Hyrule's Creed

What a nuisance. It was a miracle that the only thing that Pallin was captured with was his field equipment - which, unfortunately, happened to be his telescope, a few vials for herbs, and a couple of measuring instruments for mapping out star charts. He had heard word of bandits from the goings-on around the castle, and what with some of his friends being guards, he heard a bit more than rumors. Hands-on, up-close encounters with bandits were told to him, and he heard everything about their physical appearance to their hideouts. For as much as he looked to the sky, Pallin must have had a poor attention span for the environment around him. This would not reflect highly on his performance, not at all.



He was out in Hyrule Field casually gathering herbs with a few other nonaffiliated people, when a group of men and women on horseback approached them swiftly. Pallin didn't know if they were specifically targeting him, or anybody else in the group, but the majority of them were taken hostage by the bandits. Blindfolded and ears plugged - some were even thrown into sacks - Pallin had no idea where he was going. He was a Sheikah, too - of all things, he should be the one doing surprise attacks. It was what he was trained to do. But, then again, fighting never was his strong suit. So maybe it was just as well that he was the one who ended up being kidnapped. He didn't fuss, however - the others that whined or made any noise were either kicked or beaten, and he didn't want that for himself. So, he stood there quietly. And stayed in the camp quietly for quite some time.



It was scary, being a first-hand witness to a bandit camp. It was unassuming, which made sense - they didn't want their hideout to be found out. Crude tents were pitched with bonfires spread about here and there. People in cages, dressed in the robes or rags that they were abducted in, chained together while the bandits tortured them for answers. Pallin wasn't an exception. But it was in this moment that he really, really wished he had paid more attention to his combat lessons. He'd be able to find a way out of this. But, of course, since he had ties to the Royals, he was taken out to be interrogated time after time. The questions that they were asking, though... they didn't add up, at least not in his mind. They weren't questions about the Royals at all - they were questions about him. What he does as an astronomer. What he reports to the Royal Family.

"What I report to the family, right" he began on several occasions. "Well, I'm an astronomer, so I report to the family about the stars." Of course he did, and they knew that, but what else did he report? Through slaps and punches, he slowly revealed his instrumentation. "I'm telling you - Different constellations affect people's magic differently! I just don't know why. Not yet, anyway - I swear!" But was it enough? For a time, yes. For a time, no. What constellations had any affect?! He had to wrack his brain for a few seconds, since that's all the time they allotted him. But luckily enough, he thought to switch details before he spoke. "The Serpentia Constellation, when it is overhead, causes those with Din’s alignment to be stronger. For the Simian Constellation, those who are aligned with Nayru to be stronger. With the Volucrian stars, those who are aligned with Farore are at their peak. Castus, Hylia, and Pilum for Demise. Phew. That was enough that hopefully they believed him. For it was a clever lie, knowing that he basically shifted things around slightly. He didn’t tell them the real name of the actual constellation that is associated with Demise, however. That name should not be spoken. Sursum Deorsum. But what he told them seemed to be good enough, for they stopped their interrogations.


There was one day, though - one drearier day, thanks to whatever blessing the Goddesses had provided - that they took him out of his cage. He expected them to force him to track stars again, but no. Instead, they merely cuffed him, muffled him, and blindfolded him. They led him by a leash and expected him to follow whenever they tugged on the leash. He walked for what felt like hours. Nearly collapsing over his knobbly knees, the world in its uneven terrain tripped him at every surprise. Then, the ground disappeared, and what took its place was a leather saddle with someone in front of him. He must have been far away from the camp, but the breeze he felt while bobbing up and down was a refreshing sensation. The air felt positively stagnant in that camp, probably from all the unwashed and underfed bodies holed up in tiny containers. But finally, the galloping came to a stop. The saddle disappeared, and rather painfully the ground met his feet. “Someone is here to pick you up,” one of the bandits said.

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"Can you fight" he heard.  Pallin was not a fighter by any stretch of the word - he would much prefer to be in the back lines, firing a volley of arrows on these lowlife grunts.  He was really not in much position to fight, but he would do what he could.  He was weak from malnourishment, nauseous from dehydration, and was rattled with nerves.  He didn't know what to do except rely on his reflexes.  Which, perhaps, is exactly the only thing he needed to do.  He was a Sheikah, and was trained for this.  He'd just have to use basic martial arts if he wanted to really make any kind of effective combat.  His worries were lessened when he saw the Dragelix, a mighty blade who would soon have lots of heroic tales to tell, if it didn't already.

"I'm really terrible at fighting," Pallin replied while adopting a neutral pose.  He'd have to fight southpaw against some of these bandits, but that was fine with him.  It was a tactic he was taught in his days at the Hidden Village; fight with an abnormal pose and the opponent would have a harder time gauging what would follow.  He had won a bout or two in his time, but his fighting skills were nothing to boast about.  No, he was much more inclined to outsmart someone than out-strength someone.  And above all, Pallin would absolutely not make the first move.  Even though the rain of arrows pitted them at their feet, Pallin would only dodge and let Josh take the lead.

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So many things happened within a few seconds.  They were assaulted yet again from some bandit interloping in the bushes, though Josh quickly disposed of him.  Then he was handed a bow and arrow.  "I can make use of this," Pallin thought.  Images of his adolescence flooded his head for a minute or two, and he drew the string to see how taut it was, the pressure, and how hard it would be to draw back.  Pallin's strengths were much more suited in his brainpower than his physical power, so he was by no means any expert with the bow, but he'd be able to at least shoot a target or two.  

"I serve the Royal Family," Pallin said, "And I am here to help further their mission to provide care and relief to their citizens."  He wasn't specifically tasked with monitoring any villages, towns, or individuals, but if he served the Royal Family, then he would act according to their mission.  And with the current turbulence in the ether, Pallin thought it a good thing that he'd have to learn to fight.  Even better that he'd end up saving lots more people than were lost by account of these bandits.  "I was blindfolded on my way here, but I could still see the sun through my blindfold."  He didn't know how much Josh knew about plotting directions based on the sun's placement in the sky, but Pallin reckoned that since the sun was setting, it was easy to tell which way was west and which was east.  

"The bandit camp's most likely in the eastern direction.  Keep an eye out for footprints, horseshoe prints, and whatever else.  I'll keep my ears open to listen for anything like a river or a waterfall.  I could have sworn we passed one, but then again I was too busy talking about the constellations I didn't hear too well."  

It wasn't much to go on, but it was definitely a lead.  Head east!  Sooner or later they'd find it - especially if they were to go to a desolate, isolated place.  He was happy that Josh was here; just a first impression told Pallin that Josh was a strong person who was led by a sense of conviction, courage, and justice.  "Let's be on, then," Pallin chirped.

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It wasn’t worth risking being caught again. Besides, if he were caught, then Josh Dragelion would likely have to come pay another ransom for Pallin’s safety, and he really didn’t want that for the knight. The knight who was already out here trying to ensure safety; what good would it do for Pallin to get caught all over again? “I’m going to fight,” he said with a little twitch of his nose. Goddesses, how he preferred studying. But he hadn’t been able to do that in a fair bit, but he did have to test the waters for combat. He knew he had to. Something in his gut told him that he wasn’t going to be able to study peacefully in the coming months, so he had better get his practice in now.

He grabbed the bow in his hand, placing an arrow in between his fingers and crouching on one knee. He peered over a fence post and took in the scenery: the typical bandit camp with makeshift tents, splintering fences, and dirt as their floor. Bloody dirt, by the looks of it - splotches of red and brown lay on the ground like an off-kilter polka-dot pattern. The campfire was put out recently, by the looks of it, perhaps to obscure their location. And then some of them made their way out of the gate heading somewhere - probably to see why their crew members hadn’t returned. Pallin’s stomach churned a little at the thought of what they’d see. But he’d have to steel himself, for a battle was coming up.

“I’m ready when you are,” he said to Josh. He pulled the arrow back a little bit, noticing the strength required to pull back the string. It wasn’t a grand effort, but a good hit would do a decent amount of damage, or so Pallin reckoned. He aimed at whatever target he thought distant enough, and waited for his command.

321 WORDS

Josh Dragelion

wee

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The quick instructions flooded his ears, and he could only stare at Josh Dragelion until it processed. It was an immediate throwback to his archery practice as a teenager, back during his days in the Hidden Village. But instead of moving targets, be them wooden or animals, these were actual people. They were people who meant harm, and Pallin knew how he felt on that spectrum. He hated violence - especially being violent, but he also hated when people were extra lenient on those who meant harm. If they had to be punished to save others from further harm, then so be it. He hoped it didn't mean death - he really hoped it didn't mean death. Alas, he notched the arrow along the taut string of the bow and pulled it back. He saw people fall with pools of blood under them, and his hopes were instantly crushed. He swallowed whatever saliva he had, his mouth dry from anxiety, and croaked "I'm ready," to Josh.



Target the one on the left, he thought. That's all he had to do - target the one bandit on the left side, let the arrow loose, and disable him somehow. Target his chest, he thought deeper. With the man about to walk toward the escaping horse, Pallin let his arrow fly. It pierced the air followed by the thud of the string. He closed his eyes, but it didn't do any good: he heard the squish of the arrow jutting inside the bandit's gut. He heard the sounds of choking and a thump. Pallin gagged, but he had to hold on to the idea that he didn't kill the bandit. Hopefully, his strike was enough to disable the bandit to prevent him from doing any more damage.

305 WORDS

Josh Dragelion

distraction time

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