#phyran

[phyran]

CW// pretty graphic violence, lotta blood, lotta fire

The fire crackles quietly as the sun sets. A man nudges the embers with a stick, while his companion fidgets with some device.

"...Hunter?"

The man looks up with a quiet grunt.

"I've a strange question."

"You're full 'o those, Markus."

"Yes, well… what does Death look like to you?"

The man is taken aback. It takes him a moment to respond. "I can't… rightly say, if I'm honest."

Markus nods. "I understand. Not too keen to show you, if I'm honest, but I am curious."

"You've seen 'im?"

"Well, it's not a him, it's… lots of things. Usually birds. Sometimes a man, I think, I'm not sure he's…"

He takes a breath to reorient himself. "When I die, say from a shot, the world just… stops. A moment before the final blow, the bullet hanging in the air. There's always a bird, and it's singing, though the tune escapes me like grasping at a dream. It leads me to the edges of the Hunt, and I just… wake back up in my room."

The two are silent for a while, the dying flickers of the fire the only interruption. The birds have long since nested for the night, and the shambling corpses that dot the Hunt had all been cleared out, or wandered off. Even the wind faded, as if it were listening to Markus' story.

"...Well, Markus, as I say, you are a strange one. Tell you what, if ever anyone manages to take me down, I'll be sure to tell you what I see."

A soft chuckle from both. A somber, somewhat knowing chuckle.

"You'd best. The Hunt is awful lonely without you, Hunter."

"Same goes for you, cat. The world's not got enough of you. Too much evil, and selfish intentions. Not enough people to sit and watch a fire die in peace and quiet, when it doesn't profit them."

Markus scoffs quietly. "Well, I wasn't… always like this. I've done a lot I regret."

"What man hasn't?"

They sit in silence for a moment more.

"You're a good man too, Hunter."

"You always call me that, why? You know my name, it's-"

"It's more proper." Markus says firmly. "…I'm sorry, that was harsh. It feels wrong, every time I try to refer to a Hunter by any other name, I feel… a hitch, in my throat. I don't know how you manage to call me by name without it, but it's… nice."

"Well, I say again, you're odd."

"Makes me interesting."

Another chuckle. In the distance, a furious scream shatters the silence. An Immolator, likely.

"...I'd best be going." The Hunter said, getting to his feet. "Nights out here aren't kind."

"I do think I'll stay a little, honestly. You know the horde tends to avoid me."

"Well, you take care then, Markus. The world needs more like you. Be a shame to lose you."

He shoulders his rifle, and heads off.

"Hunter?"

He stops, looking back. "Yeah?"

"...I'd better see you tomorrow."

"...Wouldn't miss it for the world, friend."

<>

It's quiet in the swamp. It's never quiet, so it's an oddly refreshing change. No gunfire in the air, no screams of the undead or the dying, just… the breeze, and the birds.

Off in the distance, a brief exchange of gunfire, the sounds of a Bounty being claimed. Customary. Oddly comforting, almost. That is the order of things here.

Another burst of gunfire, what sounds like three or four guns. Likely a squabble over something. Some Hunters are vicious.

Markus keeps moving. The Hunt is all he remembers, and he's seen enough Hunters that the vast majority see him as an ally, or at least to be ignored. Still, there are a handful that thirst for more bloodshed than even this hellish career gives.

Hours pass. He's set up shop, same spot as always, against a copse of trees, where plenty can see him. His wares keep many alive, and kill many others. Traps and devices to feed the Hunt.

It's quiet again. Must be a smaller hunt today.

A heavy thump in the trees behind Markus startles him from his sunbathing. A body, the weight of someone exhausted, or dying, or dead.

"Markus…"

A deep groan, a familiar one, but one of deep pain, labored breathing.

"Hunter!"

He's on his feet in a moment, running to help the man from where he'd collapsed.

"Oh Christ, what the fuck happened?!"

The man is drenched in blood. Bloody holes have his torso emptying into the grass.

The Hunter coughs heavily, a spray of red that hangs in the air for a moment. "Got a Bounty. Some others… weren't a fan of that."

"Christ, Hunter, just, just hold still, are they near?"

He holds up his hand, showing a black, swirling mark on his palm, and grins. Teeth stained red. "Nope."

"Damn you, you stubborn bastard." Markus says, tears blurring the gorey sight before him. "Those things are worth dying for?"

"Worth taking a few with me for."

Markus knows there's nothing he can do. Those healing syringes are miracles, but… it was already a miracle the Hunter had come this far, missing so much of his midsection.

"...Markus?"

"Yes?"

"I… I see the bird you were talkin' about."

A full sob rocks Markus' chest.

The Hunter goes on.

"Markus, p… promise me. You'll keep goin'. This place needs… more like you."

He nods. "I will, I promise I will."

"Good… good… I've… done a lot I regret. I hope I've done… enough good."

"You have, Hunter."

"...I hope… I see you tomorrow…"

With that, a single hitched breath passes his lips.

And he's gone.

"...I wouldn't miss it for the world, friend."

He sits like that for a long time. He does eventually lay the body down, but he still doesn't move, not for hours.

A party of three emerges slowly from the trees, their weapons trained on Markus. All they see is him covered in blood, with a dead man soaking the dirt before him.

Markus rises to his feet, his eyes downcast. Facing the men, but not looking at them.

They don't fire. They recognize him, this is Markus, there has to be a misunderstanding, he wouldn't kill a Hunter. Not without reason.

Markus draws a pistol from his vest.

The men tense.

Something… changes, in Markus' stance. A twitch, so slight, before he raises the pistol to his eye level. From inside the barrel, a swell of flame erupts, tracing back down the weapon to his body, and in moments, his black fur is aflame, a roiling inferno hot enough to burn from where they stood.

The men stumble back, one tries to flee. The last thing they ever saw was a pair of eyes opening from within the flames, and a geyser of fire erupting from the barrel of his gun, setting them all ablaze.

Nothing is left.

Many Hunters died that day. Many of them saw a bird, one that led them away from the Hunt, and far away.

But first, they saw a Phoenix.

[roundedears]

I never could have guessed.

{part two.}

I woke up to the smell of something burning.

And horrifying, nearly blood-curdling screams.

I ran into the kitchen, my knife raised, to find the kitchen filling with smoke. I managed to stifle the flames, and stepped out back to address the screams.

The boy had tried to collect eggs… And had failed miserably.

“Down, you bloody poultry!” I yelled, grabbing him by the arm. I pulled him back into the house, wincing as each of the idiotic birds rammed into the two of us. I slammed the door, and leaned against it as the last few thumps sounded against the wood. The frantic clucking of Cuccos gradually faded, descending to the calm chatter of the now docile birds.

The boy looked on the edge of tears…

I put a hand on his shoulder, wincing at the cuts across the back of my hand. “It’s fine, Mitch. Them birds are dangerous if they aren’t handled right.” I said, my voice soothing. He seemed to relax a little bit, but a tear still slid down his cheek.

“Just… paying… back…” He said slowly, his voice shaking. He seemed to have trouble saying it…

I squeezed his shoulder a bit. “Don’t worry about it, son. I’ll make breakfast, and we’ll head into town in a bit.”

He nodded, and followed me into the kitchen.

---

“Keep up, then!”

He stumbled to keep up, carrying probably far more of my bags then he could handle. At his own insistence, of course; I would have easily brought it all myself.

I made him wear a hood… and some of my old clothes. Anyone who saw him would reach the same conclusion I did. Though… they would likely react a bit more… harshly.

We kept our heads down, and no one really bothered us. Times were peaceful, after the Calamity; aside from random Malice Infection Checks, the chances of getting accosted on the road were slim to none.

As we entered town, I kept ushering the boy along. He was to help me deliver my crops to a buyer, and then I would take him to meet a friend of mine.

Salen, his name was. If it existed, this man knew it or knew who did. He was a goldmine of information on any subject. If anyone knew who this boy was or where he came from, it was Salen.

I looked around briefly, and ducked into a shaded alleyway, beckoning for Mitch to follow. He did so quickly, like an eager dog. He seemed frightened by his surroundings. Though, who wouldn’t be frightened, surrounded by strangers in an unfamiliar town with no common language?

Down at the end of the alley was a small door, our destination. It wasn’t hidden to keep illicit activities from the eyes of the law, as many establishments are; it was hidden to keep this man and all of his contacts safe. There were some… unsavory characters, men and women who preferred to silence Salen before he could give away his coveted knowledge. Some had even tried to take this knowledge for themselves. He knew the inner machinations of every gang and organization this side of Eventide.

I knocked four times on the door and stepped back. There was a muffled cry, and the clatter of a dozen books and scrolls, followed by a loud curse. I couldn’t help but grin.

After another moment, the door opened, revealing a shifty, scrawny man of about 20. His hair was as wiry as his build, and he seemed almost rat-like.

“Phyran?” He said in a hushed voice. “Old friend, what the blazes are you doing here?”

His eyes landed on the boy. “And with a guest? Can he be trusted?”

“Salen, you paranoid bastard, let us in and I’ll explain.” I said with a laugh. “He’s no threat. This boy has a heart of gold.”

Salen glared at him for a few moments, and the boy began shifting uncomfortably.

“Fine.” He said, stepping off into the house. “Close and lock the door behind you, and wipe your bloody feet. That alley is full of shit. I don’t want any of it in here.”

I simply removed my boots, as I always did. The boy followed suit with his… whatever those were. Goddesses, his clothing was strange…

We were led into a small study, and the scrawny man placed himself in a cushioned chair behind a desk. “What brings you, old friend?”  He said. “Or rather, what brings your companion?”

“We need some answers.” I said. “But you have to swear that what happens here stays in this room. Am I understood?”

He thought for a moment. One of my complaints to him over the years had been his lack of commitment to one side. If you paid him to keep a secret, he’d keep it until someone paid more to hear it. I’d won his friendship after I stopped a… rather heated dispute between himself and a client.

“I don’t usually keep my silence, Phy. You know this.” He said. “But for a friend, I suppose this secret can’t be bought.”

I took a deep breath. “Mitch? Drop your hood, please.”

He only understood a few words, simply because I’d taught them to him, but he knew what I meant, and pulled back his hood. Salen flushed even whiter, somehow.

“This boy appeared at the edges of my property yesterday.” I said. “He looked in rough shape, and we took him in for the night. Something is clearly going on here.”

“Did you see a portal?” Salen asked quickly, stepping around his desk. “Phyran, did you see anything near him when you found him?”

“I… saw something disappear into the air behind him, yeah.” I said. “Salen, what’s wrong?”

He seemed to think for a moment, and began muttering to himself as he stepped to his bookshelf and began searching through his various scrolls and books. They were cluttered onto the shelves in seemingly no order, yet he walked specifically to one shelf and methodically checked every scripture there.

He pulled one small scroll and unrolled it. His hands normally shook (it was a feature of his nervous nature), but he struggled to keep it still and unroll it. I gently grabbed it and laid it out for him on a desk, and he nodded gratefully.

He scanned the page for a moment, before somehow turning even whiter. He looked up at Mitch.

What came next was the strangest sound I’d ever heard. Salen was speaking that strange language Mitch spoke? The boy seemed relieved that someone spoke his tongue, but I felt mostly uncomfortable being the only one in the room who didn’t understand what was happening.

I did catch one word, from the boy… “Anyim”.

That word again… It sounds like a name… Who the hell is Anyim?...

Salen turned back to me. “You need to keep this boy safe. No one else is to know of his existence, is that clear?”

“Y-yeah, but what’s going on?” I said, my voice shaking a bit. “Salen, I need some answers.”

“This scroll is one of two.” He said, gesturing toward the scripture laid out on his desk. “I never recovered the second. The first tells of another world. One besides our own. It’s a much simpler world, though their technology vastly exceeds our own. The Gerudo have only recently tamed the cold flame, Electricity. The Humans, the inhabitants of this other world, have known its power for nearly a century. They have carriages that need no horses, weapons that do more damage than a bow ever will. They have mastered the skies and the sea in ways we cannot even dream of.”

He put a hand on each of my shoulders, looking me in the eyes. “I’ve tried for years to cut a hole in the barrier… to get to this other world and learn their secrets. Until now, I’d seen no proof that it may even be possible.”

He turned back to the scroll, and read down to the bottom. “And yet… there was another reason I wanted to look into the possibility…”

I glanced at the boy. “You were worried that something would cross over.”

“Close.”

He put a finger at the bottom of the script. “I was worried about this.”

I glanced at the page only for a moment. “Salen, you know I can’t read that…”

He swore under his breath, but nodded.

“This scroll tells of the other world. The second tells how to access it. And worse…”

He looked up at me, and nervously gulped. “The second tells of a way to resurrect the Calamity.”

It was my turn to go white. “But… that’s impossible, He… He was destroyed by the Hylian Champion!”

Salen nodded as he tucked the scroll back into place. “Indeed, it was destroyed. It spent its power in its last, desperate bid to defeat the Last Champion. By all rights, Ganon should be gone for another few centuries, at best.”

He leaned against the shelf with a sigh. “But these scrolls… they were written by the Yiga clan over one hundred years ago, and… they detail how to give the Calamity his full power in a much shorter time. It requires a learned mage, the Goddess’ chosen hero, and the sacrifice of an inhabitant of the Otherworld.”

We both looked at Mitch. The boy was gently poking at some glass instrument on Salen’s desk.

“The scroll goes on to tell that the aura of the Otherworld sacrifice holds tremendous power here.” He went on. “Power to even rival that of an individual entrusted with a shard of the Triforce.”

He put a hand on my shoulder. “Phyran… Mitch was summoned here to be killed. He was brought here to bring back Calamity Ganon.”

{part one}

[roundedears]

I never saw it coming.

{part one.}

It was early. The sky was overcast, and the sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. I was out in the fields, tending to my wheat, when I heard it.

A strange sound... It sounded almost like...

Almost like a Guardian...

But that was impossible. The Guardians had been destroyed after the returned Hylian Champion put an end to that damned Calamity.

Curse the name of Ganon, and all of his ancestors!

I tucked my scythe into my belt and approached the noise. I'd always been far too curious, Elaine had always told me so. But I wasn't about to back away, not after the next sound.

A groan of pain... nay, of agony.

"'Ello there?" I called. "Stranger? Is everything alright?"

A man staggered to his feet, facing away from me. Just before him, something seemed to wink out of existence.

My face whitened, and the tips of my ears twitched as I saw him.

His ears... by Din, his ears!

He looked Hylian... but his ears... they were rounded off, not pointed like ours.

My scythe came out again, with shaking hands.

"Stranger?..." I said cautiously.

He shook his head, as if to clear it, and turned to face me.

His clothing was strange... his tunic was... one solid piece, more like a cloth draped over his upper body, and his trousers had... pockets? And his shoes?! What were those?! They looked like some kind of... pretend leather?

His face was more rounded than most Hylians... something was clearly different, and he was clearly in pain; he was squinting, and had a hand to his forehead. He looked in rough shape...

"Stranger, do you need any help?" I asked, stepping closer to him. "We have a spare bed you can sleep in, and my wife would be more than happy to patch you up."

He stumbled toward me, and I barely caught him before he hit the ground. He was unconscious...

"Elaine!" I called toward the house. "Get the spare bed ready, we have company!"

-<|>-<|>-<|>-

"He's resting." She said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "He should be just fine."

I sighed, and sank into my chair. "You find any injuries on him?"

She shook her head, and squeezed my shoulder gently. "Nothing bad... he seems mostly exhausted. A few bruises and scratches, but nothing serious. Probably a run-in with those blasted Bokoblins..."

I kissed her hand gently. "I'm goin' back into the field. Can you keep an eye on him?"

She kissed my cheek. "Of course, love. I'll holler if he wakes up."

I stood, and hugged her briefly. "Keep him fed, and don't let him leave. I want to know who and what he is. After all, he was on our property.

---

Hours passed, with no word from the man. She gave him water every hour or so, dripping it slowly into his mouth.

I finished up my work, and immediately came to check on him. He hadn't stirred... he was still unconscious.

"He did say something." She said. "I couldn't make much of it. 'Anyim... Gotta get home...' And... he... he said..."

She leaned into my shoulder. "Honey... he said Ganon..."

A cold flush went through my skin.

Ganon...

"Don't worry, love." I said calmly, patting her back. "I'm sure it was a nightmare of his. People have nightmares about that damned creature all the time. Nothing to fear."

"I'm scared..." She whispered. "Phyran, love, what... what if He's back? What if... what if he comes through here? You heard the stories... of what that Malice stuff did..."

I nodded. "Don't be afraid, love. The Champion is helping to clean up that horrid stuff. The Calamity is gone. He's long gone. He ain't coming back to hurt us..."

.....

She'd lost her family to that monster. His Malice corrupted all who came into contact with it. They were possessed... there was no other word for it. They were taken by some deep desire... it stripped them of humanity. They became monsters.

Her parents had been some of the first victims. They had almost brought down their whole village... Torn down each citizen as they passed...

She was there when a spear was put through her father's eye. When her mother's head was removed with an axe... when her brother was struck down by dozens of arrows...

When her family home burned...

.....

We both flinched at the noise from the other room. It was some mix between a yelp of fear and a groan of pain.

When we came in, the man was huddled against the end of the bed, shaking.

"Well hey there." I said quietly, sitting on the end of the bed. "You feeling any better?"

He looked back and forth between us. The man- No. Not a man, only a boy, maybe seventeen. His state had made him look so much older...

The boy gulped, and spoke. His language... it seemed familiar, but I didn't understand it.

I understood the fear in his voice...

"Listen, son, I don't understand you." I said slowly. "You have a name?"

He perked up at the word "name".

"Mitch." He said. This much was easy to understand, but it sounded so... foreign.

"Mitch?" I said, testing the word in my mouth.

He nodded, seeming excited.

"Name?" He said, pointing at me. He pronounced it wrong, like a young child. He didn't seem to know my language any better. At least we had one word in common...

"I'm Phyran." I said slowly. I pointed at my wife. "This is Elaine."

"Fire... ant?..." He muttered. "Phy?" He looked at Elaine. "Lainy?"

I laughed. "That works. Can you tell us how you got here?"

He seemed confused. We really had nothing in common...

I sighed. "We'll go into town in the morning." I told Elaine. "See if anyone understands him. Maybe someone will recognize him."

I put a hand on her shoulder as I stood. "I'm going to bed. You can join me if you're done with him."

She nodded. "I'll try to teach him how to ask for food, at least. Get him something to eat. He looks starved."

I laughed, and kissed her on the cheek. "You're such a mother, 'Lainy'."

---

I laid back on the bed with a sigh, thinking.

This boy... he seemed... otherworldly. Something about him didn't feel like anything familiar.

And that... strange rift behind him, before... something was wrong about this boy.

After a few minutes, Elaine came in, and carefully laid against me. I curled around her, hugging her to my chest with a smile.

"Good night, love..." I muttered, closing my eyes.

"Sleep well." She mumbled back, tucking her face against my chest.

-/|\-/|\-/|\-

"The damn boy simply VANISHED?!"

The small man shrunk back from his master's fury. "M-master... The portal... it opened miles away from where we m-meant it to... The boy is here, within the kingdom, b-but we know not where-"

The hooded man swept up from his throne and approached the window. "Igon... find the boy... before I use YOU as the sacrifice!"

The little man was magically swept up from the floor and tossed into the air, shrieking in fear. "Yes, Master Anyim!" He yelped, scurrying out the door.

The man scowled, looking out over the terrain of Hyrule.

We have all the pieces... We only need the boy of another world... and the chosen hero... and my master can be returned.

His perch was exactly where no one would look; the centerpiece of the kingdom. It wouldn't be the first time evil lurked within the castle walls, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

{part two}