Chapter Text
The dry air cutting the lungs like daggers with every breath.
Ache has turned to numbness.
Feeling nothing.
Only cold.
Rumbling falls silent.
Hushed whispers echoing.
Faint noise in the distance.
Beeping.
Is it still moving?
No, it lost its limps.
Ironic.
Smell of iron and dust makes it hard to breath.
Eyes see nothing.
Why?
Moving feels impossible.
Just wait?
The only option.
Waiting.
For something to change.
Waiting and hoping, that something will.
…
What was I doing?
She giggled wholeheartedly as their son kept trying to somehow get close enough to her.
But with her legs thrice as long as his, she got out of his wooden swords radius quicker than he could close in and swing.
The upcoming frustration in the boy’s focused eyes began to become apparent.
“Kiddo, I think your mother is a little bit out of your league when it comes to fighting,” his father laughed from his front row seat to his sons desperate attempts.
“Don’t encourage him,” Lilyann warned her husband, not sounding as serious as she was trying to.
He crossed his arms, watching as his son, now more determined than ever, charged at his wife, who barely managed to dodge this time, between all her giggles.
“Alfred,” someone called from his right.
Sighing, the knight stood up from the crate he had been sitting on during the whole spectacle.
Work never ended, did it?
He walked over to the guardsman that had been calling for him.
“What is it, Atticus?”
“Look at this,” the other knight just nodded to an archway that lead to one of the balconies.
He followed at Atticus, irritated by his lack of communication.
The laughter of his wife and son slowly drowning out, Alfred walked out onto the balcony.
The cool autumn winds send shivers down his spine as it tossed the orange leaves of Akkala’s trees around.
At first he saw nothing.
Only the far, nearly empty reaches of Akkala, a place he had to admit, he loved being at.
When he heard that he would be stationed here, he had absolutely no qualms about it.
There was something about this part of Hyrule that just.. put him to ease.
He knew Lilyann felt the same way.
His eyes squinted, trying to spot what Atticus wanted him to see.
The sun was already sinking behind the horizon and the dim light made it hard to make out shapes.
Was that…light?
“One of our patrols should be there,” Atticus said silently next to him.
Alfred’s eyes flicked to the young knight’s face, seeing the twitching in his fellow knights face and glint in his squinted expression.
“Simple Campfire’s don’t smoke this dark.”
“Who’s patrol is it? Is it Ilda’s?”
“No, Walt’s.”
“Maybe they just burned food,” Alfred tried to calm him, but simultaneously was overcome with a foreboding feeling as well.
“Should we send some scouts?”
Alfred nodded.
“Yes. Take Ilda, Scorn and Dima.”
As knight commander, he could not just ignore it.
Better a false alarm than a surprise attack.
“Yes, sir.”
Atticus immediately turned heel and disappeared through the archway.
Alfred remained for a while, watching the column of black smoke emitting from the distant spot at the cliff across Lake Akkala, towards the islands off the coast.
“That really is no normal fire,” he heard Lilyann reaffirm Atticus’ suspicion behind him.
It didn’t surprise him that she could tell.
He looked over his shoulder at his wife, Link holding onto his wooden sword and starring from one parent to another with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.
“No,” Alfred said confidently after a brief silent pause.
“We wait for our scouts to return.”
Whispers.
So much noise.
Why so sudden?
Why now?
Incoherent.
Can’t even focus on one.
What does it say?
I can’t hear it.
I want to hear it.
What was it?
I want to think.
Want to remember.
Why can’t I focus anymore?
Stop.
Please.
I want to remember.