[color=1E90FF][h2]Chapter 2: Night Terrors[/h2][/color]
After much twisting and turning in the blankets, Link managed to doze off. Dozing was an understatement, though. His mouth hung agape and a surprisingly loud snore escaped him with each inhale. An arm hung limply from the side of his bed, almost grazing the floor. His other arm was gripping the soldier’s broadsword to his chest. Luckily, the blade was still sheathed. This was probably the best sleep Link had since he was resurrected- not counting his time in the shrine, of course. Nothing could top a hundred years of intense napping.

To the left of the sleeping knight, blue eyes pierced the dark. A hand obscured by shadow slipped under the curtain and reached for the Sheikah Slate strapped to Link’s belt, which was glowing faintly. The slate was easily removed, almost too easily. The thief indeed was the one skulking with a hood that covered their face. However, in the dark, they- or, he had removed it. Though his face wouldn’t be discernable to anybody who couldn’t see in the dark, it was indeed masculine. Stone-faced, the stranger slipped the slate into his cloak and began to make his escape.

He moved with delicate precision. Each footfall was planned and silent, but most importantly: quick. It was unnatural how one could move such finesse without causing a disturbance. It was a technique the thief had learned several years ago…a skill that combined the art of stealth and a natural gift unique to his people, but it was a skill that was largely forgotten. Not even the loose planks of the wooden floor could stop him.

Link stirred after he felt something brush against the hand that stuck out from the bedframe. Reflexively, he grabbed it. With the curtain in his face, the Hylian wasn’t sure what he was holding, but it felt like an extremely light-weight cloth. He rubbed it between his fingers and palm. Still not fully awake, he opened the privacy-curtain rather noisily and popped his head out to get a gander at what it was. His eyes weren’t adjusted to the gloom and all he saw were splotches of darkness, but his grip on the fabric tightened.

Meanwhile, the thief noticed a slight tug on his cloak. It was subtle, but he felt the resistance against his neck. Then, he stiffened as he heard the scraping of metal. The slumbering hero was finally awake. He had never felt so frustrated, not in a long time. The thief swallowed his urge to scream and throttle the Hylian. Instead, he untied the cloak and let it fall to the floor. Though doing this would compromise his position, he knew Link’s eyes would be drawn to the motion instead of him. 

The fabric fluttered to the ground. As predicted, Link’s focus snapped to the falling cloak. He stood up, one hand still gripping the cloth. He yanked it to him, eyes narrowing to examine what he’d just grabbed. Ah, this was indeed a cloak, Link was sure of it. He was also sure that cloaks did not mysteriously fall to the ground for no particular reason in the dead of night. How perplexing… His free hand went for the broadsword on his bed.

Sword in hand, Link dropped the cloak and began to tiptoe passed the bed frame. His stealthiness was nothing compared to the thief’s. The floorboards creaked, and he breathed ever so slightly out of his mouth. Though he could detect motion with his eyes, the inky blackness of the night kept him from making out his immediate surroundings. Ugh- He let out a grunt as he walked face first into a wooden post. His nose scrunched up against the wood, making him draw away quickly. His hands instinctively went to cover his schnozz, which now stung.

The thief, who was behind the post, was ready and poised to strike. However, a hollow thunk from the other side made him tense. He craned his neck to check the other side, and quizzically observed the Hylian hero. He noticed Link’s eyes were jammed shut. Ah, the idiot knocked himself into the post. Seizing the opportunity, and not bothering to stay stealthy, he bolted towards the exit on his left. Link’s ears twitched at the sound of footsteps, but his eyes were watering so much he couldn’t open them. Damn! The rustling of heavy fabric told him that the bastard had disappeared outside.

It was while pulling on his shoes did Link notice the sudden disappearance of the Sheikah slate. He made a funny wheezing noise and looked through the bedsheets to see if it fell off his belt. Of course, he knew the stable kook had stolen it, but he wanted to make sure. No longer feeling drowsy from waking up in the middle of the night, Link bolted towards the stable’s exit. He raised his hands, throwing the heavy canvas out of his way.

It was still dark outside, but his eyes were already adjusted to the gloom. What surprised him the most was the cold prickle of raindrops landing on his skin. The Hylian cursed under his breath, knowing an impending storm put him on a timer for tracking the freak that stole his garbage. Even worse, he felt cold already. Shivering slightly, Link scanned the area, not seeing a trace of the thief. All he could see amidst the night were tall, gnarled trees in the distance and the bases of the mountains. It was peaceful- and quiet. It seemed the oncoming rain shut up most creatures aside from a few frogs. 

The scene was broken by the not-so-distant, startled cries of horses. The unfamiliar sound scared Link and he grabbed his sword. He began to stalk his way closer to the disturbance, feeling quite startled himself. The pounding of hooves against dirt alerted him to a terrifyingly perplexing sight. Horses (he thought they were horses) were streaming in all directions, letting out sharp cries and rearing their large heads. Link couldn't explain why, but he knew they were scared and not aggressive. He strained his eyes and ears to try and figure out what disturbed them.

Between crumbling stone brick and tall grass that could reach up to Link’s chest, he saw what he assumed to be the thieving bastard. His appearance had changed. Since the cloak was gone, the Hylian could see a mop of long, white hair tied into a bun. As the stranger leapt over a section of the wall, Link caught sight of his face. Unfortunately, a sort of mask obscured his nose and mouth. All that was visible was a piercing blue eye that reminded Link too much of his own. With his enemy now in sight, the hero charged forward with his blade drawn. While he was bringing down his sword with a mighty swing, the Mystery Man turned into a puff of smoke. The smog was thick enough to make Link cough and shut his eyes. He rubbed his face furiously and sputtered.

The smoke faded and Link was able to come back to his senses rather quickly, but not quick enough. He retrieved his weapon from the wet earth and peeked his head over the weathered wall to see...nothing! He was gone. Dumbfounded, he straightened up and scanned the surroundings. He couldn't see very far or hear much because of the rain, which had progressed from a sprinkle to a shower. Damn! He shuddered violently, reminded of just how frigid it was outside. His now waterlogged clothing sucked the warmth out of him, and the stormy weather made him feel stiff. It was time to admit defeat. If he tried to stick it out here in the rain, he'd probably get a cold. The rational part of his brain told him that it was too dangerous to wander about an open field at night during a storm, especially since he saw a crack of lightning light the horizon. Too tired to argue with himself, he retired back to the inside of the tent.

Link had his head buried in a shirt from his pack. He was sitting at the edge of his bed, drying his golden mop with it. He didn’t have a towel, so a dry shirt would have to do. He’d hang it and the rest of his other waterlogged clothes to dry in the morning. As the air chilled his still damp skin, he only felt himself stiffen more. Link, deciding he’d had enough, sank into bed and wrapped himself back into a cocoon of itchy blankets. He felt too sore to be able to fall back asleep, but he needed to warm up before the dull aches grew worse.

At one point, the hylian did drift off, but it wasn’t for long. He was awoken by Tasseren drawing back the canvas openings to the tent. He was sure he was dreaming at one point, but his brain felt so sluggish that he couldn’t recall a single bit of it. Link slid out of bed, rubbing his eyes from the faint sunlight filtering in. He didn’t feel refreshed at all. Regardless, he needed to get going...or at least prepare to. His clothes still needed to dry. He couldn’t go walking around the wilderness in his pajamas! Link picked up the pile of moist clothing and trudged outside, only giving Tasseran a curt nod of acknowledgement when greeted. 

Link chewed on a crisp apple as he hung his clothing to dry on some twine. The sunlight was still weak and the air was humid from the rain, but it would hopefully warm up later. As he was trying to eat, he couldn’t help but replay the disaster that was last night in his head. His brow was scrunched and he had his nose wrinkled. If only he was more vigilant! He had his most prized possession swiped out from under him by some...some guy! Directly across from him was a shrine, its alluring orange glow reflecting from a shallow pond it was settled in. The sight of it made him feel all the more disappointed in himself. Without his slate, he couldn’t open it. Without that stupid slate, he had no answers! 

Link, frustrated, let out a growl and threw the half-eaten apple as far as he could. It soared through the air and landed somewhere behind a fence. Good riddance, he wasn’t hungry anyway… The hylian was then reminded that he was not alone. He wasn’t very used to having other people around yet, and grew anxious when the sound of footsteps from behind reached his ears. Again, he reached for his sword hilt, but remembered he had left it inside. Probably for the better. He didn’t want a repeat of what happened over dinner again. He lowered his hand and turned to see Tasseren- no, wait… Upon closer inspection, he was sure it was his twin. He had never caught his name.

“Nice shot,” the twin remarked under a twitching mustache. Link, unsure of what to say, said nothing in response. The other man went to gather a pitchfork, presumably to give the horses hay. He spoke again as he got to work. “What’s eating at you?”

“I’m lost,” was all Link mumbled. He didn’t want to get into it.

The man scratched his chin and let out a ‘hm’ before piping up again. “Well, I know this area like the back of my hand. Where’re you heading?”

“Kakariko Village.” The tone of Link’s answers were growing ever more duller.

“Follow the north trail to the bridge and keep going. Straight shot, can’t miss it. It’s less than a day’s travel on horseback,” the man advised.

Link so desperately wanted to be polite, but he was tired and wasn’t entirely sure how to be, anyway. He fell silent again. Damn, he probably needed a horse. The ones in the stalls already had loving owners, but he recalled hearing the wild ones were fair game- if you could catch one.

“You know, you’re a weird kid,” the twin commented.

“Thanks,” Link said flatly.

The twin, whose name was Rensa, soon left after pitching the hay to the animals. Link didn’t bother to interact with him more, so he was just fine with the man’s absence. At one point, he had gathered his things from inside and brought them by the cooking pot. For the past few minutes, Link had been ceaselessly rifling through his bag and organizing what he did and didn’t need. He also made a mental list of what he may need to gather before embarking off again. It kept his mind busy. The sun had climbed a decent amount into the sky when the hero finished his self-assigned chore. Currently, he was drawing his thumbnail up and down the teeth of a comb he had recently acquired. 

The comb wasn’t anything special. Like most of his things, he’d found it while raiding a monster encampment. He suspected the bokoblins kept it because it was shiny- they certainly didn’t need it to comb their hair since they were pretty much bald. Poor, ugly bastards. Link dragged the comb through his hair, and it almost immediately got caught on knots and tangles. Perhaps falling asleep with a head of wet hair wasn’t the greatest idea. He didn’t care, though. He tugged the comb free and went back to it. Eventually, with his hair now tamed, Link pulled it back into a low ponytail. It kept the back of his neck from overheating on hot days like today. He was sure the temperature would only rise more by noon. There was barely a cloud in the heavens now. Like his spirits, it seemed they all dissipated.