Thing I wrote for my friend’s cadence of hyrule oc.
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Lute sprinted down a temple’s stone corridors, arrows landing at his feet, always a second too slow to the beat.
He looked behind him, his sweat-soaked hair matted to his forehead. It was about what he expected--that the hoard of bloodthirsty demons following him had grown in number yet again. They’d entered this temple on behalf of a princess--a simple milk run, just a casual afternoon of slaying a few scattered monsters.
Oh how wrong they were, so terribly terribly wrong.
The floor had collapsed beneath them in the first five minutes, sending them descending down a pit with no certain end. Lute wasn’t sure if the others had landed like he had. He and Wind awoke in what looked like a burial site, hidden deep beneath the temple floors.
Ancient and rundown as the crumbling brick looked, there were no bodies to be found, no tombs to honor. How does a millennia old graveyard, essentially, not have any bodies?
It turns out, to Lute and Wind’s horror, that this temple made very efficient use of their dead.
As security.
Dozens, possibly hundreds, of rotted, half decomposed corpses swarmed them. They bore their teeth like animals, the light in their melted eyes long faded. Fighting as just the two of them would be suicide, running was their only viable option.
Panic sounded in his heart, a pounding alarm telling him he was going to die here, that he would never see his siblings again.
He ignored it, like he always did. He didn’t have the luxury of dying, not when people needed him back home.
Lute continued his dash, skipping from cracked stone to stone, the faint glow of the torches guiding his path. It was taking all of his energy to keep pace with his curse’s current tempo.
He was wandering without direction, the layout of this accursed place a mystery. He’d lost Wind hours ago, having been split up by a surprise ambush of another undead horde. It’d almost resulted in his end, he could still feel the iron grip of a knight’s putrid hands around his collar; how it nearly dragged his struggling, squirming face into its maw of sharded bone.
He survived, of course, he always did.
Always.
Lute focused on the path ahead, his heart plummeting when the sight of a complete dead-end filled his view. Tears welled in his eyes, and volcanic anger swallowed his tongue.
“Not like this, not like this.” Lute said, fuming through gritted teeth.
He was almost at the end now. He focused on the beat of the music, trying to distract himself from the torrent of emotions.
Lute thought of his brothers, how they would survive.
If Time was here; He’d collapse the hoard onto itself, cutting a path to safety by the swing of his claymore.
Four had the colors to rely on, quadrupling his chances of survival.
Legend and Traveler had their magic and items.
And what did Lute have? A few weapons-in-one and a curse.
“HEY, HEEY, LUTE OVER HERE.”
Lute craned his head towards the voice in the darkness, coming from the opposite end of the hallway.
It was Wind, and Sky and Twilight were with him.
Oh thank the goddesses. He might survive this after all.
Lute hit the wall, ice-cold fear surging in his veins.
No matter how fast his brothers were, they couldn’t stop the monsters from devouring him whole.
He was going to have to make his own salvation.
Lute bobbed unsteadily, watching the flood of monsters rush closer. He closed his eyes, leaping forward onto the crowd as the curse’s music hit a crescendo. Lute winced, preparing for the worst--instead finding his boot standing flat on the skull of an undead.
Mentally, he sighed in relief.
From head-to-head, Lute dashed across the monsters that’d given him so much grief, slashing down at their grabbing hands and reaching mouths. He flowed above the crowd in a single, continuous motion, faster than the stride of any giant.
Agility was his to claim, and his to rule. There was nothing that could touch him, not in this moment of burning spontaneity. The fear that'd so terrified him fled from the light of his courage.
He skipped over the last meter of undead, making the process of crowd surfing look as easy as hopscotch. Wind and the others were only a few feet away.
Lute coiled his legs, unfurling them to initiate himself into an aerial roll, somersaulting over and across his projected path.
Wind turned to him with a grin.
“I knew you were gonna be fine, and these guys doubted me.” Wind boasted.
Sky shook his head, beginning his assault as the master sword tore into the skull of his first, unlucky opponent.
“To be fair--I thought he was being chased down by the minotaur.” Sky said.
Twilight chimed in, “Or the hell harpies,” as he too began to tear into the undead.
“The What?” Lute laughed.
“We’ve had a uh..we’ve had a day.” Sky said.
“Understatement of the century there.” Twilight added.
“I’m just glad to see you’re safe. You don’t look too hurt. Are you still good to fight?” Wind asked
“Always.”
