This is just a blatant cope-writing about what it means to be an adult. Please read & review if you'd like to encourage me to write some more.

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Character Death, Referenced Child Abuse, Referenced Torture, Fantastic Racism.

Additional tags: No Romance, Friends to Enemies, Coming of Age, Memory Loss.

'Unmade'

by PinkROmantic

Chapter I. Unbroken.

Blood poured down from her face and it wouldn't stop throbbing all around that new empty space, her bruised fingers trembled too much to cover the wound as her high-pitched voice tore through the silence. The room was filled with the scent of iron and burnt candles, red feet backed away all around her, she could feel their frightened or satisfied stares pinning on her.

"You should be thankful, I didn't pluck your good eye out."

The sinister cold voice of the Mistress ringing still in her ears, feather-light feet dragged close to the girl that writhed in pain, the woman's presence was like an oppressive warmth that devoured all noise and exuded death, like a ruthless lioness cornering a prey.

It all happened too fast. One second she was about to kneel for forgiveness, and to the next, long nails have ripped something from her face. Now she was struggling to breathe, to see, to comprehend, the world was spinning violently around her in the colors of ire and despair. She felt so nauseous, like she'd just throw up in the spot, the loss of blood and balance was quickly takings its toll on her.

"So? Are you all just gonna stand there or is anyone going to patch up dear little Sheik?" said the Mistress with the most mocking voice she could muster.

Somebody obviously hurried to drag her up, no gentleness was given as it wasn't required, her body, though smaller than most, somehow felt so heavy when lifted. Her hands were held and someone wrapped a thick cloth around her head to stop the bleeding. 'Deep breaths, deep breaths' was all that she could remember to endure the pain in cases like this, but she felt like she'd give in to the darkness any time

"In case that you have all forgotten, I'm less forgiving about mistakes than any of my ancestors. Stay in your lane as you are and we'll be spared of unnecessary drama... like this one." She hated how the Mistress spoke, how righteous and convinced she sounded every time she had all of them reunited in this room. And worst of all, she hated how the words worked anyway, how they encouraged them to act and become like her out of fear more than anything. "I should hope that next time any of you make a mistake like that, you are ready to lose another piece of your face, have I made myself clear?"

She didn't get to hear the rest of it, she passed out before being taken to the chambers.

His town started to call him a Hero when he first killed a man. He was only a child back then, and it was mostly by accident, the man just happened to be extremely dangerous and he happened to be wielding a very sharp pitchfork. But killing a bad man was all what it took for the his town to begin treating him differently.

The town of New Akkala was one of the smallest in the region, and it was still growing. After 'saving' them from that bandit, his father begun to take him on bigger hunt trips and patrols to have him prove his worth. It helped him to sharpen his aptitude with the bow, but he was eventually forced to learn how to wield a sword and a shield when lizalfos and bokoblins started to show up more on the western hills during times of harvest to assault and terrorize farmers. Hunt after hunt, everyone praised him and even when he didn't get to do as good as others, he was encouraged anyway.

One time when he was fourteen he managed to ambush and terminate an group of 10 invader bokoblins all by himself through explosives because he had to split from his friends that day. He suffered a concussion and burns after the attack, but people liked to omit that part when the story was retold every time.

By the time that he reached his twenties, he was a modestly renowned swordsman, a role model for the youth, a proud protector to New Akkala, worthy of the name Link. And it wasn't like 'Link' was an uncommon name, quite the opposite, as many people commemorated the Hero of Legend and liked to name their sons and daughters after him. For him those were some large boots to fill in, as his father was thoroughly convinced that he had to be the reincarnated Hero in the flesh.

"Son, there's no shame in what you are. You do everything you do in the name of all that is good, isn't that right?", his mother would tell him, knowing all too well how this business would weigh on him, in contrast with how his father would press him harder every time. He didn't really resent his father for this, he owed him for the fruits of his work, but after a long time, Link realized how little his father truly listened to him.

"He's just really hopeful, you see. Your father always had the illusion of living long enough to see the Hero of Legend rise again... I know he's projecting a little too much, but let him find comfort in seeing you get the glory he thinks you deserve" she would say, and Link understood. Didn't make the name any lighter, but he understood perfectly what it meant for his father. Everyone knew the tales, and young kids learned to want to be the Hero...nor him nor his father were the exception.

But with such grand dreams came also great disillusions.

He had been called a Hero, he saved people from dangers by killing things... so why didn't he feel like one?

People could be scholars, farmers, merchants, artists, scientists... but he was really just good at killing things. Being a Hero had to be more than that, right?

Sure, he managed to rid of monsters threatening the locals, and several times he's gotten hurt to protect people. But so did the other knights who joined him to fight. As strong as he was, he didn't do anything near as legendary or heroic like saving an entire kingdom from the clutches of evil. And deep inside, he knew that he wouldn't hesitate to jump into the task if the chance ever arose.

It was an itching he had for years, the feeling of emptiness, the lack of purpose that weighed on him as he realized how long he's waited for it to happen, as if the anticipation for cataclysm was a sort of second nature etched into him from birth. It wasn't as if he wanted something bad to happen, but for some reason he's always felt ready for that call.

He yearned for a familiar voice to call at him, to greet him like an old friend. There was a person that he's been waiting to meet, a person who'd give him a reason.

He may be the Hero, but if that was true, then where was the Princess?

Hyrule hadn't a monarchy for over 200 years. There was no need for princesses anymore. There was no need for a chosen hero anymore.

Wasn't that for the best?

Perhaps it was merely dumb luck, or maybe he became good, but fighting off those lizalfos thieves with what little he knew of magic proved to be useful. Granted, it only helped him to amplify his moving speed at the right time, so it took the reptile-like outlaws by surprise, striking them down with the dull-edged sword he carried. He successfully scared the rest of them away from his fellow merchant Beedle and the nameless musician that traveled close to them.

The good-natured Beedle was relieved and equally impressed "Never seen that kind of magic before, Garson, that was nuts!" but the younger merchant shrugged it off, insisting that he wasn't THAT great at magic anyway. He learned a few things before dropping out of college anyway, so he was glad that the magic could be worked around his own skills.

However, Beedle was right about never seeing this sort of enchantment. Common folk knew little about magic and what arts were taught normally, but it was expected that one could simply sense when dark arts were at play. The musician who didn't say anything after the altercation probably knew, but Garson decided to pay no mind.

"You shouldn't be using that sort of power to carelessly." said the musician with a cool voice. Garson sighed, trying to conceal his annoyance, just last night the musician was friendly enough to ask him about the merchant guild and who would be selling in New Akkala. "You could easily hurt yourself and others with that."

His past mentor scrutinized him about his interest in obscure magic, which was honestly fair given its unsavory history, but he knew that it had its vantages when used correctly. Of course, he later was questioned about his aptitude for magic and eventually felt so discouraged that he decided to return home... with a few mementos from college.

After learning as much as he could, he decided that it was time to develop his more natural talents and became a traveling merchant just like his uncle did. It's true that the job was fulfilling, but the true reason why he decided to do it was because he got to travel across the kingdom and learn many things. Even if he was admittedly more of a brawn than a brain, he still enjoyed new knowledge. In the past couple of years as a traveling merchant he learned more than he did in the three years spent at Hyrule's castletown.

When he arrived to New Akkala, he was taken aback with how big and pretty it got from the last time he visited since he was a child. The safety also seemed significantly improved, given the Harvest Festival ready to take place. The Hero's statue at the central square also looked restored, even more impressive than the one at Hyrule Castle. It wasn't that strange that people worshiped the legendary Hero, almost every town had a statue for him.

He didn't ponder too much on that when he started to present his goods on the market place, sitting down behind the mat where he put his merchandise. Even though he wouldn't stand out too much between the other sellers it always put a grin on his face when curious people asked him about the unusual wares.

Sometimes people were surprised to find out that most of the articles he sold were crafted by the moblin and bokoblin, it awakened a morbid curiosity that just compelled them to buy them. It wasn't correct to profit from people's morbidity towards those they considered monsters, but he needed to get that sweet revenue from somewhere.

After selling out most of his moblin-made cutlery, it came to his attention that a young man had been staring at his wares for quite a while, as if he was judging every single object on display with knowing eyes.

"Is there anything you'd like?" he asked politely. Striking blue eyes looked back at him with a little of embarrassment and quickly shook his head.

The man looked about his same age, if not younger. He was carrying a large bag already packed with vegetables and the sort, and behind his back there was a large wooden shield with a protruding sword hilt behind his shoulder. A guardian knight, maybe?

"Was it hard to get all this? It's all 'blin craft." The young knight's voice was a mix between apprehension and concern.

"I assume you've seen these before, right? But don't worry, I didn't have to fight them to get my wares. I travel north Death Mountain, where they are open to trade." he said with his classic matter-of-fact mug, but the other just furrowed his brow in doubt. Typical.

"...You don't believe me, do you? I admit that it's a little hard, even risky at times to thread there, but some factions of them are actually pretty civil... specially to those who wear the merchant's guild badge."

"I suppose..."

"So, if you're still interested..." the young merchant shrugged, but the knight shook his head.

"No, I don't want to bother you anymore, sorry."

The blue eyed knight turned and walked away, not without glancing back with a pensive look.

The merchant sighed. That was awkward.

It was midday and he remembered that he needed to book himself at an inn. He didn't want to close early today, but if he didn't hurry up, he'd be forced to sleep outside, again.

Besides... there was something he wanted to check before night, as his gut wouldn't stop bugging him about it.

He looked again at the Hero's statue. It was funny. Upon closer examination, it looked a lot like that knight guy.

The flutist started its cheerful song and kids around the market seemed to come closer, especially the younger ones, all drawn like moths to a flame. Sheik observed this from afar, as her eyes looked back and forth among stands with so many colorful people. There were people from all ethnicities visiting, from Goron to Zora, Gerudo to Rito, the Harvest Festival in this town was renowned for celebrating bigger than most towns, except maybe in Hyrule castletown; and because of its historical site, it helped to garner plenty of visitors, traders included.

It was almost soothing to be in such a lively place, if it were not for the fact that she and her partner were unwelcome and on a task at hand. Speaking of whom, it seemed like she couldn't keep still for more than a minute; it was beginning to get annoying.

"What's on your mind? You've been pacing too much" Sheik muttered.

"We're running out of time and it'll be nightfall before we know it. Where's that damn merchant? Laeg told us that he was going to be here today." Ashei, Sheik's sole companion, had lost what little color she had left in her face, even though she could very well have a steely face, her body language betrayed her so easily.

For their mission, they were meant to get into town to find a certain merchant for a particular object supposedly in his possession... It was in these sort of tasks in which they were made to dress up like civilians to bypass local security, and since it was a festive time, it was more than a perfect opportunity to blend in with the common folk. Ashei was given a white tunic with worn red pants whereas Sheik donned a sky-blue sash over a grey tunic with brown pants, she pulled her white bangs over the left side of her face to cover the obvious eye-patch. No matter where you went, strangers would always stare at one-eyed people, so it was better to keep people's gaze averted elsewhere.

"If you keep showing nervousness you're just going to give yourself away. Perhaps the man is at one of the inns already."

"He better be. Even if we succeed at finding him, Mistress Melana will reprimand us for not reporting back early."

Sheik repressed a chill at the thought, and nodded.

"Right. Then let's split up and meet at the town's main square there within an hour. And Ashei... be careful."

Ashei's shoulders relaxed a little and walked past her partner. "Keep that one eye open."

The young girl got lost in the crowd, and Sheik did the same in the opposite direction.

Being among people without explicitly targeting anyone with a weapon was... strange, almost reassuring. It made the everlasting weight on her shoulders to feel less suffocating, yet that only made her feel even more restless too. These people had no idea that she was one of Hyrule's biggest and constant threats, she and the rest of her allies were perfectly hidden between the unsuspecting crowd.

That was the only reason why she couldn't ditch this mission. Part of Sheik just wished for cry out for help, to just grab Ashei and get her to safety, to just finally... find her way back home.

But it was all wishful thinking. She wouldn't be able to ask for help even if she wanted, not with all that blood that dirtied her hands and would never be able to wash away.

Right now, all she needed to do was to finish this mission with as little casualties as possible and hope that the Mistress didn't feel upset with them.

She checked several Inns, unsurprisingly, most of them were packed, but none so far seemed to have booked or seen the man she was searching. Sheik just hoped that Ashei fared better.

At the last Inn, a modest-looking place, she was fortunate enough to find who seemed to be a merchant (she was able to tell by the sizeable backpacks he carried), a man who was just booking in early for the day.

She put up an innocent act with no effort, tapping gently at his shoulder. He was extremely tall and had deep brown skin with dark hair tied in a small bun, there was something strangely regal about his features.

"Sorry, I was wondering, didn't a mask merchant come to trade in this town?" she asked, trying to not think too much about the guy. His large bushy brows arched at her question.

"Oh... that guy. Yeah. I thought that he'd be selling somewhere in the market, but don't take me too seriously: he seems more like the kind of person who'd be selling in a dark alleyway." he said, his voice was unexpectedly youthful. "You're actually the second person to ask me about him. Is there a theater troupe showing up for the festival?"

"I think so. But I'm just interested in the masks" she lied as she eyed the animal bone sticking out from the merchant's bag. "... May I?"

"Sorry, I was done for today... But, oh well, if you're that interested." the young man shrugged and with the Innkeeper's permission he opened up his bag to show her his wares.

It wasn't like she truly needed to see them or that she had the time, but she already bothered to pickpocket people on her way; it'd be a waste to not buy anything on the go. She was surprised to see how many bone jewelry he had, but that wasn't all.

"This is... a Joy Pendant, right?" The butterfly-looking pendant caught her eye almost immediately, how the bone and precious metal merged beautifully, it was basically a perfect copy of the one she's already seen long before.

The merchant was beaming. "'Tis the real deal. 100% Bokoblin-made."

"Huh... so they are made by them? I've only seen people trying to replicate them, but it was said that real ones can only be found among bokoblins."

The young man grimaced a little. "They use that wording, yes, just to not admit bokoblins are the ones who make them butwhateverGarsonnobodycares..." he grumbled lowly, Sheik didn't quite hear that. "Anyhow, the quality is superb, and I'm pretty sure you won't find anyone else here offering you this in such perfect conditions."

"... How much?"

"It's 150 rupees."

A little expensive for a trinket, but it wasn't like it hurt Sheik to part with that money. She wordlessly paid the exact amount to him and then stored the pendant safely in her pouch. The merchant just quietly thanked her for doing business with him and she bowed her head to him out of courtesy. The merchant just pulled his bag up again and glanced back at the Innkeeper.

"So, can I put my things already in my room? I'll be out until night."

The elder man shrugged uninterested. "Suit yourself, lad."

The merchant just waved at Sheik. "Good afternoon, and thanks."

Sheik had to stop herself from smiling too much, but having such a friendly human interaction with someone outside of the Yiga was such a rare treat, she needed to treasure it for as long as she could.

Evening was soon to come and it'd be time to leave. The dark alleyways were beckoning her and they would make her job infinitely easier now.

She prepared the rope and fastened her hair, keeping her weapons secured in their hidden place; she'd make sure that they'd remain untouched this time.

"Link! Help, Link!" when the knight on duty turned around he met the little daughter of the local judge, sprinting at him with her face red, eyes almost watering. "Help! My little brother and his friends were kidnapped by a weird-looking guy! Please!"

The little girl had good instincts, and he knew better than to dismiss such a heartfelt plea. "Where did they go?"

"The guy was playing a scary melody with the flute! The boys were following him like ducklings!"

"Dana, where did they go?" he repeated louder, just enough to not upset the girl.

The girl pointed southwest, presumably to the crops on the town's outskirts. Link did not waste his time to whistle at his fellow guardsmen and quickly take their steeds to search for the kids and the suspect on the run.

It would make sense if the stranger tried to slip by the crops, people were so busy harvesting to notice visitors, and guards were more focused on protecting the farmers. He never thought that any outsider would notice anything about this issue, but if he learned anything about his years of experience, it was that the Yiga clansmen's intelligence couldn't be underestimated.

And this wasn't the first time they attempted to kidnap children in town. He had known that when he was a little boy that at least five children were taken away to never be heard of again.

He had to push his mare too early, and it was a little dangerous to run in town among too many more people than usual, but it couldn't be helped. The only positive side of this situation was that it wasn't nighttime yet, so escape would be harder for the ruffians.

His squad, led by their elder captain ran around the crop grounds, and they immediately noticed that there was a commotion already, two guards down while several farmers were crying out for help.

His gut had been correct, and on top of that the kidnapper had already been discovered. Good. This would make the ruffian more nervous and likely to commit more mistakes. Help would arrive for the wounded, so there was no time to waste.

On the horizon, where the fields began to stretch before their eyes, a man on a car pulled by horses was on the run, and that's when his captain ordered Link to take aim. He was their best archer after all, but Link knew he'd hate himself if he accidentally hit one of the horses. Then again, children's lives were at stake here, he couldn't afford hesitation.

And then, the soil exploded. Several red explosives had gone off almost in the squad's faces, horses panicking and some of them actually knocking their riders off, but not Link or his captain. "Link, we can't stop now, go!"

The fugitive driver was sharp, he turned left towards a steep hill where a large grove started, so it would make it harder for the riders to catch up to him, but Link knew these treacherous paths all too well to be fooled.

His mottled mare Fien, as if driven by a telepathic connection, started to gallop even faster without his master even telling her to, she knew the paths among the trees as well as he did. Before the driver realized, Link was just a few meters close to the car, his bow readied.

When Link got close enough to take a closer look into the car, and he distinguished three children and two young women on the back huddled next to each other, but the ruffian yelled something and darted a knife into Link's direction.

Fool, if he intended to stop him, he could've aimed to his mare. Link reacted with lightning-like speed, used the metallic handle of his bow to deflect the blade, and promptly fired two arrows in succession.

One of them got the kidnapper in the arm and other in the chest. He yelped in pain, but remained steady on his seat, seemingly not fatally wounded yet. Link readied another set...

That's when one of the women inside the car moved, the small woman wearing blue. Before Link could register what was going on, he watched how she pulled a bow of her own and fired at him.

He was foolish to assume the women were also kidnapped.

Link couldn't do as much as to bend his legs as to avoid his feet got caught in the chair's stirrup when he fell down. The impact knocked the air out of him, and his vision blurred around the terrible ache surrounding him as Fien neighed distressed, her legs fidgeted as if she feared accidentally stepping on her master.

His adrenaline-driven brain forced him out of the stupor to get him back up before his captain called out to him. They couldn't stop for his sake, not with the children still in danger. "The children! Save the children!" Link roared in pain.

Two arrows were sticking out of his chest and shoulder, and Link was mildly thankful that he wore a thick chest guard, otherwise the arrows would've definitely pierced past him. He couldn't fathom that archer's terrible strength if that double-shot was able to literally kick him off of his own horse.

It didn't matter though, he needed to keep his head up and make sure the children were safe... Carefully be plucked out the arrows from his chest, feeling the burn; he just hoped they weren't poisoned.

He could only observe how the car with the horses was running through the green plains, but just about when Link struggled to get back on Fien's chair, he noted another figure on the top of a distant hill.

There was a pitch-black figure on top of a large horse, the way they rose their hand up to the skies felt somehow... foreboding.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, the car horses freaked out and stopped on their tracks, making the driver fly past them and land painfully on the grasslands. The car collapsed to the side. Link already directed Fien to the spot of the accident, feeling just concerned over the childrens' safety.

Link was still hurt, he knew he'd be at a disadvantage if he engaged in a physical fight, but he had no choice.

His captain already came to check on the damaged cart, but he was pushed back by a sickle-wielding woman. Both of them now wore masks with the inverted Eye Symbol, and that's when Link unsheathed his sword and shield. The children were still inside the car. But Link's attention was divided between the Yiga women and the ground, the skeletal hands that sprouted from the ground that kept the horses' legs in an iron-grip...

A sharp terrible sound suddenly filled the air, the pitch of that sound was so high that he felt like it'd pierce his ears just like arrows, Link gasped in pain and winced, trying his hardest to not keel over. He forgot about the driver, who was now blowing into the flute that Dana mentioned before. But judging from how the women cringed, they were not immune to the shrieking sound of that flute; even so, it didn't stop the woman in red to swish out her sickle and attack him with a brutish war cry.

Link moved just fast enough to deflect the strike with his shield, but he couldn't stop the woman in blue from landing an extraordinary kick to the shield and making him fall back again. He rolled to the side, swinging his sword to keep them at bay. They repeated the process, but each new movement became duller and clumsier on all three sides, to the point in which it was hard to tell who was winning. The flute's song was clearly hindering everyone's capacity to fight, but the flutist didn't seem to care if it also affected his allies.

Just when it felt like the song was about the make his eardrums explode, it was stopped abruptly by the flutist's scream. When Link looked back again, he saw a dark young man towering over the powerless ruffian, pummeling him again and again with his fists.

Taking the opportunity, Link quickly pushed himself over again and quickly closed the distance between them by ramming his shield into the woman wearing red and jammed the pommel of his sword to the one wearing blue. The red one fell sprawling to the ground, but the blue one managed to avoid the hit, and jumped back. Link was prepared for a counter-strike, but instead, he watched how she jumped to pick up her comrade and glared daggers at him through her mask before using a smoke technique to escape.

Link dropped on his knees, between jagged breaths he called out his captain and just now it seemed like the rest of the squad was arriving to the scene... And that's when he looked into the car. The three young boys were all there, still unconscious and seemingly unharmed. Both him and the captain sighed in great relief.

Back to the young man who had come to the rescue on his own, Link noticed that the flutist had also disappeared in a cloud of orange smoke, which had taken him by surprise...

And then Link realized that their savior was actually the weird bokoblin-craft salesman that he met at the main square.

Good to know that their extremely big physique wasn't there just for show.

"Oh, hey, it's you again" said the youth, seemingly recognizing him too.

The captain had no idea of what happened, but he was more than glad to give his appreciation to the heroic stranger, all the squad arriving to check on the stolen car and the horses. The children began to wake up and cry for their parents.

Link briefly noticed that there were dirty small bones lying in the place where the flutist used to stand. It was beginning to get dark too.