed to charm the old Zora into reducing the fees for their stay by half, and Lucke had an inkling that wasn't just because of some shared connection to Hudson Construction.

The inn was a rather no-frills establishment, Lucke gathered from first impressions, and with it her daydream was dashed. She longed to have a hot bath so badly after roughing it out there for as long as the girls had, but those were the lamentations of a spoiled Plighted.

Back home, there had always been access to scalding water directly from underground hot springs thanks to an intricate system of pipes running underneath and through the homes to warm them, and she was only now growing aware that this was an unknown concept in the rest of Hyrule.
An actual bed was already much more than what she could ask for, especially since they were paid-for lodgings. Maybe she would be able to make it up to Axel somehow, at a later point.

The innkeep had guided the four upstairs, to an outside area with a picnic table overlooking the town square before he took their individual orders for their dinner.

Soon Kapson returned, dexterously balancing all the plates. One spry old sturgeon!

Alas, with that, the dreaded time had come, Lucke considered with a barely visible pout. Tactically picked skewers with mushrooms and meat had been her choice, and after she received her plate and taken the skewers off it, she wrote something on her slate to excuse herself. She did not feel much enthusiasm for ruining her company's appetites with her table manners - or rather the lack thereof.

She had lost her tongue, not her pride.

"Enjoy your dinner. I'll be back in a little bit. I want to have a look around town some more, before it gets too dark."

It was one piss poor excuse, one as transparent as the ice inside the cave up on the northside of Biron Snowshelf, but it was the best Lucke could come up with. She would find somewhere she could sit down to eat in solitude and then return.

[AmJanky]

Axel

"Don't worry about it, Hyrule pays its smiths well enough." He assured Reverie and Alyson, while the latter showed them the way to the inn "When they're able to work, that is." He couldn't help but add a little tongue in cheek, and rubbed his left shoulder with a pained expression.

One would think it would be a weight off his shoulder, not having to bear it. But the truth was he missed it sorely. Doing everything with one arm was generally annoying, especially when he knew the alternative. He could choose not to wear the arm when it hurt, but there was no choice now that it was broken.

And the complications didn't just extend itself to big tasks like fixing swords and working the forge, it also meant the easy things that a lot of people took for granted were just harder. Like cutting meats, or spreading butter on toast. Life suddenly had a way to make the most menial of tasks of such an increased complication they required a certain level of problem solving.

"It is solving the frustrating parts that is the most rewarding." Luckily for Axel, he'd been raised to problem solve. He caught Alyson's eye when she proudly spoke of the love for her craft. She once again proved herself a boon to the entire venture when she cut the costs for their stay in Tarrey town by half. "And thank you, that's very generous."



As chipper as Lucke had been minutes before, as quiet as she had gone after dinner was served - not in sound, of course, but in demeanor. Lucke made an excuse to not be at the table. And as Axel watched her walk away he was acutely aware of his own tongue and all the things it was used for. Not in the least aiding in producing almost every syllable and vowel in order to speak, but - he swallowed. Unlike him with his prosthetic arm, she had no choice in the matter at all. A fate worse than death, truly.

Could one do that kind of thing to themselves? His nose scrunched briefly at the thought, maybe... But that was certainly a pit of despair he didn't want to delve into. Chances were bigger someone else did that to her. And usually it was done to keep someone from speaking evil, blasphemy or treason.

A grueling punishment performed last among his own kin long, long ago, back when... Maybe it was worth thinking the king of old had good reason to think the Sheikah dangerous. The well in Kakariko was still streaked in blood, after all. Until the ban on their technology their entire history had been an equally pretty crimson.

A crimson the Yiga still proudly wore. If that was the kind of conduct of the Sheikah they held onto, then could she be...?

He didn't want to think that way, but he didn't know her. He didn't know how she'd have a - be it broken - but more pristine quality sword than he had ever come across. A maker's mark he couldn't pin to any of the known Sheikahn forges. As exciting as the discovery was, he'd have to wait to find out where and what.

For now, there was dinner and if Lucke wished to dine alone, then so be it.

"You know, what with all the parts here, we could make a cart to take us the rest of the way. It will give Reverie - and Lucke - a chance to see what it is they do here and us an opportunity to flex some crafting muscles." He spoke to the remaining company. 
With how close Reverie and her had already proven to be, he did half expect her to get up and go after Lucke either way. "But we can always discuss that tomorrow, if you want to join your friend in exploring the town."

[Emily]

Reverie hadn't expected Lucke to leave once the food arrived. She watched her friend depart with a slight frown; it didn't take much thought for her to understand the why of the situation, but she found herself wishing that Lucke had let her know ahead of time, so they might leave together. The truth was, she had wanted to look around herself; she had been especially interested in whatever was going on on the other side of the lake. While she herself wasn't an engineer, it was like nothing she had seen before. But she wouldn't follow- if she aimed to protect Lucke's pride, then staying would reinforce the excuse. Instead, she looked at her dish of baked fish and got lost in once again running through how they'd gotten here.

"Yep! Woodworking is something I've been passionate about from a young age. It has its frustrating moments, but it's more than worth it to see something come together, and to see others enjoy it."

"I see. I'm glad for you; it's admirable to see so many who found purpose at a young age." Reverie nodded; she hadn't known Alyson long, but this statement aligned pretty well with her understanding of how the builder worked. There were those in the camp who created things. They were usually the children of people who had themselves created things, and had the tools available to teach their children how to do such things. Reverie was the daughter of two soldiers, themselves the children of soldiers. By working on her form, by increasing her strength, by developing patience and good sense, she had also found an appreciation for the art- such as it was- of protecting others. She didn't know if she would call herself passionate, exactly, and certainly not from childhood, but the feeling of protecting others was something that brought her peace.

And it appeared the Bolson loyalist had more tricks up her sleeve than just architectural expertise. Alyson deftly handled the innkeeper, convincing him to lower the price for them. Reverie let out a breath. It wasn't just Castle Town, then; all of Hyrule cared this much about prices and rupees and economies of scale. She paid close attention to the language used, the leverage afforded by long-term relationships. If she and Lucke were to be forever exiled to the world outside Hebra, she would learn how to navigate it properly.

All that said, there would be no use for rupees in the morning. They'd been given the briefest of explanations on the way here, but it was enough to help with plans. Their target was a tech lab sat atop a hill. It had lines of sight in nearly every direction, most notably the path approaching from the nearby stable. Around the lab to the north and south were forests, and to the east was a cliff. The likely best approach was from one of the forested sides, but they'd have to be careful. Inside were Yiga, and they were likely to have set traps or warnings outside.

Yiga.

Her vision tunnelled for a moment, and her heart felt like it skipped a beat. She had to force down the excitement, finally being able to face them. She had probably shown too much interest before, when she practically agreed to take on the contract purely for the opportunity to fight Yiga. When someone in their community had a personal vendetta against a particular beast or enemy, they were deemed unfit in the hunt to capture or eliminate that being. A personal interest- beyond the baseline interest anyone in the community would naturally have- could lead to anger, and anger would limit a warrior's field of vision. They could stop fighting as a group, and take unnecessary risks. She knew she wouldn't do that tomorrow, but she would have been deemed unfit if it weren't Axel and Alyson and instead were Gerard and Li.

"You know, what with all the parts here, we could make a cart to take us the rest of the way. It will give Reverie - and Lucke - a chance to see what it is they do here and us an opportunity to flex some crafting muscles."

Reverie was pulled back into reality. She blinked, realising she had already had a few bites of her food, and looked up at Axel. "I would be interested in seeing that."

 "But we can always discuss that tomorrow, if you want to join your friend in exploring the town."

She wondered if they could hear her heartbeat. It was much faster than normal, and she was having trouble centring herself. Was it possible this suggestion was to give her an opportunity to leave and calm down? Surely it wouldn't lead to Alyson and Axel rethinking their partnership in this. But no, that wouldn't make any sense; they were already almost to the destination, switching out their fighters at this point would be madness. She was beginning to overthink things, and that meant she needed only one thing.

"Yes, if you don't mind, I think I could use a walk." She stood up and politely excused herself before exiting the inn. The evening air was brisk- she once again appreciated how much cooler it was here than in Castle Town. There was still a moisture to the air that she hadn't experienced in Hebra, but the temperature was welcome.

Reverie lurked about, a slow smile creeping onto her face, until she noticed a distant Lucke. She knelt in the shadow of the building- it was probably all for nothing, Lucke was the stealthy one and Reverie was the heavy hitter- and waited for an opening. At a moment when Lucke would sit her dish to one side, Reverie would draw her sword and, within the span of a breath catching, close the distance.

[LuckyBlackCat]

When the steaming plates of food were served, Alyson noted Lucke's change in mood, the slight pinch at the corners of her mouth. Right away, Lucke scribbled a message to excuse herself, then left to supposedly explore the town - although the real reason was obvious. Now Alyson thought about it, eating with no tongue had to be a major hassle, as did trying to maintain signed or written conversation while doing so. As sure as she was that nobody at the table would make Lucke feel weird for it, she respected her desire for privacy. "Ok, later!" she called as Lucke headed down the stairs and out of sight.

Axel, after a few seconds of pensive silence, spoke up, suggesting they build a cart to make their journey easier. A grin lit up Alyson's face. "Yep, a crafting muscle workout sounds good! A cart will be no trouble! My mum's worked at a few stables before, mostly building and fixing wagons, and she taught me how to put them together - they were some of my earliest major woodworking projects." During the family's time at Duelling Peaks Stable, before moving to Hateno Village, carts had been a significant source of income. "And you know a fair amount about the Zonai device side of things." Even if Axel had yet to fill out his sleeve, his mechanical expertise would be helpful.

Across the table, Reverie appeared to have zoned out, a glazed look in her eyes until she blinked and snapped back into the present moment.

"I would be interested in seeing that."

Alyson's eyebrows furrowed a little. "Everything alright there?" Was Reverie preoccupied with tomorrow's task, and the danger it would bring? If so, from what Alyson had heard of the Yiga clan, she couldn't deny there was good reason. She prodded at her mushroom risotto with a spoon and took a small mouthful, even as her stomach seemed to constrict on itself the more she thought of the mission ahead. "Oh! If you'd like to learn about crafting, we can teach you some of the basics!" Forcing cheer into her voice took an ever-increasing amount of effort.

Yet through her fears, a part of her relished the thought of seeing the Ancient Tech Lab. It had to be as fascinating as the one in Hateno Village, if not more so because of the Sheikah devices unique to it. Devices they'd make sure Axel and Robbie would get to reclaim from the Yiga.

As Alyson had expected on some level, Reverie needed a walk just as much as Lucke did, taking her leave. "All good!" Alyson reassured her. "See you, and if you and Lucke get up to any more Lynel taming, let us know how it went!"

[Sav'saaba]

Meals were hardly a highlight of the day when missing the organ crucial to the mechanics of mastication and with a severely lacking sense of taste and texture, but Lucke made do. One needed nourishment in order to live, after all. Even if she had experienced firsthand that the body was an amazingly hardy thing that could endure when pushed to extremes, she was glad that the crests of her pelvis and the undulations of her ribs did not jut dismally out under her skin anymore, like they had when the fevers had finally subsided and until the seared insides of her mouth had healed up enough to tolerate contact again.

Another perk of her chosen dish, other than its suitability to being consumed on-the-go, were the skewers themselves, which she utilized to help the process along with a practiced finesse. Still, she thought it made for an unseemly sight, and while she felt guilty towards Reverie for leaving her alone with people neither of them truly knew, there was also relief that there were no spectator's eyes to behold the conduct.

Or no eyes other than the beady ones belonging to a Hylian retriever sitting before her crouched form, its tail sweeping the flagstones in a lazy arc as it waited for the next morsel of meat she would tear off as an offering to the animal.

One for Lucke, one for pup.

One for Lucke, one for pup.

Her mother had chided her every time when Lucke had played this game with Moko, sighing that it would only teach him to beg at the table. Mom had been right, but that hadn't meant the demise of the ritual.
Would Moko still sleep beside her bed at night, now that she wasn't there anymore?

She cooed quietly at the canine as she fed it, uttering approximations of sweet nothings, because what did a dog care about sounds being unintelligible?
The interaction with the bundle of four-legged fluff eased her into a state of calm, the anxiety she harbored over what the next day would bring being pushed to the periphery, if only for a short while.
She liked animals. She always had, but these days interacting with them came much more natural to her than exchanges that required properly articulated sentiments.

Before the smell of food had lured it to her, the retriever had been resting at the base of the set of stairs connected to what looked to be the biggest home on the plateau, and Lucke guessed it must have been the pet of whoever lived there, as it looked well cared for. The suspicion was confirmed when eventually the door to the home opened and the retriever was called inside for the night. Lucke watched the dog trot off, loyal as dogs were wont to be to their master, and placed the half-finished skewer aside, her lackluster appetite already sated.

It was the familiar whistle on the wind that moved Lucke to leap upright and lunge backwards, the displacement of air palpable by the skin covering her arms as she did. Dodging the next downward swing with a side jump, she grasped the hilt of the sheathed traveler's sword at her hip, and drew it in a half-arc, just in time to meet Reverie's blade flat and then retreated a few steps, her stance widening, prepared with an answer to the next blow served. A grin split her face when she met Reverie's eyes.

When the blades collided once more with a ringing clang, it didn't go over well for Lucke. The hammer grip necessary in holding this substitute blade was stifling compared to the loose, flexible hold she would use with Skulltula Bite, and the strength behind Reverie's strike nearly knocked the weapon from Lucke's grasp as she faltered. Smoothing over the trouble she was experiencing and launching into a feigned attack, she hoped Reverie would think nothing of it. Quickly she refound her poise, and twisted away with the following blow, rotating her sword to deflect the weapon of her opponent.

The strategy would be that Lucke would keep on the defense for now, relying more on acrobatics to keep herself out of a tight spot than she would on counterattacks, in hopes of keeping up appearances. She could not let anyone, especially not Reverie, catch on to her shaky mastery over this sword. It wasn't pride, but prudence; she could not have her partner be distracted, not with Reverie's safety, and everyone else's, being on the line.

The cadence of parried strikes resounding over the empty town square eventually lulled her into a trance, her entire being becoming synchronized to move with what her sparring partner presented her with, spinning with Reverie, even pulling off a signature backflip whenever the opportunity arose.
And so Lucke capered across the square, ever closer to the body of water and the goddess statue at its center. 

[Emily]

Her breath was shallow, quick. Desperate to escape her lungs, the air became a mist that dampened the cloth wrapped around her nose and mouth to protect against the cold. Tendrils escaped through haphazard folds, leaving a trail behind her as momentary proof of her passing, as temporary as each disrupted drift and crunched footstep filled in by the snow. A blizzard had moved in earlier in the evening, making travel not only difficult, but ill-advised. The situation was urgent. Her eyelashes were stiff, each strand coated in a fine layer of ice that threatened to spread to her eyes as she ran through the night.

Reverie navigated on instinct, the snowstorm and darkness numbing her senses as much as it numbed the bits of her face that were exposed. She gripped the hilt of her sword, trying to keep it from clattering in case others were out tonight. She had thrown on layers both beneath and atop her grandmother's armour, the layers beneath catching precious body heat while the layers atop kept the armour to a muted clank. She couldn't remember how long she had been running, but she could feel the sweat accumulating on her back and arms. It could become dangerous if exposed in a fight. She hoped they would be satisfied with an unguarded sacrifice, but felt that hope might not be realistic.

Suddenly, she saw the labyrinth walls in the distance. And in front of them, holding a torch, a white mask and heavy red cloak.

Their blades met with a muted, metallic click. Reverie broke the surface, escaping the depths that threatened to drown her. Her eyes focused, once again fully present, as she looked at Lucke's face. Surprise, but clearly this was not entirely unexpected. Though their movements were precise, choreographed at this point, she found comfort in the routine. A fight required full presence, full focus, and pulled her out of wherever she happened to be. And afterward, she could pull herself out of the darkness by thinking about how to better react to certain movements, different choices Lucke might make, and prepare for the next time.

Lucke backflipped over a fence into the square, keeping her eyes on her attacker as Reverie vaulted over. She wasn't as acrobatic as her sparring partner, but she was athletic enough to keep up. There were plenty of differences to keep in mind this time, things that occupied her, kept her focused. Lucke used a different sword, but her movements showed a quick and seemingly-effortless mastery of the space and the tool. She was liquid, flowing around each of Reverie's attacks. Though it felt like a foregone hope, Reverie found herself wishing that Lucke wouldn't be aware of how off she was. Reverie's attacks were more reckless than normal, subconsciously attempting to lock into the present by leaving openings and doing her best to counter when Lucke acted on those openings.

Her mind was clear, the thoughts washed away. She was born again, as she was constantly reborn in battle. Gradually, Reverie's eyes lit up. She grinned, then smiled, then beamed, and finally laughed. A bright, excited laugh, a touch manic but excusable from the stress she'd been under. She began throwing in moves she hadn't done since they were kids, dodges instead of parries and an occasional spin. Her breath was shallow, quick. Desperate to escape her lungs, the air became a mist that flowed freely into the crisp Akkala air. Like dreams, or forgotten worries, tendrils of mist wildly shifted shape.

Finally, as they reached the centre of the square, Lucke swung wide to block an incoming blow, and Reverie saw her chance. She knocked the sword out of Lucke's hand, dropping her own in the process, and tackled the Sheikah into the fountain. Her laughter echoed through Tarrey Town.