[color=f3f9c7][center][h3]¢σмє тσ тнє gяανєуαя∂. 

¢σмє qυι¢кℓу. 

тιмє ιѕ σƒ тнє єѕѕєη¢є....[/h3][/center][/color]


[hider=Theme][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mhwUcaJPayk[/youtube][/hider]

"[color=FF5733]So explain to me why we’re doing this again,[/color]" Archer asked, for the seventh time that long, bustling morn. 
They were wading through festival goers, bright, lively and oft not paying attention to their purses at all. Archer, reformed only in his brother’s watchful red eye, was unamused by how easy he might have turned a profit.
They were pacing up towards a narrow path, the stretch of silent green which broke the line of sight between Kakariko and the graveyard beyond. One of them vibrant, and lively, especially today – the other a place of stillness. Of death. 
Zephyrus was totally serene about this: as calm and mild as the breeze. Archer, however, had been on edge for the best part of a month. This, he had concluded after a long talk with himself in the mirror, was [i]madness.[/i] Complete and utter.
"[color=267FD3]I feel like I needn’t,[/color]" Zephyrus replied, nodding politely to a bemused Hylian child as he passed them by, "[color=267FD3]You have both seen and heard everything that I have.[/color]"

"[color=FF5733]That’s just it! Are we really headed to a cemetery because a [i]voice in my head[/i] said we should? That’s crazy![/color]"
"[color=267FD3]I heard them too, brother.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Hey, I hear it runs in families![/color]"
Zephyrus slowed their pace to a crawl, then a stop, and gazed into Archer’s eyes with the sort of guilt-inspiring look only a pacifist could give. No tears, no quivering lips: just disappointment, radiating out from his unwavering red stare.
"[color=267FD3]Our dreams have brought us here, and now our thoughts will guide us onwards. Have you no faith?[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]In the voices I hear in my head? What sort of question is [i]that?[/i][/color]"
Zephyrus shook his head. How disappointing. 
"[color=267FD3]You must learn to trust, Archer. The river does not ask why it must meet the ocean, it knows only that it must.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Yeah? If water’s so smart, why’s it let me drink it?[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Milk, that’s the liquid to learn from. Curdles at the first sign of trouble.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Your heroism is met only by your valour,[/color]" Zephyrus chastised, sardonically but nonetheless in his usual, unwavering tone.
"[color=FF5733]Hey, I never signed up to be a [i]hero,[/i] okay? Is this what heroes do?[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Heed the call?[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]No. Do whatever the voices in their heads tell them to. Do you do everything the voices in your head tell you to do?[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]I don’t often have voices in my head, Archer.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]… huh.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Do y—[/color]"
"[color=FF5733][i]No.[/i] What? No. Shut up. What? Let’s just get this over with.[/color]"

Zephyrus stared down at him in silence for a few moments. Archer looked back defiantly, although with a height disadvantage it did nothing but confirm to Zephyrus that he was, in fact, a petulant child.
"[color=267FD3]Contain your enthusiasm,[/color]" the elder brother murmured, before they continued on their path.
Soon they breached the membrane of the festival, and filtered out towards the quieter corner of town. Cuccos crowed restlessly from their pens, away from the noise of the fete. They had the right idea, thought Archer: he was considering screaming, too.

"[color=FF5733]It’s [i]dead[/i] over here,[/color]" he noted, aloud.
"[color=267FD3]Everybody is involved with the festival.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]That’s right, there [i]is[/i] a festival going on today! In fact, you should be going and saying hello to… what’s his name… Halibut, shouldn’t you?[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Halberd? You loathe Halberd.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]What? No! I just [i]love[/i] his… speeches? Is that what he does? I feel like that’s what he does.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Last we spoke of him, you called him a pontificating dunce.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]I said ‘pompous asshole’, and that was before I learned to appreciate his… again, is it speeches? You’ve gotta give me something to work with, here. Something with swords? Is he the mayor?[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]You don’t know who [i]governs[/i] Castle Town?[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]I… yes. Of course I do.[/color]"
Zephyrus quirked a sceptical brow.
"[color=FF5733]It’s, you know… somebody else. Not Halberd. Or it is Halberd? Please emote [i]once,[/i] you’re giving me nothing here.[/color]"
Zephyrus sighed heavily, and creased his brow. Momentarily, he cast his eyes skyward. 
"[color=267FD3]I know they chose you, but I can’t imagine why.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Right? Me neither! I’ll just get out of your hair.[/color]"

Archer turned to make a hasty retreat, took three steps South, then realised that Zephyrus had him firmly by the collar.
"[color=267FD3]You cannot leave now: fate has cast the die.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]I cheat [i]every[/i] time I gamble.[/color]"
Zephyrus tightened his grip. Archer smiled sheepishly at him from over his shoulder.
"[color=FF5733]Which is… never?[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Come on,[/color]" Zephyrus tugged him back towards their destination. 

Although Archer lagged greatly behind, they eventually found the path they sought. A stretch overlooked by ledges, a ribbed valley that ought to have funneled the town’s racket. Instead, it was quiet, and still. 
Archer didn’t like it at all: "[color=FF5733]This is a great plan. One of your best.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Why do I get the feeling that was insincere?[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Well, I said it with scorn and derision, so.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Ah. Naturally.[/color]"
Zephyrus laid his foot over the line, and then- too close now to surrender- the two pushed onwards. 

[indent][hider=Theme][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CLT4Lsp6eHc[/youtube][/hider]
[Introducing one of the DM's official NPCs!]
[i]A shuffling sound then drew attention to a somebody atop the rocky cliff face that made up the shallow chasm of the graveyard path. In a blur of signal orange and midnight blue, the person leapt with great dexterity off the edge and into the sunlight. Upon landing on the path just before Archer and Zephyrus, it became immediately obvious that the person before them was a shiekah. 

The shiekah wore standard black and blue shiekah armor-- unremarkable, but practical nonetheless. A long signal orange scarf, wrapped around their head and pinned at the shoulders, spilled behind them almost like a tail as they landed with barely a sound. Bandages engulfed the stranger’s forearms and hands and a pair of intricate twin blades, one noticeably larger than the other, gleamed at the men from the stranger’s back as s/he faced the other direction. For a moment it almost seemed as though the brothers had gone unnoticed, but such speculations were soon dashed as he—or she-- turned to face them. 

Beneath the scarf, bandages could also be seen wrapped around the forehead and crossing over the right eye. The left eye, bright red with long lashes, stared placidly. A black mask completely covered the rest of the strangers face from the bridge of their nose down. The Eye of Truth in red marked their leather breastplate-- eery as ever. It was nigh impossible to determine whether the shiekah was male or female. Their frame was very lean and muscular with legs that seemed to better resemble bamboo poles than human appendages. From what little skin could be seen, they seemed almost sickly fair. Nonetheless, the shiekah seemed to demonstrate strength as they stood there openly, rigid as a tombstone with head held high—taking in the appearance of the pair. 

The eye widened with recognition and the shiekah seemed to motion towards the graveyard by looking ahead and looking back. Without a word, they turned once more and took off down the path, crouched and wary—running beneath the shadow of the cliff face beside them.[/i][/indent]

As they made their retreat, they left the brothers in total, unerring silence.
Archer watched their feats in awe, jaw ajar, eyes narrowed at the retreating outline of their mute, beckoning guide. Zephyrus, stolid, frowned thoughtfully, thin lips pressed into a narrow line. 
"[color=267FD3]I am beginning to empathise with your hesitance, Archer. [i]That,[/i] was a bad omen indeed.[/color]"
Archer, star struck, didn’t respond, not until Zephyrus clasped his shoulder, and motioned for him to keep walking.

"[color=FF5733]I finally figured out why you’re so gung-ho to do this,[/color]" Archer eventually mustered, as his rigid form bent to Zephyrus’ will, and the two resumed their journey, "[color=FF5733]All Sheikah are insane.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Their name is Griz,[/color]" Zephyrus explained, beginning that familiar ritual in which he totally ignored whatever it was Archer had been saying, "[color=267FD3]And even amongst our kind, they are… anomalous.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Why?[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]They have never spoken a known word to anybody. Even their name is an assumption.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]A mute Sheikah? Goddess, where do I go trade?[/color]"
Zephyrus offered him a look that suggested he’d asked himself the same question, more than a few times. Archer cleared his throat, awkwardly. 
"[color=FF5733]So… what? Why is… Griz… a bad omen?[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]It depends on how inclined you are to believe gossip.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Always and without question.[/color]"

Zephyrus side-eyed Archer skeptically as he spoke on.
"[color=267FD3]We are not so inclined to wild bruits, but what little I have heard from other Sheikah would suggest that Griz is a spirit of vengeance, sworn to silence until they can slay their parents’ killer.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Yikes. Sounds like her life is even more messed up than ours is.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]At least we have each other, brother.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Yeah, you’re right… she [i]still[/i] has it better.[/color]"

The two lapsed into quietness, and Archer watched as Griz moved on. Dazed by the fluidness of their movement. Their grace and poise.
He smiled, nervously. What was this strange heat, rising in his throat? Surely it was no magic of his.
"[color=FF5733]Hey, uh… Zeph?[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Yes?[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]She sure is… lithe, huh? Toned, too.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]I... beg your pardon?[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Griz. She’s… you know. All… fit, and stuff. And narrow.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]It is [i]expected[/i] of Sheikah to be fit,”[/color] he explained, missing the point in a way only Zephyrus seemed to be able to, "[color=267FD3]All of us are in the peak of physical health. Even our elders treat their bodies like temp-[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Not like [i]that,[/i][/color]" Archer hissed, and motioned for Zephyrus to lower his already rather quiet voice.
"[color=267FD3]Oh? Oh. [i]Oh dear.[/i][/color]"

Zephyrus took a moment to look from Griz, to Archer, and then back again.
"[color=267FD3]You have a very… peculiar type, Archer.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]What?[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Griz is hardly a conventional target, is all I mean to imply.[/color]"
"[color=FF5733]Target? I’m not [i]hunting[/i] her… y’know, yet.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Your charm truly is fathers.[/color]" 
"[color=FF5733]Worked on [i]our[/i] moms.[/color]"
"[color=267FD3]Unfortunately.[/color]"
A pause. Awkward, unnatural. 
"[color=FF5733]… what?[/color]"
“[color=267FD3]What?[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]You’re being weird. Weirder than usual.[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]I haven’t the slightest idea what you could be implying, brother.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]What are you hiding? Is she a black widow, is that it? Am I going to die on our third date?[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]Are you already thinking that far ahead?[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]As we’ve established, I’m [i]very[/i] charming-- and don’t change the subject.[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]I assure you, I know nothing of Griz being a ‘black widow’.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]Then what?[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]It’s just that… hm. Well. Nobody is entirely sure whether Griz is…[/color]” 
“[color=FF5733]Into puckish rogues who can perform neat magic tricks on a whim?[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]A woman.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]What? No, [i]me.”[/i][/color]
“[color=267FD3]No, nobody is sure if [i]Griz[/i] is a woman. Their features are rather perfectly androgynous.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]I’m pretty sure you made that word up.[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]They’re not indicative of gender.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]But her legs—[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]Like bean poles.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]Her figure…[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]Without a curve.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]… this adventure is going to suck.[/color]”

Zephyrus tilted his head to the one side, an indicator that he was inclined to agree, now. 
“[color=267FD3]Of course, Griz might not be as interested in you, regardless.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]What? What are you talkin’ about? I’m a [i]catch.”[/i][/color]
“[color=267FD3]You are an undisciplined child.[/color]"
“[color=FF5733]A free spirit, one of my many desirable features.[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]And it is not… conventional, that Sheikah should seek companionship outside of our own kind, either.[/color]"
“[color=FF5733]But dad—[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]Was an honourless scoundrel. Perhaps that might be a point in your favour.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]So I guess he wasn’t [i]all[/i] bad. But what you’re sayin’ is that it’s rare?[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]Exceedingly.[/color]”

“[color=FF5733]So what you [i]mean[/i] is…[/color]” Archer trailed off, as- still walking- he turned away to think aloud, “[color=FF5733]I’ve got a [i]chance.”[/i][/color]
“[color=267FD3]I wonder, do you listen to me at all when you set your mind to things like this?[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]I should take the plunge, I’m still willin’ to put my money on her bein’ a girl![/color]”
“[color=267FD3]Archer, father was a Goron.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]And I’m fit, y’know? I’m good looking…[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]He sold magical utensils to dogs. They were very grateful.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]Y’know what? I’m going to do it, I’m goin’ to talk to her.[/color]” 
“[color=267FD3]He was a travelling eunuch, we are miracle children.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]Good talk, Zeph – I think I’m gonna go for it![/color]”
Miracle children or not, Zephyrus thought sometimes that he had a saint’s patience. Who else would put up with Archer for so long? Certainly, he imagined, not Griz.

A short walk later, Griz led them straight and true to the graveyard, a place which seemed to ring with the threnody of total silence. A place where even the dead were known to mourn. 
In a more literal sense today, perhaps: Zephyrus made note of a lantern’s presence as they entered. A Poe, at this time. Whatever had the Goddesses in store for them?
Griz separated from the Anders brothers the moment they passed the cemetery threshold, breaking off in order to stand sentinel by the gates. Zephyrus, head high, made for the graveyard’s centre: Archer lagged behind, walking backwards so as not to break line of sight with Griz.
“[color=FF5733]I bet they’re [i]really[/i] pretty under that mask.[/color]"
“[color=267FD3]I struggle to discern, sometimes, whether that assumption makes you more or less shallow.[/color]”
“[color=FF5733]Oh, definitely more shallow. I’m thinking, like… 11/10.[/color]”
“[color=267FD3]You are a joy.[/color]”

Zephyrus watched disapprovingly as Archer broke off, and made his way, without poise or style, to Griz’ side.
“[color=FF5733]Tell me you drink wine.[/color]”