“Felicia,” she responded (almost curtly), “Felicia Wolfsfield.”

Hesitation preceded her answer, unsure of whether or not she wanted the strange man knowing her name. She hoped, at the very least, this would be the end of his overly passionate nicknames. Mon cherie… Lover… Pretty Mama…. She inwardly cringed. Yes, she was grateful to get this name business sorted out.

“And I’m afraid I never caught your name either?” she added politely, cautiously extending her hand for a friendly handshake. (Emphasis on the friendly).

As Jira introduced himself, Felicia inevitably heard the clambering of Maryev as he came up the graveyard path. Feeling neither confident in Jira nor the woman (whose features seemed oddly foreign), Felicia kept her concerns to herself as he approached and simply stood off to the side amidst the graves. She could feel his eyes on her and the others and scratched her shoulder out of nervous habit. She glanced down at the caramel apple in her hands as if it might tell her more about what the heck was going on. Such puerile fantasies proving fruitless, she resigned to stand and wait patiently—and most importantly quietly-- until things started to make sense. What else had she to do on such a holiday as this anyway? This was a day for family and fun; a day for spending more money than you meant to without regretting it the next day; and a day to leave sorrow at home and throw caution to the wind (something entirely too impossible for Felicia).

She concerned herself with the candied apple once again, smoothing out the nicks until the surface was smooth as a sin.

---

“What kind of drawing would you want, and how much are you willing to pay?”

The woman’s smile widened. “It’s just a family portrait,” she replied, much to Nil’s relief to be sure, “To celebrate the season, y’know? We’d be willin’ to pay you a purple up front—“

“Moma!” a tall and gangly young man that reeked of manure and compost appeared from the passing crowd. He stepped into the alleyway and tapped her shoulder hurriedly, “Have you seen Lil’ Porky? He ran off someplace.”

The woman’s smile started to crack. “No, honey,” she flinched, irritated, “I haven’t. And didn’t I say not to bother me today?”

“Are you sure?” the man continued, pushing back his disheveled brown hair with a muddy-gloved hand and ignoring her question, “I gotta find’im, Moma! He’s all alone!”

“I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOUR DAMNED PIG IS, TONY,” the woman’s tone and countenance changed so suddenly a small group of nearby birds jumped clumsily into air—knocking into each other in their startled scramble to fly away.

The young man barely quailed, no doubt used to such theatrics. His neck remained turned as he desperately searched the crowd for his precious Lil’ Porky. “Alright, fine. Dinny you’re no help, Moma.” And with that he was gone and the woman’s composure was right back to the way it was.

“Name’s Yolanda,” she nodded, “We’re meetin’ up at the graveyard. Not ‘cause we’re weird or anythin’, but it’s a lot less crowded there, you know? The artist we hired before hand up and flaked out on us so I was lookin’ for one. You’re way better than any of those goons I seen so far though, sweetheart. Oh-- and don't worry. My son-in-law won't be there and the rest of the family smells almost as good as me." As she spoke she leaned herself in close and smiled-- inviting him to breath in the subtly pleasant scent of her flowery jasmine perfume. She again laughed as she leaned back and invited him to walk with her.

Ekra smiled; she had a feeling the song would be well-received. It often was. The last note hung in the air even as the blacksmith spoke. More songs in the cemetery? ...she certainly couldn't object. She'd never been to a graveyard, but she did know about them and that they were quiet places of respect. So said certain traders and Deku scrubs at least. She'd have to keep quiet and, well, she certainly wasn't bad at that. Just keep herself busy looking for the melodies and stay out of trouble that way. The blacksmith seemed eager to go - he had already closed up his shop as Ekra pulled the Keaton mask back into place and had to jog to keep up with the giant man.

The armored man was visible, and Ekra kept close to the blacksmith as they passed by to the gravestones. There seemed to be some people, none Ekra knew of course. She wandered among the tombstones, looking for anything resembling musical notes. Maybe they were in the windmill. Ask the blacksmith once he was ready..

Then she saw the moving shadow. Her eyes widened. Shadows didn't move on their own. Whatever made the shadows did that. She looked skyward first - no, sky was clear but for a few clouds. The blacksmith seemed to be alone, but there was something there... She pulled out one of the throwing knives. Well, now seemed a good a time as any to try. Her target was a bit low, so hopefully it'd reach and not hit the man. She took a deep breath and flun the knife at the shadow's hand as best as she could. She didn't know where else to aim. There just wasn't anything there.

The sudden arrival of what appeared to be a throwing knife where his ethereal hand was startled Cain somewhat. Of course, the blade merely landed, hilt-first on the ground where his two-dimensional form rested, totally harmless--to his body, at least. He whirled around to find its source, and witnessed the little Skull Kid that had evaded his notice. How had he not seen this?! Huge hat, gaudy colors, and a flamboyant yellow mask. The feeling of being ambushed and losing control over the situation sparked a little rage within the Twili. He was better than this!

Now that the strange, knife-happy child had noticed him and attacked him, there was no point in subtlety. Cain rose into half-bodied form from the shadow of a nearby, unmarked gravestone, still mercifully unnoticed by Angus, and plucked the dagger from the ground with a hand made of hair. Once the tiny weapon was palmed, the hand reverted into standard shadow. With it went the dagger, becoming as intangible and ethereal as the rest of him. This was how he ate and collected rupees in the World of Light; small objects could be converted into shadow as long as he held them, but they turned back the instant they left his touch. Now able to properly handle the knife, Cain pocketed it. He chided the frightened child in a restrained tone. "Now, now. Is that any way to treat a friend?" Since he was floating only a few feet from Angus, Cain knew he would hear and discover him, and decided to put up with the consequences.

Lost in his moment of solace and reflection Angus failed to notice the waving shadow, he kept looking to the graves, even shutting his eyes for a moment. His mind wandered back to his child hood oddly enough, all those years ago when he and his father would travel around the nearby settlements selling off whatever was in the back of their cart.

All of a sudden Angus was snapped back to the present, he felt the air disruption as something passed dangerously close to him. Rather than see what the object was he instead looked to the source, Ekra was stood alone wearing the same clothing as before and looking slightly bewildered. He frowned a little. "What was that all about lass? If you wanted my attention you should have just asked." He chuckled a little before turning around to see what she had thrown, a stone probably, maybe one of her seeds. He stepped back and his eyes widened to see the shadow rise from the ground and speak. "By the goddesses!" He blurted out. "What's going on here?!" He looked over his shoulder to Ekra then back again, hoping one of them could provide an explain.

"Destiny!" Cain announced loudly, seizing the attention of both the befuddled Hylian and the spooked Skull Kid. He moved about a foot backward and raised his hand like a showman, both to indicate that what he was saying was important and that he meant them no harm. The words that would leave his spectral lips in the next few seconds were vitally important in determining whether or not Angus and perhaps the strange child as well joined the cause. Naturally, he was banking on the fact that his luck with finding people would continue. A quick analysis of his garb provided an appropriate substitute for his name. "Tell me, craftsman, and you, masked one: were you drawn here to Kakariko by mysterious voices whispering in the night?"

Ekra stepped back as the shadow man materialized. Now what was that? She didn't think there were actual beings that lived in shadows. The closest she knew of were the Stalfos, who didn't literally live in the shadows like this thing did. Then the shadow man pocketed the throwing knife.

"Hey!" Being bumped around like she wasn't there, she could tolerate. Being menaced, not pleasant but she'd tolerate it. Taking her present? Now that was just low. And since when was he a friend? She never had many, but friends didn't steal from friends. Thankfully, the blacksmith noticed. Before Ekra could tell, the shadow spoke of destiny and the whispers. She wanted to know how he knew - he sure didn't sound like the whisperer, so maybe he worked for the voice - or opposed the voice. Both? But there was a more pressing matter first. She looked up to the blacksmith and pointed to the shadowy figure.

"He was going after you, and he took the throwing knife." Technically, that was what happened in this cemetery.

"Destiny? Whispers?" Angus repeated, frowning slightly, not so much scared by the moving talking shadow, more...Confused. Was this a ghost? A spirit with unfinished business who needed living allies? He shook his head slightly. "Listen, I don't know how you know about me going senile and hearing voices but how about you back off a little?" The smith moved away from the graves over to the cloaked girl. He raised his hand in the shadow's direction and held a palm flat, indicating for them not to come any closer. "Now how about you explain why my friend here felt the need to throw something at you? Were you really coming to get me?" He chuckled a little. "Is it my time already?" He then stepped closer to the shadow and help an open hand out. "I'd quite like that knife back as well."

Had Cain's face not been hidden beneath a bandanna and a cowl, his irate glare would have been easy to see. As a peace offering, he held out the shadowy dagger and released it from his grasp. Once out of contact with his body, the little weapon became whole again, and slapped harmlessly into Angus's outstretched palm. After that, Cain moved about two feet backward. He was not obliging when it came to being ordered around, but it seemed that dealing with the self-esteem of folks in the World of Light was something he'd just have to get used to.

"I'd dismiss your little friend's wantonly aggressive gesture as the natural response of a being who doesn't trust strangers. Perfectly reasonable, really." If there was one thing that made Cain happy, it was that Angus did indeed seem to be visited by the voice. That was the basis that was the foundation of his whole agenda at the moment. "I know about the voice because I heard it too, as my friend did. In fact, everyone standing near the graveyard's center heard it. We've been summoned here for a special purpose by a fairy called Lethe." He didn't devote any more time to picking out details about the man or the child. Cain had grown tired of analysis for the time being, however satisfying it was deducing the secrets of others. "I've only come to request that you join us for a while and hear her out."

"Hey, shadow guy dude!" A voice called out from the entrance of the graveyard. Veitaru appeared, short non-intimidating figure that she was, wrapped partly in her cloak with the hood up.

"Have we rounded everybody up yet for the angry fairy? Didn't want to keep wandering around if we had." As she finished walking forward, she rested her right shoulder against a random grave. Here, in the sun, pale as it was, she was far less reverent about the dead than in the dark.

She had a rock in her left hand, idly tossing it up and down.

It didn’t take a particularly long time for Zephyrus and Archer to espy the graveyard's distant form, even without Veitaru’s guidance.
Of course, this was partly down to the brothers knowing the territory- Kakariko was, after all, no great venture from their homes in Castle Town- but even then, there seemed something more.
There was some inexplicable part of Zephyrus which could almost sense the presence of the temple it played host to: Its location almost shone to him, as though some long defunct homing instinct within him had been awoken.
No, no shone was the wrong word… it was no bright influence. It was not some sparkling new venture to be beheld.
It was a darkling place, a crypt that Sheikah knew better than to approach. An omen of death.
Why, then, was he headed there? Had that murmur in the night really intended them to trespass in such a place?

This introspective, and Zephyrus’ steady pace, were suddenly impeded by the outstretching of some long, leather-clad arm, which pushed suddenly against his chest and rendered him motionless.
Both brothers came to a halt, with the graveyard’s path quite clearly in view, and its silhouette clear against the rock-face that flanked it.
“Hey,” Archer addressed him, suddenly, “We lost the kid.”
“I am well aware that the child has diverted her path, yes.”
“How long have we not been following the kid?”
“I don’t believe it matters.”
“It doesn’t matter?! Why are we even here, if not for the Gerudo?”
“Because I suspect this may have something to do with our concurrent night terror.”
“The nightmare we both had?”
Zephyrus nodded.
“And what makes you think that?”
“In your naivety you did not sense it, but I suspect that child knew more than she cared to say.”

Archer glanced around, to ensure nobody could hear his next words, “Keeping secrets? Well, I suppose she is—”
Zephyrus lifted his hand, and pressed it firmly over Archer’s mouth.
“Gewoff”, the younger brother grumbled.
“You mustn’t generalise so. I will remind you, you yourself belong to a race of great suspicion.”
Zephyrus withdrew his palm, and Archer scowled.
“I half belong to the Sheikah.”
“Your brother belongs to them in full.”
Archer hesitated, scowled, and then sighed, “Yeah… yeah, alright. I’ll watch my mouth.”
“That is all I ask.”
“But hey, one question?”
“Hm?”
“Why are the Sheikah so…”
“Suspicious?”
“Yeah!”

The older brother contemplated this for a second, averting his gaze to follow the direction of the wind, as his expression softened slightly.
“Because we are a race of secrets, and people fear that which they do not understand.”
“Then… why not tell them those secrets? Why keep it all hushed up?”
Zephyrus returned to looking at Archer, “Because the secrets we are burdened with protecting are far, far more terrifying.”
“… you fill me with confidence.”
“We would much rather have people fear us, than have them fear for the fragility of their own existence.”
“Seriously, great pep talk. Really loving this whole ‘being a Sheikah’ thing.”
“Perhaps it is fortunate, then, that you are- as you say- only half a Sheikah. Embrace your Hylian nature, if you fear such responsibility.”
“And do what?”
“Find a wife, start a family.”
“And what if I don’t want a wife?”
“Then a husband, I care little either way.”
“I meant what if I just wanted to be a ladies man!”
“Oh,” Zephyrus nodded, caught in momentary thought, “Mmn… no, I see no risk of that coming to pass.”
“You’re a jackass.”



Both siblings watched in silence as this new figure- who seemed to claim to be their guide, albeit wordlessly- beat their hasty retreat into the path beneath them.
Archer watched them leave in bemused silence, jaw hanging slightly ajar as he took a few moments to stare up at the cliff face, then back to where the newcomer had landed.
He repeated this a few times.
Zephyrus, however, was captured instead in rapt concern, frowning faintly through thin lips.
“I am beginning to empathise with your hesitance, brother,” he spoke, when the newer Sheikah had gained a fair distance.
Archer didn’t respond, not until Zephyrus clasped his shoulder, and motioned for him to walk.

“Sheikah are insane,” he eventually mustered, as his rigid form bent to Zephyrus’ encouragement and finally began to move again.
Zephyrus offered no retort, only information.
“Their name is Griz,” he began, adopting his own mild wariness, “And they are an anomaly even amongst the Sheikah.”
He spoke in a tone mild and quiet, for he intended no ill will, “They’ve never spoken a word to anyone... I’ve seen them only once before.”
“When?”
“When mother died,” he breathed. Archer paused, and then placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s back.
Neither sibling made mention of it.

“So… is ‘Griz’ a bad omen, then? You don’t seem too happy to see her.”
“Not necessarily… it’s one of many rumours. I know all I do from word of mouth, and gossip amongst the Sheikah is rare.”
“Right… what else do they say?”
“That Griz is a spirit of vengeance, sworn to silence until they can slay their parents’ killer.”
“Yikes, bad mojo.”
“Of course… others have suggested that they were forsaken for their oddness. Left to our clan by another Sheikah family… anonymously.”
“Damn. Either way she doesn’t have luck with parents, huh?”
Zephyrus nodded, almost sadly. Pitifully.

The two lapsed into quietness, and Archer watched as Griz moved on.
He chuckled lightly, with a sudden and nervous smile.
“Hey, bro,” Archer whispered.
“Yes?”
“She’s sure toned, huh?”
“I... beg your pardon?”
“Griz is all… fit.”
Zephyrus blinked in a mild confusion, and furrowed his brow inquisitively.
“It is expected of Sheikah to be fit,” he explained, “All of us are in the peak of physical health. Even our elders treat their bodies like temp-”
“I don’t mean it like that,” Archer hissed, gesturing for Zephyrus to keep his voice down.
“Oh? Oh. Oh.”

He glanced between Griz and Archer, but looked no less confused.
“Brother, you have a most… interesting, palate.”
“What? I bet she’s real pretty under all that stuff, it’s always the ones you least expect.”
Zephyrus turned his gaze forwards again.
They were approaching the gates now: Two massive, dilapidated wooden obstacles suspended from wooden walls by rusting, groaning joints.
“Very well.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re hiding something. What’re you hiding?”
“I am not the type to withhold information unless it is of great importance, brother.”
“What, do you not like her?”
“It is simply very possible that she is a he.”
“What? No way!”
“I’m afraid so. Nobody knows a thing about Griz, it’s all hearsay: That includes their gender.”
"But she looks-"
"- Androgynous? Looks can be deceiving."
"But the legs-"
"Are very thin, and no indicator of gender."
“... mrmn, alright. Lose interest in Griz, got it.”
“Are you so vain that gender guides your heart?”
“Yes.”
“So be it.”

Soon, the two were passing through the gates, having gained considerably on Griz in the process.
Upon entering the graveyard, Archer first noticed Veitaru, looking somehow decidedly less innocent.
Zephyrus, however, saw everything: How telling that was of their relationship.
His cerise eyes coruscated with interest: They saw shadows cast without cause, and a large armoured figure which lingered somewhere to the graveyard’s side…
And yet amongst them, Hylians, perfectly calm.
“Fascinating,” he breathed.

Rain Spider : Felicia

Jira smiled at her through his mask. Felicia.... what a gorgeous name. And a bad ass last name to compliment it too.

"Felicia Si?
I look forward
To adventurin' with ya
Mon'Ami~"

He made a show of blowing her a kiss through his mask before chuckling, not taking mind to how distracted she was.

"I
Am
The Rain Spider
Much
Like
The Field's Strider.
Don't know me?
Well I wish ya' did.
See Ladies Flock
And they want my kid.
But ain't no player,
I'm just fly!
I'm Jira Hinj,
In disguise."

At that last note he pulled down his mask just enough to waggle his eyebrows at Felicia before replacing it on his face.

Well, at least the knife was back, and the blacksmith believed her. But wantonly aggressive? Never. Ekra barely even knew the meaning of the first word, but she sure didn't see how it was aggressive going after something that she wasn't even sure wasn't going to attack. That just seemed normal to her, pin them down and then figure out what was going on. His next words were... significantly more interesting. She tilted her head. "A friend? Is he a shadow too? Are you both from Hyrule then? Who's 'everyone'?" Barely a pause between questions for even air, and even those questions were fleeting when the person about her size arrived and addressed the shadowy figure.

"Hiya! You know him? Are you the friend he mentioned?" She quickly closed the gap between them, mask still obscuring her face. "Who are you? Probably not the fairy, but you have to be someone, right?" Skin was a bit dark for a Kokori and maybe for a Hylian too? But she looked like a Hylian otherwise!

The situation was confusing for Angus he looked from the shadow creature, the species of which he still wished to know about but just as he was about to open his mouth and ask a question Ekra bombarded the figure with questions of her own. He glanced over to the centre of the graveyard to the the group the shadow had spoken of, next he turned his neck to see the hooded child appear from the path, at least he assumed she was a child given the sound of their voice. He found himself wondering if he really was about to meet a fairy, well he wasn't going to find out just stood there. "Seeing as we're here we might as well check this out. Don't you think?" He looked over his shoulder to Ekra with a slight shrug he decided this day was already pretty weird, maybe it was destiny, maybe this shadow creature was actually luring them into a trap. There really was only way to find out. "He who dares wins after all."

Felicia felt almost tempted to smile at Jira’s ridiculous eyebrow waggling. She felt that it may be a gateway to hysterical laughter, however, as the situation seemed to be growing more ludicrous by the second. What she assumed to be a father and his child had entered the graveyard and stood apart from her and the others. Most likely not involved with whatever was going on, she figured. She was just thinking them lucky before the child threw something at the ground and Cain’s shadow appeared before them, speaking loudly of destiny and whispers in the night. Her heart froze.

Destiny? Whispers? Her mind repeated the words just as the lumbering blacksmith said them aloud. Could this really be…?

"I know about the voice because I heard it too, as my friend did. In fact, everyone standing near the graveyard's center heard it. We've been summoned here for a special purpose by a fairy called Lethe," Cain explained.

“A fairy,” Felicia breathed inaudibly, furrowing her brow. Was that who Cain had been talking about-- the owner of the voice in her head? The voice that had replaced her nightmares and spoke to her even when she would lay awake in bed?

"Have we rounded everybody up yet for the angry fairy? Didn't want to keep wandering around if we had," a voice called from the graveyard's entrance. Felicia turned her head to see a young girl standing before the gate. From her clothes, she appeared to be a Shiekah, but her features suggested Gerudo. The trait that most held her attention, however, was that she looked to be no older than 10. Perhaps she’d gotten caught up in a game? Or some silly childish prank? Or maybe this was a sort of service project and this had been their funny way of advertising and gathering volunteers?

She thought of the Hero of Time and how the legends said he’d began his quest when he was merely 10. She didn’t want to think whatever she was here for could be dangerous. Who would willfully involve children in such a thing?

Go to the Hero of Time Festival. The fate of all life in Hyrule depends on it.

That’s what the voice had said. A humanitarian project. Please, somebody tell her this was just a humanitarian project. Or a charity event, maybe. Were they going to sew winter clothes for orphans? Or serve soup to the homeless? Somehow, looking between the heavily armored man and almost equally huge blacksmith-- she didn't think so....

"He who dares wins after all,” she heard the blacksmith say as three more entered the graveyard behind the child, who was now talking to the blacksmith’s little one. Two of the new comers were obviously shiekah, but what were they doing here? The unsettling feeling in her stomach lurched. Although logic screamed within her skull, begging her to leave-- she felt inexplicably compelled to stay. The strength of her conviction scared her. Was this the power of mortal curiosity or was something else at work here? Being one who was often berated for being a superstitious worry wart, she decided to give it all the benefit of the doubt.

She wanted to tell herself not to panic, but given the circumstances she couldn’t come up with a more appropriate response. As the dread inside her festered, she scratched her shoulder and took a deep breath. “Is it really true that we’ve all been hearing the same voice? The voice that told me to come here? That all life in Hyrule depended on it?”

Cain glanced down at Ekra as she tilted her head and bubbled forth questions. He considered them briefly and the best response, in the end deciding on a simple, “Yes, no, no, you'll see shortly.”

As it turned out, 'shortly' didn't even cover ten seconds. As if on queue, the little Gerudo child appeared. What was her name again? She seemed like a different person. Neither aggressive nor non-cooperative, she simply stood there with her hood up, tossing her rock. Cain wondered if she thought that made her look more impressive. After holding a hand up to excuse himself from Angus for a moment, he knelt in the air in front of Veitaru. “Not everyone, dearie. I'm sure we've both been having trouble remembering everyone we were supposed to find. But we've got a fair few. Hope it'll be enough.”

He indicated that she ought to join the others at the graveyard's center before turning back to Ekra and Angus. The towering blacksmith informed him that he'd be giving him a chance after all, and Cain was inwardly pleased. “Too true,” he declared in response to Angus's words, and led both Hylian and Skull Kid with the others.

This time, rather than simply melting into a shadow once again, he remained in half-bodied form. The phase in which stealth had been necessary to avoid causing disruption in Kakariko was gone; now, he had to try and seem as trustworthy as possible. While even he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his current nebulous form wasn't very trust-inspiring, it was probably better than a disembodied voice at someone's feet.

So, in half-bodied form, he scrutinized the gathering. The Darknut was here, clearly bored and fit to burst with contempt for those around here, but here nonetheless. Two others had arrived unnoticed by him, presumably brought by Veitaru. One was clearly a Sheikah given his garb and bearing, and while the other was very similar he was also unique. Unique, that is, in the sense that he was pretty much unremarkable compared to most of those present. Given their proximity, it was obvious they knew each other, and it wasn't a hazardous extension to say they were related.

Once he was done staring intently at the two newcomers, he hovered over to Frore's side. The Chilfos-turned-Hylian seemed pleased that he was back, but said nothing, as if the gravity of the current situation silenced her. She wasn't far wrong; the current atmosphere in the graveyard was grim and expectant. The people naturally formed a sort of circle, staying nearby those they knew but also -for the most part- sensing that they were part of a new little community. There were so many questions hanging in the air, and the only individual who could answer them all was not present. Cain knew that if Lethe did not return soon, some of the less interested members of this unorthodox gathering would bail. Come on, you wretched pixie. If I have to pretend I'm working for you we might as well make accomplish something.

”It’s just a family portrait. To celebrate the season, y’know? We’d be willin’ to pay you a purple up front—“ As she was describing what she wanted the woman was interrupted by a man who seemed to work as a lowly stable hand and was feed about as much. Nils mind however had latched onto the size of the payment. A purple rupee!? i haven't had that much money before in my life. As he thought about all the things he could do with the money he was dimly aware of the man crying about a pig that he’d lost. Nil was forcibly brought back to reality when the woman responded to the man loudly and harshly. He took a quick step back in surprise and his back met the dead-end wall of the alley. Debating seriously whether or not to get out of here, he waited, the temptation of some actual food keeping him there with his back to the wall.

“Name’s Yolanda, we’re meetin’ up at the graveyard. Not ‘cause we’re weird or anythin’, but it’s a lot less crowded there, you know? The artist we hired before hand up and flaked out on us so I was lookin’ for one. You’re way better than any of those goons I seen so far though, sweetheart. Oh-- and don't worry. My son-in-law won't be there and the rest of the family smells almost as good as me."

His head hit the wall this time, as Yolanda leaned in to invite him to smell her. His face felt aflame as she laughed at him and invited him to walk with her. He nodded following relieved that it was a family he was going to be drawing and not only that he was going to be able to draw the graveyard which he originally wasn’t going to even get near. The goddess’ seemed to shining on him indeed, perhaps his duty lay in simply drawing this family and catching something that someone else would use for their quest. That’s how fate worked, a nobody would incidentally find a clue and not realize its importance and later a real hero would gather clues such as his to combat a great evil like Ganon. Nil smiled, maybe today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

""Hiya! You know him?"

"Uh..."

"Are you the friend he mentioned?"

"Ah..."

"Who are you? Probably not the fairy, but you have to be someone, right?"

"Nar..." Veitaru found herself quite tongue-tied by the time Ekra finished, which, while short in duration was packed with questions.

As Veitaru blankly stared for a moment at Ekra, she seemed about to compose herself and respond, Veitaru was hit in the face by a falling rock. The one she herself had thrown a little too hard and off course when surprised by Ekra's approach.

It was a small rock, so Veitaru's reaction was simply to go.. "OW."

And then..

"The Hell're you?" Veitaru averted her eyes and hid herself behind a hand that she applied perhaps to rub the spot she had just hit herself in. She also took the opportunity to not so surreptitiously tug her hood down so it'd cover more of her. She didn't like the keen gaze of whatever the hell this was.

"Ack, wait, no! Don't answer. You'll do that thing again." Her eyes widened as she realized she had just asked Ekra to start talking again.

Maryev watched as more people filled into the graveyard, apparently more potential hirelings of the shade that had confronted Maryev minutes earlier. There was that damnable Ox and his daughter again, and yet another child marching alone to attend the as-of -yet purposeless meeting. He watched the charade with Ox’s daughter and the shade, an unprovoked and ultimately fruitless attack against her superior. When the shade didn’t immediately strike the Keaton-masked girl for her insolence, Maryev grunted disapprovingly. Clucking at her like a hen in hopes of earning her affection wasn’t going to prevent her from attempting such a foolish feat again; she would learn no discipline and continue to challenge her place whenever she thought she could get away with it.

Her father was exactly as weak as Maryev had anticipated. Instead of striking her and scolding her for her failed assault on the shade, he cooed at her, as if niceties would yield an answer and compliance. All she was learning was that she would receive no repercussions to acting without thought, the rashness that would doubtless get her killed one day. Those who acted without assessment were doomed to be unintellectual fodder to those who valued their minds as much, if not more, than their prowess at arms. In Maryev’s culture, she would amount to little more than a labourer if she survived to come of age. Even the lowest ranked foot soldiers had no use of someone with such a pathetic temperament. It was not his concern, but the Darknut felt nothing but contempt at Ox’s failed parenting and refusal to commit to discipline. No wonder why Kakariko Village and most of Hyrule was a festering heap of incompetent corruption; it was a society without order or accountability. It was disgusting.

When the shade, clearly not a ghost as Maryev had first expected, spoke again it drew the Darknut’s attention.

"Tell me, craftsman, and you, masked one: were you drawn here to Kakariko by mysterious voices whispering in the night?"

Maryev recalled all too well the voices that woke up from his slumber and influenced his march upon the damnable village, one claiming his destiny and redemption were awaiting in Kakariko Village. Maryev did not believe in consequences, and if everyone were gathered here by what the shade had claimed was a fairy named Lethe, then something bigger was at play here than Maryev had initially anticipated. A feeling of apprehension filled him, and indignant that he, of Darknut nobility and a warrior’s creed, was put on an equal keel to the irritable and obnoxious peasants that occupied the graveyard. They were beneath him, and he severely doubted anything a fairy, a cowardly winged bat-like creature that was best enslaved in small containers with the price of mending wounds in exchange for freedom than to listen to their inane babel and apparent “wisdom”, which was likely little more than gawking in a misguided attempt to secure their liberty from said containers. Whatever this Lethe fairy was, Maryev was certain she would be unimpressive and unworthy of paying heed to. Still, his feet remained planted if for no other reason than desiring an exclamation why his time was wasted and why he was canvased to attend this worthless gathering. That he very much so was interested in.

His attention was drawn to the deity-awful crooning of the masked man he had noticed upon arrival who was clearly infatuated with the girl who gave Maryev a wide berth earlier, moments before the shade had confronted the Darknut with the proposition. This so-called Rain-Spider was a flamboyant charlatan that had a voice better suited to begging on shit-encrusted corners for spare rupees to prolong its miserable existence than to seduce a member of the opposite sex. It was the worst display of courtship Maryev had ever witnessed, the pathetic groveling to a woman who clearly was not interested in his affections, and rightfully so. Maryev spoke for the first time, his voice a booming growl,

“If any woman is infatuated with the putrid whining you mistake for serenading the girl, then they are either deaf, deformed, or a mangy bitch who are so desperate for attention they’d entertain the idea of copulating with a pathetic insect like yourself. So shut your filthy hole before I find my fist filling it and crushing your larynx so we can all be spared of your groveling.” He said, turning to the others.

“So we all heard some form of magic that a fairy used to lure us into spending an unpleasant morning amongst people that would be better suited for cleaning a privy than being called to some higher purpose. If someone has something to volunteer that would illuminate why I should waste any more of my time waiting on the whims of a shrieking, glorified moth, please do so.” He shoved an arm towards the two children. “A shrieking, glorified bat that I would like to point out sees fit to throw infants into some presumed crucible, probably as a sacrifice to your damnable goddesses. None of you thought that strange or worth speaking against? It’s no wonder this culture is rotting. You think infants are as competent as adults.” Maryev rumbled, looking at each person in turn. “You are all disgusting.”

It was strange that the girl had gotten hit by her own rock. She didn't seem to be taking it well, leaving the rock on the ground where it had fallen and keeping her face covered. Ekra picked the rock back up, figuring she might want it back once everything stopped hurting. The next words...

"The Hell're you? Ack, wait, no! Don't answer. You'll do that thing again." Ekra tilted her head, already a fresh multitude of questions running through her mind.

"What thing? I wasn't doing anything that weird. Didn't think so, anyways." She reached into her bag and pulled out a puppet. Well, partially: the top half was visible, the lower half remaining in the bag. "Did you see anything?" The puppet seemed to shake its head without any help from Ekra. "Yeah, me neither." And back the puppet slid into the bag, its presence no longer needed. "But anyways, I can tell you, but you gotta keep it a secret. Some adults don't really like it when I'm around. He does-" She gestured to the blacksmith. "-though he's also really nice." By the time they'd reached the circle, she realized she recognized one of them - the so-called 'entertainer' who was already grousing at someone else. Her train of thought briefly derailed. "Aw, him? He's mean and probably a liar." She sniffed. "And smells." Then....well, apparently he thought bats and moths were the same thing. And...wait. She looked around. Ok, she swore she heard an 's' on the end so the girl and....well, she was the only other particularly short one here. She looked to the girl. "Well, still getting your answer, just a sec." She pulled the hood down and jumped onto the nearest gravestone to give herself a bit more height before unmasking. Granted, it certainly was strange to see a skull kid outside of the Lost Woods, and even fewer skull kids frowned, but any intimidation was lost by the simple fact of her size.

"Mister, I was probably a walking corpse even before you were born so stop being a- a- a meanie know-it-all!" Not a very effective insult, especially with her rather, well, girly voice. Slightly more disturbing was the casual tone for her next words. "Ok, so-" She faced Angus, pointing to Maryev "-if he's not the thing we're here to kill-" She then turned to Veitaru, pointing at Cain. "-and he's not the thing we're here to kill-" Now, she threw her hands skyward. "-then why are we all gathered here at the Festival? Where's the thing we're gonna have to kill if it's not here?"

Angus chuckled slightly watching Vietaru and Ekra, noting the arrival of the three people from the path of the graveyard. He crossed his arms as he moved closer to the gathering by the centre of the graveyard, he surveyed the crowd, listening to each of them speak. He was thrilled by the idea of the whispers actually meaning something other than that he was getting old and hearing things. His heart sank slightly as he spotted the Darknut, 'Him again? Doesn't seem like any kind of hero I've ever head of.' He thought to himself, then again neither was an ageing blacksmith.

Looking over his shoulder, Angus' eyes widened a little as Ekra spoke up about the growling creature, not only that but she revealed herself to be a skull kid which didn't especially surprise Angus given he'd seen her wooden hand and deku seeds and blow pipe flute. Stepping forward he raised and lowered his hands in a calming fashion. "Let's try and stay calm, keep our heads until this fairy addresses us. And who says we're here to kill something? I for one don't plan on going on a war march."