The Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction ❯ The Desert's Rose ❯ Fira's Stand ( Chapter 4 )

The Desert's Rose

 

Warnings: Slash, violence, angst, cute little kids

Disclaimer: Zelda, Sheik, and the word Sheikah aren't mine. The ideas, plot, and Sheikah culture ARE.

 

Chapter 4
Fira's Stand

 

He was down for a week before Nabooru and Ze'rin allowed him to start working the shop again, and even then, only for a little while at a time. He didn't mind this, as he was glad to be useful at all. The burnt and torn paths of his magic were healing far too slowly, but he was glad about that too. When he was back in the shop, a few customers thanked him personally for his help with the storm. It seemed his added power had prevented more damage than ever before. There was only one broken window in the entire village. Sheik felt proud and bore his pain majestically.

“What about the Shrine of Fira?”

The blonde stepped out of the storeroom to find Ze'rin and a warrior talking at the counter. The man was counting out coins, but neither seemed fully attentive to the task.

“It's a possibility,” Ze'rin murmured, stroking his chin. “But to go there without any magic users at all is nearly suicide.”

“They're the reason for going,” the warrior retorted. “Boh can't survive long with every magic user on their ass. We'll mobilize every warrior in the village if it means getting back our safety.”

Ze'rin sighed gravely and glanced over, acknowledging Sheik's presence. The warrior gave him a blink and nodded a greeting. Sheik returned it. He soon left and Sheik sat down at the counter next to Ze'rin.

“What was that about?” he asked as he counted out the coins Ze'rin didn't bother to look at.

“Boh is surrounded by five shrines,” Ze'rin said idly. “In the past, we made regular pilgrimages to various ones, but… Five years ago, the Desert Prince came and stole the Holy Stones from them. We were able to retrieve the Fira Stone, but the other four are scattered about the desert from the battle.”

Sheik nodded, feeling another stab of hate for Ganondorf.

“Without the Stones, the shrines are too dangerous to be near.” He gave a heavy sigh. “As it is, with only one, there is no balance. Fira attempts to kill any who approach it, but it is more genial than the other four.”

“How would going to the Shrine of Fira help the magic users?”

“All five shrines house a direct portal to the ethereal river.”

Sheik jerked straight and stared at him. “That's suicide!”

“The Stones keeps it controlled, but each shrine is…alive with power.” The old man closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “With the Stone, Fira is marginally safer than the others. It will rather play than kill outright.”

Sheik pulled himself inward, thinking of the possibilities. A direct channel to the ethereal river was a monstrous possibility. No living creature would be able to stand it. They would burn them up completely. But if the Stone gave them even a marginal hold….they could theoretically allow the river to wash over them, cleanse them, and revitalize them in seconds. He wasn't sure anyone could really live through it.

The idea of a pilgrimage to the Shrine of Fira took hold within the village. Soon enough, the Elders agreed to it and preparations were made. There would be a few groups, to keeps enough warriors in the village for marginal protection while the rest protected the mages. Archmage Dae'rin'tul was in the first group and requested Sheik personally escort him. The man was more daunted by the task than surprised, but he agreed to do it. Sheik wasn't fully sure of his skills as a warrior, especially with his energy still returning to him and magical pathways so fully burnt, but he would not dishonor himself in declining. Dae'rin'tul was glad of this and happily slapped the younger man's back with a grin.

The orphans and Roëlni came to see him off with Ze'rin. The children were noticeably distressed and Roëlni simply handed over a basket of food and a kiss on his cheek. Sheik colored some, especially when some of the other men snickered, but accepted it gratefully. Little Kulyne cried loudly as she hugged his leg. She was too young to know what was going on, but she did know it was dangerous and she feared for her new friend. Sheik comforted as best he could and handed the sobbing child to her caretaker.

Tallic had a particularly stubborn look on her face as she regarded Sheik. Her lips pursed and then she demanded to accompany him. Roëlni said no immediately but Sheik took the request under consideration. He had, after all, sworn to make her something more than she was. Tallic had a stubborn spirit that, even after her hardships, hadn't dimmed at all. She would do well as a warrior, if she cared for it. Taking this in mind, Sheik spoke to Roëlni.

"I think it might be a good idea if Tallic came with me," he said, shocking her.

"What are you saying? She's just a child!"

Sheik nodded. "Yes, but think about it. She's never had the chance to watch people, has she? Figure out options she has for her life. Your orphans have the opportunity to see how caretakers work, store owners, that like, but what about warriors? Would any Sheikah warrior take an orphan as apprentice before his own progeny?"

Roëlni didn't look all that convinced but Sheik could see a sudden interest in Tallic's eyes. The girl turned on her caretaker, grabbing Roëlni's hand in her own. "Oh please! Please let me go with him! Blondie's right, I wanna see what the warriors do!"

The young man tactfully ignored the faint glare Roëlni sent his way for inspiring such an idea but finally, she broke down and agreed. Tallic ran home to get a few things and quickly came back, so excited about the whole thing that she forgot to scowl at everyone around her.

Setting off, the large group went off towards the Shrine of Fira. It would take them two days if the weather abided by them. Sheik and Tallic stayed near Dae'rin'tul, more for talk than anything else. Old as he was, Dae'rin'tul was not weak, even without magic. He had been a magical warrior at one point, Warmage they were called, and age had only taken the color from his hair and eyes. The warriors stayed mostly in two organized lines on either side of the main group with a few leading and flanking to protect them on all sides. Tallic watched them curiously from Sheik's side and a few of them grudgingly spoke to her. Most mages had little in the way of weapons training as it took great dedication and time to gain their magicks, so they stayed huddled between the warrior lines. Dae'rin'tul called them 'soft and lazy' more than a few times, but they only smiled embarrassedly at the 'old codger'.

They stopped for the night and made camp, building up a good fire. Sheik sat with Dae'rin'tul and watched as the men started up some very rude songs that made the few women along blush and giggle. Some even joined in on it. Tallic curled up by Dae'rin'tul in Sheik's bedroll. The journey had tired her quickly and she slept deeply. Sheik stayed up with the first shift of warriors, then bedded down with the Archmage for the second. The second day's travel seemed to go far more quickly. The warriors had loosened up some and started singing as they marched while the mages talked among themselves. Sheik himself merely listened and input very little, but Tallic was a whirlwind of activity. The child ran between mages and warriors alike, questioning and annoying them or joining in the songs.

It was near dusk when they came upon a small, unadorned structure. Too small to be a shrine or even a house, more of a hut than anything, covered in crackled plaster the color of sand. Only a beat up wooden door decorated it. Dae'rin'tul seemed happy to see it, however, so Sheik figured at first that it was some kind of check point. Then, the caravan stopped and mages disembarked from their transports. Sheik followed the Archmage towards the structure and then stopped dead after Dae'rin'tul opened the door. There was a rush of...something. Something alive and conscious, ancient. A set of downward stairs stood before them and cool air wafted upward. Sheik couldn't help the shiver that went down his spine.

"Single file," the Archmage murmured as a warrior stepped around him to take point. Then he went and Sheik followed with Tallic right behind him. The air was wet, wetter than it should have been in a temple dedicated to fire, but then he noted something else. A scent in the air, nothing like water or rain. Oil, he realized after a moment. The smell of oil saturated everything, even the chokingly wet air. The stairs took them far underground and it grew warmer with every step. Eventually, the wet taste in the air was gone and replaced only by dryness and more oil scent.

The stair ended in a wide chamber. Half the warriors crowded it, eyes pealed for any sort of mischief. Dae'rin'tul rolled his eyes at their care and headed up to the doorway that stood barred before them. He studied it a bit, then searched within his robes for something. Sheik edged a little closer, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand. Something was watching them. Something alive and old and hungry...

The Archmage finally produced a small flute and put it to his lips. To Sheik's surprise, he played out notes that were rather familiar to him. The Bolero of Fire brought back memories he didn't want to deal with just yet. He could feel the strange urgency of the melody as it washed over him, awakening battle lust within his heart. He wasn't the only one either. The other warriors all looked suddenly energized and it was a good thing. As soon as the song came to a close, the door opened and they were suddenly swarmed by fire keese. There was a sudden flare of movement as arrows and swords alike battled the burning bats. Sheik stayed back with the mages and fought off creatures that got near, shielding Tallic as best he could. The child surprised him by not running into a battle she couldn't help with and heeding his words when he told her to duck down with the others. Soon, the ground was littered with the small bodies but no one was too seriously hurt. There were a few burns, a few bites, but dabs of healing salve would help that and, if they managed, healing energy as well.

"Well, this has certainly been exciting," the Archmage murmured after a bit. There were a few uneasy grins and more grimaces. Sheik frowned a bit.

"Archmage," he murmured, "It would be safer to take a group and scout ahead. If this temple is any like those I've been in before, there will be mazes and puzzles to figure through, likely more monsters to battle."

Dae'rin'tul nodded a bit. "That's true. Take five with you then, lad. The rest of us will set up a camp here and wait for your return."

A few of the older warriors looked a little grumpy with the idea of being led by the young halfbreed, but Sheik ignored it. He chose five that looked strong and skilled enough and weren't glaring too hard, but he also intentionally made sure two of the five had a first mage ring. They were magic burnt as well, but who knew what skills they might need once they found the river.. They needed unity to get through this without too many injuries. Tallic fought with him but finally agreed to stay back when he asked her specifically to watch the Archmage. The warriors loaded up with supplies, then headed in with Sheik at the lead.

Monsters came at random, mostly fire keese and a few red tektites. Sheik found it a little odd that the tektites consent to being underground, but who could really understand the mind of a monster anyway? Still, he kept on guard for any other oddities. One man mapped the way they went on a bit of parchment. The place was as much of a maze as Sheik had feared and they jotted down instructions to the puzzles they encountered, just in case the shrine decided to reset them. When they continued to meet only the easy monsters, the group of warriors found themselves growing uneasy.

"She's up to something," one grim man said, looking into shadowy corners with suspicion. Others muttered their agreement. Things were too quiet. Too easy. The shrine was trying to lure them into a sense of security.

Sheik's own feelings mirrored theirs. He called for a rest in one of the smaller chambers after they'd cleared it of monsters. Drinking from his canteen, he tried to feel out the rooms around them but his magicks refused to come to his call, still too burnt out. He hated the blind feeling it gave him, how helpless the sandstorm had left him.

“What was that?” one of the warriors said suddenly, his voice spooked. Sheik got up, sword in hand and listened. There were skittering noises all around them, tiny claws along the walls. At first, he thought they might be restless keese who hadn't been spooked into attack yet but something about it wasn't right. The noises were muffled through the walls, not within the room with them, but there were too many. Keese didn't flock so thickly… The flickering light of torches wasn't making them feel any better about the situation.

“Stay on your toes,” an older man grumbled to the others before looking to Sheik for leadership. Sheik wasn't sure what they would face next, but he had a feeling those tiny claws were an omen of some kind.

“We've rested enough,” Sheik decided grimly. “Lets get going. It's been a few hours since we left the mages, so we'll go back to them.”

The others agreed and they headed out, but there was definite tension within them all now. Every noise, every change of a shadow was now more of a potential enemy, more dangerous. They followed the map but soon found it was for not.

“How the hell did we get lost?!” the mapmaker barked, turning his parchment this way and that as he looked about. They'd found themselves in a hallway with three off shoots and they hadn't encountered it the first time through.

“Fira, that bitch,” the old man growled. “She's playing with us. Changing the rooms.”

Sheik cursed. “Then we have no choice. We have to just go at random and hope we find the river portal.”

Having no other choice, the warriors gave a grumbling agreement. However, they then split up into groups of two with one mage between them. Their magics were useless now, but any one of them might find the river and be revitalized. Sheik and the only man took the central hall while the other four split between the remaining two ways.

“What's your name, kid?” the old man asked, eyes pealed for danger. “I'm Ar'chern.”

“Sheik,” he replied quietly. They met up with a couple more keese then but dispatched them quickly. Sheik couldn't help but admire the confident grace in Ar'chern's fighting. His black hair was graying now but he was still formidable.

“Damn I hate those things,” Ar'chern grumbled. “They smell like shit when they die.”

Sheik smirked a bit. “You're welcome to let them kill you if the smell bothers you so much.”

The old man sent him a dirty look. “None of your wisecracking, whipper. I've been killing this bastards since before you were a speck in your mama's eye.”

The blonde just shook his head a bit, still grinning. Despite the danger, Sheik was starting to relax. Ar'chern didn't put him on edge like most Sheikah did. He didn't seem to care that Sheik was halfblood, or at least was polite enough not to mention it.

“Wait,” Ar'chern murmured, his expression hardening. “Feel that?”

“Yes,” Sheik responded. The air had changed, growing even dryer than before but there was wind now, blowing into their faces and ruffling their hair. “The river?”

“Don't know. I doubt it. I'm not sensing magic. Not that I'm a mage or anything, but a man gets a sense of these types of things…”

Sheik hated when his bad feelings were shared.

They continued on in silence and became more and more bothered when they weren't met by any more of the weak monsters, or anything at all really. Finally, they came upon a set of huge stone doors, inscribed with crumbling designs and lettering. Ar'chern stepped closer, wiping away some dust so he could get a closer look.

“Damn. Ancient,” he grumbled. Sheik came to look but could only decipher one word within the mess of it all.

“Horde?” he murmured. Ar'chern shrugged his shoulders and started examining the symbols and designs. Sheik continued trying to puzzle through the inscription to no avail. And then the doors suddenly opened as Ar'chern found a trigger mechanism. A blast of air nearly hot enough to burn threw Sheik back. He fell hard on his side but got up quickly, sword in hand. Ar'chern was at his side but the two didn't look at each other.

They were too busy staring at the huge black shape that dominated the enormous chamber beyond the doors. At first, it looked solid, then they noticed it was actually made up of thousands of small black animals. They had tiny bodies and huge, batlike wings, then long, hanging arms with wicked claws. Bug like eyes dominated their large heads, half of which were dominated in gaping jaws and needle like teeth. A sudden screech filled the air as they were spotted and the creatures swarmed together like a tornado of ripping claws and gnashing teeth.

“Oh hell,” Ar'chern whispered. “I think we found the Horde.”