Chapter Text
I can’t breathe. Shit. Hylia, I’m going to die. That's not being dramatic, that's a fact. It won't be of natural causes, laying in bed surrounded by family that's for sure. All I can do is wait.
The air was incredibly dense with heat, clogging my throat. The cloth walls that made up the interior portion of Outskirt Stable as well as the trees surrounding the stable were stationary, as no wind blew. No clouds were in sight, and the dirt path leading up to the fortified tent rippled in the heat. The dry grass cracked and crumbled under my boots as I begrudgingly took a pail filled with grooming supplies to the horse stalls. I haven’t seen anyone outside yet; they’re all inside those cloth walls doing their work there. Swarming clouds of miniscule, irritable bugs surrounded the horses, attracted to the seemingly never-ending stench of horse manure. I’ve conditioned myself to get used to the smell, but the bugs were always a nuisance, especially their incessant buzzing.
They stuck themselves to the horse hair, and eventually got themselves entangled in the grooming brush. I would find them in every single crevice, and it gets rather bothersome real quick. Some adventurous ones tried to climb in my nose, causing me to sneeze on multiple occasions. The two horses occupying the stalls each flicked their tails and shook their heads in a determined attempt to ward off the pestering flies, but to no avail. I too tried to swat away the insects in between brush strokes, but nevertheless they keep getting interweaved in my thick, sweaty, not to mention frizzy hair. I sighed, acknowledging the fact that I’m most certainly going to have to wash myself again, despite the fact that I had bathed merely yesterday. Oh well, those are the sacrifices you have to endure while working in a stable.
Everything was coated in a layer of sweat and dirt. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to breathe, so the horses are going to have to be subjected to my wheezing. The grooming brush I was holding was absolutely covered in sweaty horse hair, and on multiple occasions I nearly inhaled all of it along with the bugs whilst trying to take in deep breaths. My hands shivered as I scraped my finger along the brush, watching the grime collect in my long fingernail. Flicking it away, I looked up straight to the sky, my eyes stinging under the blinding light. The cloth that usually cover the horse's stall were getting cleaned today, so no shade for the horses… or myself for that matter.
The heat was beginning to clog up my throat, and my breath increased to a rapid pace. My lungs were practically begging for fresh, cold air, but I'm not getting that anytime soon. The heat unfortunately triggers something in me, thus causing me to choke on my own breath. Trying to brush it off, I huffed through my nose, struggling to conceal my panic.
Nope! Bad idea; less air.
There was a tightness in my chest, contracting my lungs and cutting off my air supply. A sinking feeling set in, and a rush of fear raced through my mind. My throat closed gradually as mucus coated the walls of my mouth. Breathing faster and faster until I began to hyperventilate, I clenched my fists and patted my thighs to try and distract myself; a pointless effort essentially. I pinched my neck with my nails, pressing harder with every cry out I made.
I’m gonna die if I don’t breathe now! Breathe— I’m trying! Just… relax and ground yourself— I can’t! Remember what dad said— that’s not gonna help! Just try— SHUT UP.
The two voices in my head combated for my attention: my rational side, and my side fueled by pure fear. Much to my dismay, the latter was winning. I desperately attempted to swallow my spit and hold in my tears, but the tears just rolled down my face. Shaking, I leaned onto a post, hoping no one would see me alarmed. No one can see me in this condition, or else they might pity me… I don’t like that.
It truly felt like bed sheets were wrapping around my head, trying to suffocate me. Clawing my way out of these metaphorical sheets wasn’t an option, not when everyone can see me freaking out.
Speed-walking frantically to the well behind the stable, I moved on my toes, avoiding the possibility of making any noise. I despise burdening people with my dumb breathing problem. Besides, it’s not a big deal in the grand scheme of things. Immediately, I took notice of the trees beside the well and the cliff behind the trees casting a large shadow, providing me a fleeting moment of refuge from my pain. At this point, my vision was becoming clouded in black dots. Bending over and hurriedly scooping lukewarm water into my parched and itchy throat, I gargle the water, getting rid of any extra phlegm in my mouth. Handful after handful, I continued to drink, taking in full breaths in between. The relief rushed over me like a waterfall as my airways cleared when I swallowed the water and I took a breath of sticky air. They were shaky breaths, but at least I wasn’t choking anymore. I was still crying, so I pinched my neck until my heavy wheezing halted. When I removed my hand there was an indent on my neck.
You’re stupid, you’re so stupid. Just stop. They’re gonna notice now.
My chest still had a lingering tightness, but I know that will go away soon enough. I held my hands behind my head, as apparently it helps to open up my airways; a somewhat helpful tip I learned from dad. My legs continued to wobble, but I paced back and forth, turning every couple steps.
One, two, three, four, turn. One, two, three, four, turn.
Returning to work, I snatched my brush to continue grooming the horses, as well as scrape the dirt from their hooves, comb their mangled manes, and, if anyone requested it, style their hair and switch out their saddles. I just wanted to get my mind off of the events that just occurred seconds ago, and this normally does wonders at distracting me. I find myself getting lost in braiding horse hair frequently, but I guess I do like the repetitiveness to it, as well as the end result. Sinking deeper into my own thoughts, my breathing relaxed, and I was pulled back to reality. Melodically brushing horse hair, I was thinking of what else I should be finishing today. Work has been slow lately, as no travelers stopped by. Well, travelers with horses at least.
I always pondered on why people travel without horses. Sure, it’s challenging to catch a wild horse because there is the immense chance of getting brutally kicked in the ribs, but after some practice it comes fairly effortless. If you bond with them enough, they’re awfully loyal, and not to mention a remarkably fast getaway method when monsters spring up out of nowhere, which has been an increasing risk for a while. This is especially helpful for when I absolutely cannot run away from danger, which would happen to be always because my damned lungs are essentially futile.
I wiped the beads of sweat off of my forehead and the drying tears on my cheeks with my glove-less hands. I took them off earlier along with my wool lined stable hand hat because of the searing heat that made my head feel like the top of a cooking pot. We're not supposed to take them off because of mandated protocol, but I really don't care. I hate those hats anyway, and I’m certain everyone else here would unanimously agree. Who wears wool-lined hats in disgusting heat anyhow? As for my hands, I'll have to scrape some dirt out of my lengthy fingernails and wash them multiple times to get rid of all the grime that has accumulated. I understand that I wouldn’t have this problem if I just cut my nails like my entire family suggests, but what can I say? If I’m caught without a weapon I can resort to gouging eyes out. It’s crude, but if it works it works… Let’s get back on topic.
Around fifteen minutes after my whole breathing problem fiasco, I completely finished brushing my horse, Cucco. Odd name, but sometimes she acts like a Cucco: a timid creature until she's fed up and lashes out. I act the same way too sometimes I must admit (although to be fair, I can’t stand confrontation, so I’m more of a keep-grudges-and-curse-under-my-breath sort of person). Of course, this aggressive behavior can be rather difficult around strangers, but I can understand her well enough to keep her feistiness contained. It’s just upsetting when people view her as nothing but a dangerous creature, but she’s simply misunderstood.
I haven’t braided her mane in a while, and since there was nothing else I could really do at the moment, I suspected it would be an ideal time to practice. I prepared to mount her bareback, clutching her mane gently and swinging my right leg to gain some momentum. It was a tight squeeze, as she took up the majority of her stall and the hay up to my ankles that littered the floor slowed my swings. My vest snagged multiple times on loose nails, slightly tearing apart the tough leather. Before I could mount, she shoved my back with her head, gesturing towards her trough for some new water. I really don’t blame her one bit.
"I know, I know, it's warm out today," I muttered in a muted, yet playful voice. My “special” voice I use to talk to animals. Before I could empty the filthy bug-filled trough, my sister, Sadie, tapped my shoulder, holding a neat little bundle wrapped in a burlap cloth coated in beeswax. Her baggy blue eyes had a dead expression, her lips curled into a frown and her unwashed blonde hair stood stiff at her ears.
I leaned over to touch her hair, which was oily as all get out. “You need a bath, stinky.”
She flinched and swatted my hand away. "Does it look like I care, dingus? Mom said to give you extra food before she left. She said you didn't have breakfast," she huffed.
That was true, but how did she know? Mom left for some merchant convention earlier to barter a couple of extra items she wasn’t able to sell here, but that was before I woke up. I only sighed. "Oh, thanks." I wiped my dirt-caked hands on my tan pants, leaving unflattering brown streaks.
Then, my vision became dark again. Oh no no no no. Stood up too fast. Even as I saw Sadie standing in front of me holding the package, I zoned out. My reality was crumbling again, deteriorating each second. The straw stuck in my boots poking my feet disappeared, the ripples over the horizon increased, the buzzing of the insects disappeared and I lost all sense of time. I just stared blankly. Dammit. C’mon just take the food. Take it! What’s going on? I gripped Cucco’s mane to keep myself balanced, and she grunted in return. After an awkward moment of silence, Sadie shoved the food in my hands.
"Aerona, gonna take it or what?" she proclaimed, clearly annoyed. She’s normally grouchy, but the heat is probably making it worse. At least she couldn’t tell I’ve been crying. I took her eye bags into account. Stayed up too late again I see. My brows furrowed and I twisted the fabric to open the package. Leftover fried greens and… Ah there’s nutcake. I would’ve just had an apple, but mom insists I take her food, and when mom insists, you better damn listen.
“Y’know, Sadie, just because it's your birthday doesn't mean you can be rude like that," I complained as I finagled my way out of the cramped stall. Sadie stuck out her tongue and I immaturely mimicked her. She's 14 today, but not for a couple more hours. Yet, her mood doesn’t match a normal person’s mood on one’s birthday. If I’m correct, she’s probably trying to act more mature. It’s not working.
“Well if you just took your food, maybe I wouldn’t be rude,” she retaliated, while tightly crossing her arms. Cucco shuffled forward in an uneasy manner.
“That rhymed, and scoot over, you’re bothering Cucco,” I jeered with an amused smile plastered across my face, eagerly watching her reaction.
She gave me an icy look with twitching eyes, as if I’ve just horribly offended her. What, can't you have a little fun? Man, what’s her beef?
“OK? And? Oh, yeah, do you know if dad’s coming today?” she inquired. In regular circumstances, dad would have the ability to stay at the stable, leave early for work and come back late. Today, however, he’s probably swamped with work.
Glancing up from my food to stare at her scowl, I fidgeted with a stem from a carrot. “I dunno, ask mom. He’s probably not coming, and if anything we're the ones going to see him. Even then, that might not happen. We can see him next time we go to Castletown, which won’t be a possibility for a while, dumdum.”
Unfortunately, Sadie—as well as my youngest sister Kae— get exceedingly impatient regarding visits.
On a typical weekday, Sadie, Kae and I have the opportunity to go to nearby Hyrule castle and observe dad’s work in the field, as a substitute for our education. No one really minds us sticking around as long as we let everyone work. Actually, most of dad’s scientist friends are eager to teach us the supposed wonders of science and education and they claim to want to “enrich the next generation of aspiring scientists” (I wish I had the heart to tell them I’m more interested in painting). Sometimes, they’ll even sneak us a book or two to read at the stable. I’m very grateful we get these chances, especially since dad has soldier friends that teach me how to fight in their spare time. Like he says, it’s not about who I know, it’s about who knows me.
In any case, Sadie’s well aware that dad has a new duty to fulfil, which currently would be to aid the Sheikah scientists back at the castle with researching the Guardians and other ancient relics utilizing extensive knowledge in mathematics. We were originally taken aback by the recent news of dad having a different occupation, seeing as he was formerly a biologist studying marine life population and whatnot, but the king pressed that he required an abundance of people to figure out this whole... situation.
“You’re a dumdum,” Sadie groaned at the lovingly degrading nickname I gave her. “But we can go after the weekend’s over. Y'know if we just stayed in Castle Town—”
“You know full well why we can’t do that,” I interrupted her immediately.
I want to remind her why for the upmteenth time, but to do that, I have to mention it. I loathe talking about it. “It” being Calamity Ganon, the entity prophesied to destroy the entirety of Hyrule. Whenever I hear of it, I think of unspeakable things happening to people I love. Slit throats, getting mutilated, killed by monsters, all those intrusive thoughts occur daily. It’s horrible, but I can’t help it. It’s like I’m preparing for the inevitable. Or perhaps a more reasonable answer is I’m just overly paranoid.
Another factor that adds to my ever growing anxiety: the king has strongly advised anyone in the castle or in close proximity to take precautions to protect their families from accumulating monsters appearing around the castle grounds, as well as the general population of Hyrule. Growing monsters means it’s harder to protect my family, which means that they might die and then I might die and then… There's my problem. Even before this suggestion was put forth, Calamity Ganon was prophesied to rise again 10,000 years ago, and it just so happens to be soon when he will return. That’s essentially the entire reason we’re not allowed to stay in Castle Town, and I truly wished my sisters understood. What can I say though, they are still children after all… at least children a few years younger than I am.
I picked up a carrot and dangled it into my mouth. Sadie scrunched her nose and her lips pushed outward, grimacing at my uncouth eating habits. “Um, ya know you should probably wash your hands before eating that.”
“Yeah I’m quite aware.” I sneered, and ruffled her shaggy, greasy, blonde hair before she could duck out of my way.“Ha! Well maybe you should wash your hair. You stink, stinky,” I lightheartedly teased.
Proceeding to agitate the living daylights out of each other, we spat out any and every insult we could muster up, until I urged Sadie to scram before I punched her. Sadie pushed out her jaw and pivoted her heel to march back to the stable but Kae came bounding over to us with her dusty hands clasped over something and stopped Sadie dead in her tracks. Kae’s strawberry blonde hair appeared more earthy brown with all the literal dirt stuck in it, and her round face was spotted with bits of grass. Did she faceplant in the dirt or what? I wouldn’t put it past her, but still.
“Check it out! I caught a frog!” she squealed with pure giddiness. I bent over with my hands on my knees while Sadie slouched with her bony arms crossed, looking in another direction. Kae cracked open her hands to reveal a large green frog with bright orange webbed feet.
“Hold on, hold on, everyone out of the stall before you continue,” I exclaimed while pushing my sisters out of Cucco’s stall and to the front of the stable right next to the cooking pot. Cucco puffed through her nostrils and raised her head, signaling she’s glad we’re finally leaving her stall. As soon as we were out, I widened my eyes and pulled a big grin, gawking at my sister’s new friend. “Oh, cool! Where’d you find it?”
Kae pointed a finger to a cluster of trees across the path, forgetting for a moment she had a frog in her hand. Coming to a realization, she swiftly closed her hand over the frog so it would not escape.
“So?” Sadie mumbled in a hushed voice. I jabbed her in the ribs with my elbow while clearing my throat.
“Hey!” she cried, and proceeded to slap me on the arm. “What was that for!?”
I squinted narrowly at her, gesturing my open hand towards Kae while shaking my head. I lowered my tone to a harsh whisper, “Just be more nice, please.”
She sighed deeply and strode away. I shouted to her before she made it to the inn, “Thanks for the food!” Without turning around, she gave a thumbs up and then disappeared into the inn, maybe to talk to Uleric, the stable master, for more information about her new duties at the stable now that she’s of age to work and get paid for it.
Kae peeked between her fingers to see the frog again. Then, she looked at me eagerly with a huge, innocent smile. “Should I name him? I should name him. What should I name him?”
“It’s a girl. See that circle behind its eye? It’s smaller than the eye, so it’s a girl.”
“So what should I name her then?”
“… Gertrude? I dunno? That sounds like a frog name.”
“Nah… Dumpling! That’s a funnier name, ‘cause she’s all chubby like a dumpling.”
I rolled my eyes at her rejecting my perfectly good frog name and cringed at the poor thing. I know that oils in our hands are dangerous for their skin (something one of dad’s scientist buddies told me a while back), but I neglected to mention it to Kae earlier. I’ve caught my fair share of frogs before, but I use gloves now. This would be a good time to tell her what I’ve been told.
Before I could teach her anything, Kae seemed to have received my mental message. She examined the creature again and let out a sigh. “I guess I might as well let Dumpling go. Oh, also, whatever you do, don’t tell Chlinna!”
“Tell me what now?” a soft voice chimed in. I spun around to see Chlinna, an older stable hand from Lurelin Village. Jeez, she’s quiet. I almost didn’t hear her. Her muted grey eyes were red with exhaustion and her tightly coiled black hair exploded in all sorts of directions. Another late sleeper. It seems as though Kae is the only well rested one here. Chlinna relaxed her gangly arms on her sides whilst picking on a loose thread coming from her pants. Despite her tired appearance, she seemed to look almost flawless, with her dark skin shining in the sun even under all the sweat, and her eyes still lit up by the glowing sunlight, regardless of the redness. I blame this on her ability to make supernatural-like elixirs. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had made some peculiar elixirs to make herself look less tired than she genuinely is. She probably chugged one the night before.
“Ah, nice of you to join. I finished your duties for the next hour. You’re welcome,” I taunted.
Kae tucked her arms in, sheltering the frog from Chlinna’s potentially ‘malevolent’ intentions to make an elixir out of the poor thing. Her eyes flashed wide open, and I could almost see the cogs in her head turn to make up an excuse. She finally mumbled, “You’re—um, not getting this one! I already named her Dumpling, you can’t kill a named frog. Those are the rules! Because I said so!” Before anyone else spoke a word, she scuttled away like a frightened crab, taking the frog to a lone bush in the shade.
Chlinna gently shook her head, her curls swishing and bouncing along with the movement. She loves my sister dearly, almost as if Kae is her own younger sibling. She has no other family, so it would make sense that she would get attached to my little sister. I mean, it also simultaneously gives Kae a break from our constant teasing. Those two spend nearly every second of the day together, to the point where I’m admittedly a little shocked this frog development didn’t come up previously between them.
Without notice, Chlinna grasped the sleeve of my shirt and slightly stood on her toes to meet my eye level. Her grip was firm and the tightness of her muscles transferred to mine as she gazed past the cliff over the glittering Aquame Lake, donning a dead stare in the direction of the coliseum. A dramatic, warm breeze blew by. Strangely on cue…
I pursed my lips and sharply inhaled, taken aback by her unusual demeanor. “Uhh, hobgoblin, you alrigh—”
“Where’s Vyari? Uleric’s wondering,” she asked, with her thick brows scrunching together as she spoke. She normally retaliates the nicknames I give her that poke fun of her height, so she must be legitimately distressed to not even comment on it.
Of course I would normally be concerned with the disappearance of my, quite frankly dearest and closest friend, but that idiot probably snuck off to hunt for any sort of meat that Uleric, his uncle, refuses to buy in crates for us. It’s costly balancing it with other necessities. It’s unlike Vyari to leave so early in the day, but I understand it’s one of his only escapes from his constant stable life, whereas I get to go to Castle Town just about every day. It’s not fair, but those are the circumstances. And life’s not fair apparently… Thanks dad?
“Who, the dingbat? Where d’you think he is?” I say, hoping she would assume where he was by my inferring tone.
The muscles in Chlinna’s face relaxed, and she gave a solemn nod before whispering, “Hunting. Thought so.” She released me and instead grabbed the edges of her red vest, flapping them repeatedly to generate some cool wind while retaining her original, shorter posture. “Well, I guess I’ll break the news to Uleric. Thanks anyhow.”
I had my answer prepared ahead of time. A standard “no problem,” or “yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” ran through my head. That’s what was supposed to happen, but no words escaped my lips. Something was profoundly wrong—gut wrenchingly wrong— and my heart shriveled. There were no sounds, other than that piercing blood curdling scream.