#lozatla.

@grimoircs / yul + rae, lozatla

“sir!” someone yells at him (and yul would be lying if he said he hates the sound of it). 

he turns and the wreckage pangs something in his chest. this is necessary, he reminds himself. for the good of dal ra-- of hyrule. the crackle of fire on wood all around them and the groans of the injured filter through his ears, but he presses on. steps over the body of an old friend, pulling an arrow that once burned bright out of his chest all while refusing to look down. he’s sending a message, he reminds himself once more. that he’s coming. 

“sir!” the voice comes again, more frantic this time, “we found something you need to see.”

he drops the arrow and buttons his vest, uselessly brushing off dirt from the blood splattered, torn fabric. a small flame glows from his fingers as he lights his way through the dark night, following the chatter of voices towards the edge of what once was the small village. when the flame lights up an all too familiar noble caravan, now surrounded by his people with hands at the ready, the rest of the night happens in a blur. at least for yul, who drowns out all the sounds around him, gaze laser focused on a figure so slender with eyes so bright he thinks he might still be asleep. but he isn’t. his feet feel frozen on the ground, stuck in the half-burnt grass and heated dirt while the others work around him. 

he barely hears the yelling, barely remembers leaving with a prisoner in the back of their vehicle, barely knows how they got back to lurelin village a few hours later. 

all he knows now is he’s standing in front of an isolated wooden cabin guarded by two of his own, and dal rae is sitting inside, a door the only barrier between them. he gestures to the plate of food in his hand, and the guards let him in. when their eyes meet, he doesn’t let them waver, freezes in place. he waits for the door to shut behind him before he moves, quick, setting the food down on a small table and sighing out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. he fumbles for the knife in his pocket, desperately reaching for her hands soon after

“what the hell are you doing here?” he asks, or scolds really, in as quiet of an angry whisper he can muster as he works at the rope binding her hands. 

@grimoircs / kian & yeona

the ache in his chest never really goes away. 

ever present in his quiet, lonely travels over the hilltops and far, far away from that quaint little village. at least she has her grandma, he thinks, has things to keep her mind busy and away from him. though selfishly, he hopes she does not wander away for far too long. he would not survive it if she forgot him, forgot the whirlwind hours they shared while he keeps his promise to her, bae yeona. never once not thinking about the care in her eyes because it’s all he can do in the hours he spends by himself yet again. 

kian once thought he was meant to be alone, his grandfather nearly telling him as much in so little words. he’d been stern, that old man, intent on keeping him far from all the other nations. and it was only after he painfully learned of his status that he realized why. he was not ready for responsibility that outweighed him, a small little boy then with the warmth of the sun in his eyes. but he’s bigger now, he has seen and learnt new things and experienced pains he never knew existed. 

now, he knows with the heart he left in yeona’s hands that he is not destined to be alone. now, he knows his purpose. he does not know how he intends to bring harmony upon an already fractured hyrule, but he will fight until he finds a way. and right now, that way is to lurelin village, where he’d heard through passed on whispers that the deposed fire prince and his rebellion has taken shelter. 

kian’s not sure how many days it’s been, now, since he’s been searching. all he knows is he’s finished every last piece of bread yeona had given him, and he is so very grateful for the wild horse he befriended and tamed with the help of a few apples and a soft voice. 

he knows, also, when he wakes up to a reddened fall morning sky, what panic feels like once more. he’d heard of the blood moon from his grandfather in the past, the boney monsters it rose from beneath the dirt, the way they could take down small villages in minutes. and so he rides. with a quickened heart and a hurried mind, he turns epona around without a second’s hesitation and does not let her stop. because he is not meant to be alone, anymore, and he can’t do that if yeona is not there, safe and sound to return to.

when the sun sets and the ominous moon comes out, it paints the earth red and his head starts to ache, dully but there. he pays it no mind, racing on, and on, and on. 

until he see’s her. right next to one of those monsters he’s only seen in his nightmares. 

“yeona!” he yells clear across the field, skidding epona to a stop and jumping off quick. the world spins at his feet and he nearly stumbles, but he grits his teeth. runs towards her through the ache and shoots his hands out in a failed attempt to launch a large boulder at the monster getting ready to swing. he tries again, and fails again. mutters a curse to himself before reaching back for the handle of the sword, puling it out quick. it feels unusually heavy in his hands and he can barely steady himself before he sees the bones fall to the ground.