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The sound of hushed voices awoke me from my sleep. It seemed as though I had dozed off in front of the cooking pot again. To my left, Lester sat snoring. A miasma of curry rice hung about him, pulsing with his breath. I gradually stood up, the segments of my spine cracking into place as I did so. The voices that woke me were coming from inside the stable. Turning that way, I saw a group of people clustered around the inside counter. I was still a bit disoriented from my sudden awakening, but I could clearly see two Rito and a Hylian, as well as Galli behind the counter. They seemed to be arguing. How strange. It wasn't uncommon for guests to get into arguments over prices or problems with their horses, but they were never Rito, and they certainly did not express their grievances in the middle of the night. In fact, I couldn't think of what Galli was doing up at this time of night. Running the stable required an early rise, and he needed all the sleep he could get. I decided to engage in a tad bit of eavesdropping to see if I could discern the cause of this argument. Choosing a spot near the wall where I could look like I was twiddling my thumbs, I started listening.
Galli’s voice was the first I heard. He sounded exhausted, almost desperate for something. His face was almost as red as the pigtails that descended from beneath his cap.
“Listen to me. You can’t go through with this. I don’t fucking care who signed what. I won't stand for this.”
The Hylian behind the counter sighed. He was a young man with short dark hair and coal black eyes. He wore a green sleeveless vest with a hammer logo on the breast and brown pants with white wraps above his waist. One hand held a pen, the other a clipboard.
“Listen, Mr. Galli. You are obliged to surrender the property in its entirety to Bolson Construction Incorporated by the end of the week. After the calamity, the stable system was sold to us. There's nothing you can do, so you might as well vacate now and save both of us a massive headache.”
“No fucking way. This stable is my home. I've been here since I was a child and I don't plan on leaving anytime soon.”
“Jesus Galli, calm down,” the taller dark Rito interjected. “Listen, I’m sure we can reach an agreement acceptable for both you and…” he gestured towards the Hylian behind the counter.
“Wilson.”
“Wilson, right. Maybe we can find a way to keep the stable running as before?”
“I’m afraid not,” Wilson replied. “With the current plan of construction, there won't be much stable left to run.”
“EXACTLY!” Galli’s whisper-shout made the wall frame tremble. “Listen Harth, you can’t allow these people to come here and destroy Rito Stable! It’s served Rito Village well for so many years!”
Harth sighed. “Unfortunately, I don't think there's anything I can do. You heard Wilson, the stable system is run by Bolson now. They own the land, they can decide what to do with it. I’m sorry.”
Galli tried to speak, but it clearly didn't work. His mouth just hung slightly open, greatly enhancing his shocked expression. Wilson had a slight smirk on his face.
“I'll be back at the end of the week. If you aren't ready to vacate by then, there will be people to drag you straight out of here and into a Necluda prison cell. Have a nice evening.” And with that, he put his pen onto his clipboard and walked out of the stable door and into the night, not even glancing my way. After a few moments, Harth sighed.
“Come on, Gesane.” The other brown Rito followed him out the door, spear in hand. Galli fell back onto his stool and put his head on the counter, sobbing. I felt a twinge of grief myself. I had been in and out of the stable on my journeys through Hebra, and it had become a nice familiarity to me. Oh well. With another stretch and a yawn, I returned to my stool to attempt to sleep through the rest of the night.
* * *
When I woke up the next morning, Lester was already hard at work cooking up a bowl of curry rice. He seemed not to notice me.
“Mornin’ Lester! How're ya doin’ today?”
Lester looked up at me and broke into a wide smile.
“Hey, Ponthos. Just cookin’ up breakfast. Care for some?”
“Well, that's mighty kind of you sir. Thank you!"
Lester turned back to the pot, Goron spice in hand. He had already added two bottles, staining the sizzling rice blood red. It didn't matter to me. Somehow it always came out perfect. Despite the impending doom of the stable, the weather was gorgeous. The air was chilly to perfection, clouds dotted a crisp blue sky above, and warm sunlight was slowly creeping its way through the stable grounds, filling me with a mysterious sunlightish joy. A sigh of satisfaction passed through my lungs. This was the life.
"Excuse me, sir?"
A familiar sounding voice rang out behind me. I turned around. There behind me stood none other than Wilson, wearing the same Bolson Construction uniform as the night before. It took me a second to remember I wasn't supposed to know who he was.
"Hey there! I don't think I've seen you around here before. What's your name?"
This response seemed to catch Wilson off guard. He probably wasn't used to friendly strangers.
“I-Wilson. I was wondering if you could tell me where the stablemaster is.”
“Nice to meet ya. Galli’s right over-”
I started to turn to point at the desk, but Galli was nowhere to be seen. There was nobody behind the counter.
“Huh. That's strange. Galli’s usually up an’ running well before this hour.”
Wilson’s deadpan expression did not contort in the slightest.
“Hm. Well, if you find him, tell him Wilson wants to see him.”
“Will do! GRAHAHAHA!”
My sudden burst of laughter sent a small wave of confusion rippling across Wilson’s face. He allowed himself a slight forced smile before turning around and heading back in the direction of the village. I turned back to the pot.
“Hey Lester, have you seen Galli this morning?”
Lester, who hadn't even noticed Wilson's approach, looked up from his curry rice.
“Oh, yeah! He came stumbling out of the stable early this morning and headed off to the village. He looked a bit tipsy if I'm being honest.”
“Man. Wonder what got him worked up? He’s never drunk like that before.”
“Couldn't tell ya” said Lester, before going back to his cooking.
Of course, I didn't have to wonder why Galli stumbled out of the stable blackout drunk in the middle of the night. However, I felt like it wouldn't be wise to tell anyone, at least not yet, what with it being official business and such. Suddenly, a massive cloud of steam rose from the pot beside me, engulfing Lester in a wet gray haze. A few seconds passed, then triumphant laughter began emanating from the fog.
“AHA! Its done!”
Within moments of his proclamation, the steam had completely dissipated, and a reddish brown mix of rice, sauce, and bits of meat was all that remained in the pan. The overpoweringly delicious aroma quickly wafted through the stable, and soon all of the inhabitants had gathered around the pot. Thankfully, Lester was as generous as he was good at cooking, so the grub was passed out in plenty. Nobody's breakfast lasted long. The line kept refilling as people came back for more, until finally there was a single helping left.
“There ya go, kid,” said Lester as he scooped the last bit of curry into Ariane’s bowl.
“Thanks, Les. Oh, by the way, Davi’s stomach is acting up again. I'm not sure what to do.”
“Shit. I’ll take care of it. Can you get the feed for today?”
“Uh, Galli told me to man the counter if he ever wasn't able to, so I think I should get on that as soon as possible.”
“Ah, yes. Alright then, I can get it myself.”
“Thanks Les.” Ariane turned and started making her way to the counter. Before Lester could continue to the horses, I stood up.
“I can help ya out if you need, Lester.”
Lester turned to face me. “Well thanks a lot, Ponthos. You know those buckets right of the stable, next to the road that goes through Tabantha? I need four of them full of the feed in the bags lying near the tree there.”
“Consider it done.” Lester smiled and turned to complete his voyage across the road to the area where the horses were kept. It didn't take long to find the buckets, which were lying in a pile under an overhang that jutted out from the stable. After filling up two, I made my way to the trough and dispensed the feed for the horses to enjoy. I was about to return to the feedbag for the second round of feed when I noticed something shining on the ground. Curious, I picked it up. It was a long, thin ink pen, identical to the one Wilson had been using. He must have dropped it at some point. I slipped it into my pocket and made a mental note to return it to him.
By the time I had finished with the horses, a sharp pain began to throb near my hip, right next to the pocket I put the pen in. I pulled it out. The bottom of the pen had come off, revealing a small, razor sharp blade that had been poking into my side. Strange.
I spent the day chatting with Lester and listening to Kass, who had swung by on his travels to visit his home. I had long since accepted the fact that I lived a very boring life. Gone were the days when I would dream of climbing the great snowy mountains, fantasizing about reaching the highest summits only to surf back down the smooth white slopes all the way to the place I started my journey from. I used to revel in Falmark’s tales of a legendary shield surfer who lived far off in the mountains, offering a reward for anyone who could pass her test of skill. But those dreams were no more, and Falmark had been shot and killed while sliding through Pikida Stonegrove. I buried my dreams of adventure with him, in the middle of the Tabantha Snowfield, and resigned myself to a simple life of travel. When Bolson took this stable, I would simply move to another, and make new friends, and greet travelers with my big, hearty laugh. Ah well. This was the way it was.
My thoughts were suddenly quieted by the approach of a stranger from the village. In all my years of travel, I had never seen someone quite like him. He was a Hylian, old in years but not in stature. He wore white pants with a white and red poncho belted around a sleeveless navy undershirt. It looked almost like armor. His hair was tied back in a bun, with two red sticks passing through it. He had an air of calm around him, although with that came the feeling that you should steer clear of neck-snapping range around this guy. The man made his way from the bridge all the way to the stable counter, where he began speaking to Ariane. It was almost dark, and Galli still hadn’t come back. I was beginning to get suspicious. After a few moments, Ariane gave him a pass for a bed and pointed towards the cooking pot. The man nodded his head, and started heading my way.
“Hey there! Who might you be?”
The man smiled at my greeting and took the stool next to me.
“My name is Omakh. Pleased to meet you.” His deep voice sent happy shivers down my spine.
“Nice to meet ya too!”
He let out a small chuckle, then took out a piece of meat and a pepper.
“I don't suppose you know how to make a spicy meat stew.”
“Actually, there's a recipe for that just inside, posted on the wall!”
“Really? How convenient. I'll go consult that.”
“Before you go, you wouldn't happen to have seen a redheaded Hylian with a stable uniform in the village?”
Omakh paused in his attempts to vacate the stool.
“Hmm, let's see. I actually did, now that I think of it. Just this afternoon, he was in the slippery falcon. He didn't look entirely sober. I think he bought them out of arrows. It was very peculiar.”
“Hm. Thank you.”
A small smile flashed across his face by way of acknowledgement. He then stood up, turned around, and went to consult the stable recipe, leaving me behind to mull over what he had just told me. I hoped Galli would come back soon. By this point, the sky was steadily darkening, and there had been no sightings of Galli or Wilson since the morning. I was beginning to worry. I had never seen Galli like this before. I needed to do something. If he hadn't come back by the next morning, I would go and find him.
As it turns out, I wouldn't have to wait all night to find him. I was taking a few laps around the stable perimeter before bed, like I did every night, when I spotted a wagon riding down the road to the Tabantha Frontier. At first I didn't give it a second thought, there were dozens of wagons that passed through the stable on a regular basis. However, the driver looked familiar. The red hair, the cap, the vest with the stable logo on it…
“Galli!”
Galli turned his head sharply.
“Who’s there?”
He almost sounded scared, like he didn't want to be seen.
“It's me, Ponthos! GRAHAHAHA!”
“Oh, it's just you Ponthos.” His tone switched from suspicion to relief. I had never heard him talk like this.
“Where ya off to?”
Galli wiped a drop of sweat off of his brow. It was thirty degrees out.
“Somethings-somethings come up. I need to take a few days off. Could you let Ariane know for me?”
“Why don't you just let her know yerself?”
He turned his gaze away from me.
“It's complicated. I have to get going now. I should be back soon. See you.”
“See ya.”
Galli flashed a quick smile, then snapped his reins. The horse carrying his wagon took off down the road. My confusion increased with its distance from the stable.
As I made my way into the stable, I heard a small grunt come from the pile of buckets on the side. It sounded like someone trying to call for help, but too weak to do so. I looked over in that direction. A small pool of blood was forming next to the pile of buckets. That couldn't be good. I ran over and started pulling the pile apart. Before long, I could see that there was someone underneath it. I screamed towards the stable for help before attempting to pull them out. A man with a giant beetle shaped backpack who I had seen around the stable a few times answered my call and ran over to assist. Together, we were just able to get the person out from underneath the buckets, which had grown a lot heavier than I remembered them being. They seemed to have been stabbed with a small, thin, black object that was protruding from their abdomen. Their face and arms had numerous deep cuts and slashes, including one right down their right eye, which seemed to be missing. They were losing blood, and fast. Beedle immediately stooped down to try and stop the bleeding. I was too shocked by their face. There before me on the ground lay none other than Wilson.
* * *
A few minutes after Beedle had slowed down the bleeding, Wilson suddenly came to. I was the first to notice.
“Wilson! Wilson, can ya hear me?”
Wilson didn't answer. Instead, he stood up and slowly pulled the black stick out of his body. There was a small razor blade on the end of it, drenched in blood. It was identical to the pen I had found after Wilson had left.
“Woah woah woah, don't do that, “ said Beedle. “That’ll just make you bleed more.” He turned to me. “We need to get him into the village. The innkeeper can probably heal him. Not much more I can do.” I nodded in agreement, then turned back to Wilson, only to find that he had started limping towards the same road I had watched Galli go down not ten minutes prior. Beedle ran to stop him.
“Hey! Hey! Stop!” He was about to grab Wilson’s shoulder when Wilson suddenly turned around and punched him in the face.
“FUCK!”
Beedle stumbled backwards and fell with his hands covering a bloody nose. Wilson turned back around without another word and started limping as fast as he could away from the stable. He wasn't very fast.
“Wilson! Wilson, what's happening?” He ignored me. He looked almost scared. His expression was disturbingly similar to Galli’s. Before long, he had passed over the hill and outside of the stable limits. I looked his way for a few moments before going to help Beedle.
“What happened here?”
I turned around. Omakh had appeared behind us, looking towards the horizon. I explained to him what had happened, omitting identities and my encounter with Galli.
“Hm.” He continued looking off towards the hill where Galli and Wilson had gone. “Ponthos, could you do me a favor?”
“Of course! What is it?”
“If someone comes down this road tonight, send them to me. I’ll be sitting in the lumber yard.”
“Alright then. I’ll send them your way.”
“Thank you.” Omakh smiled, then turned and began making his way towards the woods on the opposite side of the stable. I made sure Beedle was alright before helping him up and back to his backpack. He muttered his thanks, then retreated indoors to rest for the night. I was about to follow him, but something stopped me. The last day and a half had been extremely odd. Although I knew whoever Omakh was waiting for could probably find him on their own, I decided to wait for them. After all, I was curious. I found a sturdy bucket, set it next to the road, and sat down to wait.
I had been sleeping for about an hour when I was awoken by the voice of a stranger.
“Hello, sir? Can you hear me?”
I slowly opened my eyes. Before me stood an elderly man, slowly coming into focus. He looked exceptionally strong, and was wearing a Bolson Construction uniform identical to Wilson’s, except his vest was red. I yawned.
“Loud an’ clear. What can I do for ya, Mister…”
“Emerson. I'm looking for a Sheikah man named Omakh. Have you seen him?”
I pointed towards the lumber yard.
“Well, I don’t know anythin’ about a shrieker or whatever you said, but there's a fella named Omakh right on the other stride of that stable there. He’s waitin’ for ya.”
“Thank you.”
Emerson began walking towards the point I had indicated to him. It wasn't until his back was facing be that I noticed a rather sinister looking traveler’s sword hanging from his belt. Interesting thing for a construction worker to be carrying around with them, especially since it seemed to be the only thing on his person at all. My course of action was pretty clear by that point. I needed to get to the bottom of this somehow, and I doubted anyone was going to just tell me what the fuck was happening. As soon as Emerson passed out of view, I started walking as quietly as I could around the back of the stable towards the yard.
By the time I had secured myself a bush with a good view of where Omakh was sitting, Emerson was approaching him. Omakh was the first to speak.
“Good evening.”
Emerson stopped.
“Good evening. I’m sure you know why I’m here.”
Omakh nodded.
“Indeed I do. But before we proceed, tell me, what became of poor Wilson?”
Emerson let out a haughty laugh. “Wilson? He couldn't even defeat the stable manager. I’m sure you saw what became of him?”
Omakh let out a small breath of laughter, then stood up. “I can assume. Where was Galli off to?”
Emerson snickered again. “Doesn't matter now.”
Omakh sighed. “No, I suppose not. What a shame. I suppose I made it easier on you by coming here. You had both of us in the same basket.”
Emerson smiled. “And for that, I thank you. Of course, if Wilson hadnt fucked up so badly, it would’ve been easier. Oh well.”
“So Wilson’s his real name?”
“Who knows. I told Kohga that he was incapable. He didn't listen, of course.”
Omakh let out a real laugh this time. “Well, you know the boss. Always championing the younglings.”
It was Emerson’s turn to sigh. “Tell me about it. It was a new guy’s fault that Galli was even a witness in the first place.”
“Such a shame about him. All he wanted was to save his stable.”
“Well, we can’t have people running around telling other people about us willy nilly. Which brings us back to the purpose of this visit.” Emerson drew his sword. “You seem a decent fellow, I hate to kill you. But, you know how the boss feels about turncoats, and you've been away for quite some time now.”
“Of course. I hope you don’t mind me making one last attempt at self defense? I’d hate to go down without a fight.”
“By all means.”
At that moment, a previously unnoticed squirrel jumped out of the bush and onto my face, scratching my nose. I instinctively cried out in pain and fell to my side. The two men, who had been facing each other, both turned in my direction. Emerson raised an eyebrow at me. Omakh sighed deeply.
“Ponthos, is it?”
I nodded, too scared to speak. Omakh flashed a small smile.
“Can you do me one last favor?”
I nodded again, still unable to speak. My legs were frozen to the ground. Omakh slowly turned back to Emerson and pulled a long, curved sword out of his sleeve.
“Spare me a thought once you’re gone.”
There were a few seconds of deafening silence before Emerson flew forward with unfathomable speed and plunged his sword into Omakh’s chest. My legs instantly unfroze as Omakh fell, and I started to stumble backwards, trying to get up and run. Emerson rose from the ground and threw the traveler’s sword away before turning to me. Suddenly, he was engulfed in a puff of smoke that quickly gave way to a man, presumably still Emerson, but completely clad in red armor and a mask with a mauve eye painted onto it. A demonic laugh filled the air around me as I was finally able to pull myself from the ground and start running blindly towards the paddock where the horses were kept. I grabbed one of the horses, ducked to avoid two oncoming arrows, and got onto the road that went to Tabantha Stable.
I rode as fast as I could. I could hear puffs of smoke behind me and see bright orange light out of the corner of my mind, but I paid it no mind. The only thing I thought of was getting as far away from Rito Stable as I could. I had no idea what was going on, but I no longer wanted to find out. I hadn't been riding for long when Kolami Canyon swung into view from around the bend. My horse charged forward. I had almost made it past the wood of the bridge when my horse suddenly fell beneath me, throwing me onto the rocks below. As I tumbled across the road, I caught a glimpse of two arrows sticking up out of the horse's side, and a ring of red light forming behind him. My leg was definitely broken, but I barely noticed as I got up and started hobbling down the road as fast as I could. I needed to get away. All I had to do was-
My ears were already ringing when I hit the ground. I could barely feel the arrows lodged into my back, but I knew they were there. My forehead hit the stone road beneath me, smearing the ground with blood. As the hot red copper liquid trickled into my eyes, I was just able to look up towards the alcove ahead of me. There, stuck into the rocks, was a spear that passed through the chest of a lifeless man with red hair and a stable uniform. Below him lay a blood soaked green vest. The rest was probably around here somewhere. Before I could think about how I was going to survive this, the red ring of light appeared right in front of me, and with a puff of smoke, there was Emerson, sickle in hand. I closed my eyes. Blood spilled out of my eyelids. The ringing in my ears subsided, only to make way for a demonic laugh that filled the air around me and the soft whine of the blade that was descending towards my head.