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. Alyson came off as a very amiable personality.

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.

[LuckyBlackCat]

Alyson raised her head, leaning forward, at the clash of steel against steel ringing through the otherwise quiet town. She gave a hearty guffaw. She'd known it would only be a matter of time until Reverie and Lucke got up to their gloriously chaotic antics. "That's it! Fight! Fight! Fight!" she chanted. Not loud enough for them to clearly hear her while spinning, dodging and parrying each other's strikes in the square, she wasn't going to wake up anyone sleeping in the inn - her cheers were more for the sake of putting a smile on Axel's face. "With such formidable warriors as these on our side, we've got nothing to fear!"

Not that the encounter ahead of them would be anything like the elegant and practiced dance that unfolded outside. Her fingers clenched around her spoon as she lapsed into uncharacteristic silence. The glimpses of life-or-death combat she'd seen back then had been fleeting, her parents doing their best to keep her eyes averted while they'd rushed her to safety, but the cries of guards and enemies alike had seared themselves into her mind, as had the bloodstains on charred grass, the wet rending sound of flesh in the distance. She forced herself to eat, the risotto heavy in her tight throat, her appetite diminished even though she knew she'd have to keep her strength up. A real fight wasn't pretty in the slightest.

Still, the display of that combat skill and experience renewed her resolve that between the four of them, they could pull this off.

At the almighty splash of the two mercenaries tumbling into the fountain, she rose and hurried to the wooden railing, gripping it, craning her neck to make sure they were unharmed. When the breathless laughter rising through the night air confirmed such, her face brightened up once more. "Water way to go! Looks like they're really getting into the flow there!" She glanced over her shoulder for Axel's response to her deliberately terrible jokes, a tried and true way to ease tension as their earlier banter had proven. He'd roll his eyes for sure, but knowing him, he'd throw in a few quips of his own. "Will they sink or swim as they make waves?"

If keeping the atmosphere as light and fun as possible meant letting loose a torrent of bad puns, so be it. There was no point in being a drip.

[Emily]

By a combination of the evening's failing light and the various spotlamps fixed around the premises, three Yiga warriors carried between them a large wooden crate. Overseeing them was an even larger Blademaster carrying a small communication device, various numbers and figures running along it. They stood just outside the Akkala Ancient Tech Lab, which was no longer as secure as it once was, but things also weren't as dangerous as they had been, so who could really bother. When the large Blademaster spoke, his voice was gruff and deep, rumbling like a stalnox stomping about. "Steady now, only a little further and then we can eat."

"What- do you say- a Yiga responded in gasps of exertion, "we eat first- and then put it inside? My - arms could use- some extra strength.

Deputy-Commander Blademaster Jirri, who had served as Kohga's replacement after the eternal leader's disappearance, laughed. Not at the response, of course. He rarely listened to what was said by people he didn't care about. Instead, he had remembered the wave of jealousy when Yuru had sent that picture to the other Blademasters during his convalescence. It was always a fun time getting them to respond like that. He shook his head ruefully, and pulled up the conversation thread. Updates had come through from the various regions- as they did every night- and he began typing out the update for Akkala personally.

Jirri at Akkala lab. All quiet. Banana pizza tonight.

A wave of responses rolled in, all jealous of how well-treated the Yiga were when Master Jirri was in town. Instead of having banana pizza or stew, they were eating raw bananas straight off the tree, picked either outside or in their various hideouts. As far as Jirri was concerned, a little suffering here and there built character, it was a central tenet of being a Yiga. Sure, some suffered more than others- certainly the crews in the Depths were having a rough time as of late, but that was also the truth of living in the Depths. As Kohga had once said, We'll probably eat shit down there, Jirri, but if it'll get us away from that stupid kid and his sword, I'll take it. He was certainly right about that. Not avoiding the kid, but eating shit in the Depths. In his defence, they had found a lot of ancient tech down there, created a whole tech and vehicle ecosystem, which was helping their surface operations as well.

With his free hand, Jirri waved his Great Windblade. The conjured wind pulled the door open for the other Yiga. They filed inside, wobbling under the weight of the crate. Could they have just placed the crate on a vehicle? Sure, of course they could have. But then who would be suffering? He followed behind and closed the door. "Alright boys, drop it."

They had barely dropped it before all three Yiga collapsed. They sat on the ground, complaining or crying at the pain. Fortunately, Jirri didn't need them for the rest of the night. He stepped around the one closest before raising his sword and bringing it down atop the crate. The top bounced up and away, barely missing the archer on the far side, and the four sides fell neatly. The prize was a heavily-mechanised replacement part for the forge. Something about that thing had faltered in the past few years, and Jirri's techs had determined they could upgrade it well beyond what it could already do under that fool Robbie's guidance. Jirri sheathed his blade and ran his hand along the greying stubble along his cheek. He didn't care about the tech divide as much as Kohga had, but it was the schism between the Sheikah and Yiga, so it must have meant something. And it also provided him with goodies like the tablet, which let him keep in touch with people.

To each side of the replacement part were smaller crates filled with various Zonai and Yiga-tech materials. Those would come in handy for the installation tomorrow, even if he wasn't going to be here to oversee it. He was instead leaving one of his best to make sure everything went off well. The tablet darkened and was hung from a loop on his belt. There was apparently a pouch it could go into, but he had no time for extra shit like that. There was a small cook station along one of the walls furthest from the door, and atop it were three pizzas. Two were perfect, tender banana pizzas with a little bit of pineapple on them for good measure, while the last was topped with various other things. He couldn't see anything redeemable in that pile, but it wasn't for him.

Jirri grabbed a slice of the banana pizza and took a bite before approaching the stairs that circled the interior. "Come on down, son," he shouted. "Have dinner with thr old man for once. I'm leaving in the morning."

He took one more look at the non-banana pizza before shrugging and sitting in a chair at the table. The other three Yiga were practically sprinting across the floor to get their own slices. He sighed to himself- the things you did for family.

[AmJanky]

Axel had woken up early, with a brain full of ponderings, which wasn't something entirely unusual, but it had happened a lot in the past few weeks. There had been a lot of movement in and around his life that he needed to give a place.
It had been Ashley that at some point had suggested to take not just a walk, but a ~°★walk★°~ at points like that, so he left the rest of his current companions to sleep in and had decided to take that early morning *walk* (Axel couldn't do the kinds of emphasis Ashley could produce, at least the spirit was there).

As he was taking the monorail back down to Hudson's quarry and the racetrack, he got treated to a perfect view of the waterfalls in the distance and some fish swimming in the pristine waters surrounding the tall peninsula of Tarrey Town. The sun that had barely started to peek over the distant horizon once again got blocked from view as he descended into the still shadowy valley.
He absentmindedly ambled towards the waterfalls, having taken off his shoes and rolled up the legs on his pants to let the cold water lap up to his ankles with every step he took. There was a fair bit preoccupying his thoughts and all of it was vying for equal attention. The cold sensation around his feet drew him further out of his head with every meditative step, while he sorted through the tangled mess.

As much as seeing the citadel and surrounding area from the sky the day before had triggered some very vivid memories, especially when they'd landed on the racetracks, he could quickly lay those beside him today. He was certain that particular night didn't need a once over, he was even sure he didn't really want to go back to the way things had been for him before.

As for the entirety of Hyrule there wasn't even a going back to the way things were before - the people who had lived through the Calamity were starting to become few and far between, those that still lived were either full of reservations about going back to those ways or actively making place for better and more hopeful. From where Axel was standing, his better and more hopeful would just be a short trek North to Robbie's old haunt.

Unlike the Hateno Laboratory, which lay only relatively removed from the hubbub of what little societies had remained in Hyrule, the Akkala Laboratory had been built as far removed from any signs of life as possible. What the thought behind that had been was kind of lost to time, but the clearest indicators were the giant telescopes that resided on the roof of the structures.
The Akkala telescope had since been relocated to look out toward Hyrule Castle, maintaining a safe distance while taking stock of what could possibly be transpiring within and to judge whether or not the entire structure would collapse. So far it had not, the castle still loomed over Hyrule as a testament to what the Demon King had almost succeeded in.

Axel's father had been part of the removal and relocation of the giant bit of kit, it had played a part in his turning on his earlier sentiment of sticking to what they'd known. Especially since it was during a time where any forged sword was still under influence of the Upheaval's... upheaval. Axel incidentally knew of at least one sword that still bore the marks of that period, and the awful wielder that had still not allowed him to touch it, but that was neither here nor there.

Besides the regular smithing, Axel's grandfather had taught both son and grandson how to work with the ancient technology, how to maintain its strength and how to build up from what they had. And he had taught them well, they were good artisans and well aware of all the structures Robbie, Purah and their team had reverse engineered back into the Sheikah's Encyclopedia Technologica. Lucke hadn't seemed aware that by simply offering a broken sword she had turned his entire understanding upside down.

From what he'd seen from the previous night's (play)fight between the two swordwomen - before they ended up in the fountain - they were well-adept to fight.
Axel had only been taught the basics of offence and defence by Steen and Olkin. And while he wouldn't at all consider himself a knowledgeable source - there being a large gap in his ability to practice - he thought he saw some hesitation in the way Lucke had handled herself. Like she wasn't used to the steel sword's balance.
On the other hand there had been a fearlessness in Reverie's handling that he'd never witnessed outside of that one night - it then had been brought on by an actual genuine fear of losing - to harness such a quality had to have taken hard work and lots of training. She did tell them she was practically born with the sword in hand, one in a long line of warriors.

It was funny to him how that seemed to be a theme among at least three of them.
Alyson - though a different kind to him - an engineer, a third generation carpenter and a passionately excited one at that. The aircraft she made was a definite feat, Hudon's was lucky to have a crafter like her in their midst.
But unlike what she had assumed the night before, Axel didn't know a lot about the Zonai's technology. Sure, he had worked alongside the automated superfriends during Hyrule castletown's reconstruction, but the crux lay in the prefix auto; they were somewhat self-aware - or very good at making one think they were. They could be asked to do things and they would set out to do the asked things while taking the question almost painfully literal. It irked Axel greatly. Either way there was a big difference in working with and working alongside.

He stopped walking to scrunch his nose. He bristled at the thought of becoming obsolete at the hand of machines, so thrown out of his pondering he was, he only then noticed he'd come to the end of the water's edge.
Before him rose the cliff upon which the citadel would be situated, he could only see the very tip of what was left of the battlements. Following the remnants of the even older structures that had rained down and lodged themselves where they'd fallen during the upheaval his eyes came to rest on a little pier. Put to use by Hudson and co. as yet another site to place building materials for those who would have need of them.

What better end to his pondering than to come up on yet another conjoinment of all the eras Hyrule had been through. If he hadn't already started to see the poignancy of the Sheikah's continuously keeping and teaching of history, he'd sure have started to get it now. And even though they thought to tell the most relevant stories, the ruins from the sky evidenced they did also forget a lot.
Still what better end to a trek along the lakeside than to sneak in a little swim. He shrugged his coat and shirt and hung them on what seemed to be a mast and sail.

There was in fact a bit more to the mechanics of the arm that had been an absolute pain to obtain and even more of a pain to implement. That was a once and never again kind of experience, but it had been essential to get the mechanical parts to communicate with the natural parts of him. And while his dad and Axel were excellent technicians, they could not have pulled that off without the old man.

Now that there was no more 'empty sleeve' to cover it there were still some technical bits visibly attached to what was left of his arm - and a whole lot of scarring around it. Another reason he had strong feelings towards the workshop automaton - and even towards a grand example like Robbie - back in Hyrule Castle, even the mere suggestion of going back into experimental skin grafts made him reel more than he felt anyone would ever understand. It really struck a nerve - as it had literally a couple of times during the past surgery.

He would still openly answer any questions regardless of his past pains and sorrows, but it never felt any good at all to figuratively slap someone with such a mangled view, also the ridiculousness of being confined to swimming in circles had always proved too much for anyone to not make a remark on. Skipping all that, please and thanks. After he deemed himself far enough away from any one to have to get into the technicalities of it all he let himself into the water with all the grace a one-armed man could muster - the easiest way for him to swim was to just bob around on his back while letting his legs do the paddling (not skipping leg-day today).

Their alloy, like the Sheikah's clothing, was made to repel water and thunder. That ability to make clothing all-weather-resistant was the only bit of tech the Sheikah hadn't needed to wrest back from the Yiga, or dig up out of a cliff. For some reason the Sheikah had clung to their ways of making weatherproof clothes - there he was certain some old mum had had a say in that and it was very likely the slippers were skipped and they'd moved straight into dough pin territory.

Going forward, though, he loathed to think he'd be useless in the entire endeavour. It wasn't that he didn't trust the two swordswomen and windmage to know what they were doing, or some other form of misplaced chivalry, still for anyone to come to harm on his watch was not on his bucket list. There just wasn't any way at all to achieve taking back the laboratory on his own, but he did want to feel like he could help - even though he was a little impeded at the moment.
He could possibly bore some Yiga to death with the textbooks worth of history he could drone up from memory - or take a leaf out of the old mums' book and take to the dough pin.

While chuckling on that last thought he hadn't noticed he did in fact swim a circle and swam headfirst into the pillar of the pier.

***

The thing about bumping his head - in unison with being violently shaken from his long lament - was that it brought on some much needed clarity. If he'd ever be called daft it was because he'd get lost in so many minute details that he'd lose track of the bigger picture. The bigger picture here was that if there was ever a place he was going to learn anything about the Zonai's technology it would be in the place where the most of it was gathered. And if there was a way to make himself useful it lay in learning as much as he could in what remained of the morning to utilize it in the rest of their quest.
There was just no way to know what they would find in the laboratory. For all they knew it would be the leftovers of a pizza party and the whole place ransacked safe for the crusts that weren't eaten. But if they'd brought in their new favorite toys and put Robbie's 'none have yet tried'-philosophy to use before anyone else - well...


"Excuse me, but you are with the Zonai research team?" Even though he asked, the girl overlooking the racetrack obviously was wearing their uniform.
"Sure am, Fernison, happy to help! You interested in racing?" She eyed him - and specifically his lack of arm as if she was pondering something.
"Maybe, sometime. But I'm rather more interested in the devices used." Axel didn't notice the look she'd given him and was already studying what seemed to be a steering device that was outfitted with a little version of the researcher's uniform.
"With the help of Hudson Construction, we built this course for test-driving vehicles. At first it was meant for research, but it also turned out to just be a lot of fun!" Fernison explained proudly "Tali and Shabonne helped out to make a name for us and - haha - some initial traction. When Bolson branched out to build a course for boats, they moved on to Lurelin."

Fernison continued to explain in more detail how they outfitted their special steering stick and what data it collected and how much they had already learned about the parts. The rest of their conversation got so steeped in jargon, if any non-researcher joined them  at that point there was a real probability that both of them would be considered huge nerds.

Her explanations backed up his earlier assumptions, as he had seen on the automatons there was no discernible way the parts communicated with one another, their powersource only visible in a spine along the back. These parts had their source of power more cleverly hidden than the cores Axel was used to working with.  Unlike the Ancient Sheikahn cores - which provided an unlimited source of power - the Zonai batteries drained and eventually eliminated themselves. It bore thinking that the strike they had to be given to start whatever their action was got somehow kinetically enhanced, but only up to the point of depletion.

The how aside - the use of the parts proved not to be all too hard. As soon as they were attached somehow, they would function in unison. The different parts all had different - single - functions. According to Fernison there were wheels, balloons, missiles, fans and even more. She'd even seen the hero build a flying machine of just three parts. She had also seen him build a lot of other things that she got kind of bashful about.

But before Axel could be turned to Axelson and joined the ventures of the Hudson Construction company, Fernison announced it would be her breaktime.

He had been too engrossed to notice it was way past breakfast, surely the rest of his party would be up too by now. Small matter, they'd find him amidst the wheels and doodads.

[Sav'saaba]

Before first light, Lucke had shut the door of the inn behind her with stealth, convinced by the still forms occupying the beds near hers that she was the first to rise that morning. She had not dared approach closer to make certain; Hylia knew they needed their sleep dearly for whatever the day would bring.

After writing a note in the common room by the glow of her earring and leaving it where it could not be missed by Reverie, Lucke had boarded the gondola, the loaned sword at her hip and two pieces of flatbread from their dwindling provisions stowed away on her person.
The day before, she had found her attention drawn to the north by the susurration of distant waterfalls. Her note to Reverie delineated her route after she would disembark the cart, and how she would keep to the shoreline of the lake until she would reach the waterfalls, leaving no room to err were Reverie to come find her.

◆ ◆ ◆

It wouldn't hurt either, Lucke reasoned as she pulled her robes up over her head to strip down to the water-repellent and skintight black bodysuit favored by her people and folded the discarded clothing over a part of the rocky outcrop she had climbed to.

She had not done this since...
Since shortly before...

Lucke shook her head, and kicked off her sandals. A warrior needed intense focus, their mind unsullied, especially when facing trained assassins who would balk at nothing. She had heard the stories, knew of the staunch rejection by her clan of the Yiga's numerous attempts at collaboration. Ousting the Yiga from their stronghold would be a far cry from the patrols she had often joined with Reverie and her people, she suspected.

The morning was a crisp one, with the sun having yet to crest the horizon, but it felt nothing like back home. After all, as a child of Hebra, its chill had settled within her bones. Taking care not to slip on the wet rock or nick herself, she moved out onto a narrow ledge, a hand pressed against the cliff's side to steady herself. 

When the waters crashed into her, bludgeoning her shoulders and back, her system reeled.
She clasped her hands together as she gasped for air as though she was suffocating, and for a little bit, Lucke had trouble recalling words she had memorised before she had even truly understood what praying was.

As the verses flooded back to her, she settled into a meditative state, eventually finding perfect stillness under the roar of the waterfall as she mentally repeated and repeated the prayers, impurity washing away.

◆ ◆ ◆

With chattering teeth and trembling limbs, she sat on the outcrop near the waterfall and made a laborious effort of consuming one of the pieces of flatbread she had brought.
Not only had she been witness to the sunrise, she also had been to Axel sauntering along the lake's edge, and watched him stop close by to partially disrobe.

The fellow certainly looked the part of a blacksmith, she thought as she gulped down a bite of food while Axel waded into the water for a morning swim.

It did not seem that he had noticed her, though.

Not wishing to interrupt Axel's morning routine and transmute it into a morning meeting, Lucke had scooted closer to the cliff's wall at her back, but something kept her from averting her gaze.

Wasn't he one of her people? Lucke squinted as she turned her head to the side like a curious animal, a frown crumpling her forehead.

Why did he not have them? Not even his pedigree?

Beyond that surprising observation, she could discern the mechanical implants of what remained of his left arm and even from a distance judged them as crude, before finally granting Axel his privacy.

◆ ◆ ◆

Lucke had stayed for a while on the rocky outcrop after her kinsman had left, reclined against the cliff as she waited for her hair to dry, but then made her way to the grounds of the track to board the monorail to head back to the inn and check if Reverie was awake. Maybe Alyson would already be at the inn as well.

◆ ◆ ◆

She blinked at the sight of what looked like a vehicle. [Goodmorning.  Already up to no good?] she signed after waving to get Axel's attention, her eyebrows raising to punctuate the question and a quick flick of her eyes at the contraption near him, but then held up a finger as if to stop him from answering and adding something else in sign. [You did say that you would take a better look at my sword come morning,] she pressed, bearing the sweetest smile in her arsenal. [It is morning now.]

The reaction it garnered was not at all what she expected. In her imagined scenario the blacksmith would have chuckled at the insistence and held out his hand to her in invitation, or failing that, told her to cool it, that it was not the time for this, and she would have duly accepted such.

What did happen, was that he had narrowed his eyes at her, for a few moments that felt entirely too long, but most likely were not.

Nerves.



Axel stared at her, he possibly stared at her for entirely too long for someone who was expected to know what all the handwaggling had meant.
The thing was, he didn't know - he caught a good morning and then two other mornings. And try as he might, the whole bit in between meant very little. Not that he had stared at her for approximately three days, but he might as well have been.

"You're gonna have to level with a smith, miss swordsman," he eventually hung his head, giving up on recalling what Lucke had signed at him, "one that had been excused from all the ninja lessons."

He hadn't minded then, he sure minded now.

"For what it's worth, good morning, though."


Nonplussed but somewhat relieved by the confession, the tension just now having come from a simple misunderstanding, Lucke huffed a laugh as she shrugged her tablet from her robes.
It was unfathomable to her that an adult fellow Sheikah did not have a fluent grasp of sign, but as evidenced by what she had observed at the lake, Axel did not adhere to the same customs and traditions her clansmen did.
That was, perhaps, very fortunate.

"Played hooky too often?" she teased, knowing full well that must not have been the reason. "My bad. I assumed you knew sign, because yeste-" Oh, never mind that, and she wiped the last two words away with a sleeve. She must have imagined he had understoos her nickname for him. Guilty conscience.

"Good morning to you too. Did you build that?" she then added, and nodded at the vehicle.

"Actually, yes," he chuckled, while he tapped the hooky written on the board. "Don't tell on me, please." Giving her a sideward grimace.

"I used to sword fight, too, hardly long enough to get any good at it. I guess some things stuck and then practice became a bummer..." he shrugged, his gaze leaving the writing slate and went to the pile of parts that was laid out around them, "Anyway. I'm told we can use these. The wheels on this were already attached, but it's a start."

After a small pause and a look at one of the contraptions with wheels he continued, "I mean, what is a cart, but a plank with four wheels in the end. But here -" he put his foot on what could be a sledge but had very tiny wheels attached at the four corners and rocked it back and forth, "this skatey thing with just a fan to propel it seems very - uh - efficient." And a recipe for possible disaster - and according to Fernison unsteerable. But she was on a break. She didn't have to know. And the parts were plentiful.

A fellow delinquent, was he? Axel was sure to perceive the glint to her eye as he pushed the wheeled board back and forth with a foot.

Oh, the possibilities! Lucke cocked her head, taking a few tentative steps around what could prove to be a wonderful toy, dastardly plans taking form.

"Teach will be none the wiser, promise," she joked in response to his comment, holding up a hooked pinky finger.

"I used to shield surf all the time back home. Would this be able to go faster than a moose you think?" she asked and hopped onto the board, shifting her weight to get a feel for her altered center of gravity. 

A loud crackling.

A sudden blast of heat.

Not knowing or understanding its source, Lucke recoiled from it instinctively, proprioception failing as the board shot out from under her feet and lurched forward.

With a thump and a groan, the swordswoman landed flat on her bottom, her flailing versus gravity's pull fruitless.

Disclaimer: this was a bit of a joint venture with MJ.

[Emily]

There was nothing but darkness. Her legs threatened to give out with every step, but she kept running. Her breathing, shallow and quick, struggled to keep up. She would normally have been long asleep by now, safe from the cold of night, among her family. Though their lives were often hard and required daily work and upkeep, it was a comfort to be so protected, so safe. She wouldn't have been able to live with herself if she had chosen such comfort while Lucke... There was nothing but darkness, and also nothing but snow. The cold whipped around her, the blizzard whipping up dunes and threatening to turn her around. She could only hope she was going the right direction. The cloth wrapped around her nose and mouth, around the top of her head, kept her from freezing, kept her lungs from betraying her body by expelling precious heat. But it also threatened to choke her, withholding more air than it allowed through. A small discomfort.

"What do I do?" she had asked her parents. Her mother, the appropriately-named Winter, with her flowing white hair and withdrawn disposition. Her father, Lobak, with his dark blue hair and eyes, the colour of the sky just before dusk. He always deferred to his wife, and it was she that spoke first. "You are my daughter, you are my mother's granddaughter. You already know what to do."

The calm waters of her father's voice, a rumble barely felt. "If you go, we cannot come with you. If we were seen to have a part in this, it would threaten the safety of the community. But I know not to stop a Reneaux when her family is in danger."

The labyrinth rose up before her, more an absence of snow than a visible structure. A light, a fire just outside the the entrance. A red-robed figure drawing a sword. It was more instinct than thought that helped her draw her own, to meet it. A dodge, a deflection, a kick to his knee to bring him down. A-

Her eyes opened, her heart pounding in her chest so loud she worried it would wake the rest of the room. It was still the middle of the night. It seemed that even exhaustion could only get her so much sleep. She let out a breath and sat up, pulling hair away from her face and allowing it to settle along her shoulders. She didn't feel tired, which was a problem for the future, probably even later in the day. Pivoting gently, slowly, careful to not awaken any of her admittedly-also-exhausted companions, she pulled on the boots at the edge of the bed and eased to standing. She had slept only in her tunic and breeches, her armour protected beneath the bed. Her sword, freshly honed and oiled, stood against the side of the bed in its sheath. The armour would be too loud to carry, but not the sword.

The darkness of a land without snow was something she still struggled to comprehend. Reverie had only known the snow and rocky landscape of Hebra. During storms, the darkness was impenetrable, but it wasn't always storming. The moon, even the stars on nights wherein the moon was less prominent, glittered across every surface. And, of course, they were often blessed with the bright colours and lights in the sky. Navigation was easier than she found it here, where the dirt and grass absorbed more light than they reflected. She was still able to reach the land bridge connecting Tarrey Town to the wider expanse of Akkala.

To be in this place was surreal. Her grandmother had spoken of it often. Had spoken specifically of the citadel, a place she would have died. But Akkala had been important to her and the Reneaux family prior to the Calamity. She wasn't sure how- nobody had ever expected the opportunity to travel this far, so despite the endless stories, this was not one she had heard. Reverie crossed the rocky footpath, enjoying the cool night air. At the other end was a wide grassland with rolling hills. To the south, she could see the highlands reflecting the moonlight. To the north, the land continued lowering until the forests blocked her view.

It was peaceful out here.

All the sounds of people died away.

The sound was replaced by the whisper of the wind, coming up from the sea to the north and east. It spoke through the countless blades of grass, through the trees dotting the space. She also shared the night air with the insects, who sang to her. They had previously sang to her along the Castle Town outskirts, cutting through the impromptu tent she had fashioned for herself and Lucke. This felt... different, though. Without the anxiety of immediate borders, she could enjoy the sounds for what they were. Rhythmic, precise, regular.

Reverie knelt down in the grass. Laid her sword in front of her, hilt to the left, point to the right, still fully within its scabbard. She matched her breathing to the land's song, and let her thoughts drift. She crossed the market square of Castle Town as it was taking shape, signing back and forth to Lucke as they talked about how they would navigate a duel through the streets she saw a flash of red through the flap of their tent and scrambled for the sword before realising it was a bird the feeling of flying on Alyson's great contraption the feeling of her sword piercing through his sternum seeing the distant Akkala Citadel overgrown with plants and trees crumbling stonework feeling the weight of a body for truly the first time as she dragged it through the winding pathways of Lomei Labyrinth feeling the sword piercing through his sternum how cold the body was even after a few minutes her breathing wasn't in line with the space around her anymore how the blood looked on the snow

She opened her eyes.

She took a breath, held it for a few seconds, and released it to regain the rhythm.

She closed her eyes again, jaw set.

Akkala Citadel in the distance, the space so important to her grandmother her grandmother's voice cutting through, sharp and accented in that strange way she sometimes spoke "Sweet Riberie" gone for only a handful of years how she would have loved meeting the queen and Link she had known them before after all how her voice seemed more alive against the backdrop of the insects "when I look at you, I am so proud." "Grandmother, how do I get through this?"

No answer.

She opened her eyes again. This time, she felt calmer, more centred than she previously had. She stood up, drew the sword, and held it in front of her in both hands. The way her grandmother had taught her to carry it, the way her mother had reinforced constantly through drills, no matter how many times she tried to use it with one hand in order to grab or hit her opponent with the other. With the rising and falling energy of the song, she slowly lifted the sword over her head, and then slowly lowered it back into first position. As she felt the strain begin from the control, she changed her technique. Now she lowered to first position, then pulled back, then thrust, then lowered, flipped the blade, sliced upward, flipped the blade back to first position, then repeated. As she continued the exercises, she picked up speed, until she was swinging the blade from position to position, throwing in the occasional blocking manoeuvre or dodge step to one side, multiple times within one rise or one fall. She felt her arms begin to shake, saw the sweat begin to steam in the cool night air as she continued.

Eventually, she stopped, frowned at the place where the blade joined with the hilt. Her grandmother's sword had been perfect, balanced and extremely well maintained. It had also been the originally-forged blade for the hilt. Ever since they had reforged it post-Upheaval corrosion, it had never felt right. The balance was just very slightly off, and it bothered her.

"Killing a monster, a creature, no matter how intelligent or dangerous, is never the same as killing a person."

"My first kill was when I was 25. A Yiga patrol threatened our community. I couldn't let them escape to their leader. Your grandmother killed most of them, but I took out an archer who had been hiding. His face stuck with me for years."

"A young man came to the castle one day to request an audience with the King. He was a good looking man, young, with brown hair and green eyes. I believe htey later said he was from Lurelin. As he was meeting with His Majesty, I saw the smallest of movements. Being trained for these things and trusting my instincts, I reached for his wrist. He produced a poisoned throwing knife, attempted to assassinate the King. I was able to stop him, but in the struggle, he was cut with his own knife."

"I-"

She stopped, worked the words over in her mouth, and sighed. "I was half-blind in the snow. I think he attacked me first. I-I..."

After struggling for a few more moments, she sheathed her blade and walked around the forest until she found a splendid ridge from which she could watch the sunrise over the distant ocean. The sound of the water, so far below her, carried a weight and heft that she found relaxing, almost grounding. It was possible she dozed for a few minutes here and there, but it didn't feel like it. She was prepared for the day, as well as she could be, and found herself walking back across the land bridge to town when she heard a distant explosion, and began to run.

[LuckyBlackCat]

Back at her home, Alyson shifted this way and that under the covers. Sleep eluded her, as it often did if she didn't work herself to exhaustion, and now an additional factor made rest seem an increasingly distant possibility. She groaned and rolled onto her back, staring at the shadowed ceiling, with nothing to distract her from thoughts of the upcoming task and the myriad of ways it could go wrong.

What if not even the four of them could take on an army of veteran assassins?

What if she froze up and got her comrades hurt or worse?

What if the Yiga wielded weapons none of them had ever seen before, or had any idea how to counter?

What if, even if their group won, they ended up on the wider Yiga Clan's hit list?

Her fears blurred into one another as they clawed their way to the forefront of her mind, fighting tooth and nail for attention. Hour after hour trickled by. She curled up, resigned to a night of little to no sleep, right before a dangerous mission during which everyone would need their wits about them...

Movement in the corner. Silhouettes looming by the wall, the open window. One poised right beside her bed. A gleam of moonlight against a blade. Crimson staining metal, glistening, dripping. An iron tang in the air.

Alyson tried to jolt upright. Her body wouldn't cooperate, heavy as a felled log. She couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't run to warn the others. The Yiga, they'd been spying, caught on to their plan... A blur. A weight. The nearest figure suddenly at the foot of the bed in a catlike crouch.

"What's the matter?" A hissing, mocking voice. "Can't put up a fight after all? Just like your friends couldn't?" Cold flooded every vein as the reason for the sword's bloodied state became horribly clear. It raised. Plunged.

Her body jerked into motion. With a yelp, she flailed, limbs tangled in sweaty sheets. Gasping, she stared around. The weak sunlight streaming in revealed her to be the room's only occupant. A breathless laugh of relief bubbled from her throat. Pushing the covers off and sitting up, she wiped her forehead with the back of a trembling hand and took a moment to compose herself. Well, she'd gotten some sleep in all right.

Once her heartbeat slowed to a near-normal rate, she rushed to prepare for the day and gather her belongings, almost knocking over stacks of planks and crafting supplies in her haste. She wouldn't be able to fully calm down until she met back up with everyone else. Irrational thinking, she knew, but nightmares had that aftereffect. She ran out and burst into the inn to find none of her companions there, although a piece of paper on the common room table caught her eye. A note to Reverie, in Lucke's handwriting, mentioning to find her at the lake.

Alyson headed straight back out, hurrying through the streets of the half-asleep town, and climbed into the railcar. If everyone else was still up for building a cart, that would keep their minds occupied, at least for now.

No sooner had the railcar reached the end of its course than she leapt to her feet at an explosion from the Zonai area. Flinging the door open, she sprinted over to the racetrack, a tailwind buffeting her back with a flick of her fingers. "Lucke!" Drawing to a halt, she stumbled a little by the dazed red-haired heap at Axel's feet as the gust petered out. "You alright Lucke? What happened?"

She held out a hand to help the swordswoman up. "Heh... Wouldn't be the Zonai site without an explosion or two! Of course, explosions aren't usually the desired outcome. Unless rockets are involved, that is! A rocket would give a cart quite a boost, if something needed transporting fast! Buuuut that'd be pretty situational, and wouldn't really suit our purposes right now, no matter what a dramatic entrance it'd make! Ahaha! Besides, the whole cart'd have to be made of Zonaite, or something else suitably tough and non-flammable... Best to just stick with a standard one for now!"

She caught her breath, cutting short the tangent brought on by seeing her comrades. Well, two of them. "Anyway, have either of you seen Reverie?"