Earl
Admittedly, the messages put them off more than it should have.

Very little was possible to pass the time with, when you have nothing to do but wander. Wander they did, eyes on the strange landscapes surrounding them and focused on what laid around them. Ears perked, listening for the slightest hint of others- the rustle of grass or the sway of tree that ever so slightly didn't match up with the rest. It could be the prevention of being caught off guard, and they'd certainly not allow that.

Though, as strange as it felt to admit, they grew just ever so slightly weary. It gave them a pause in their path, eyes darting up to look at moonlit skies, as thought creeps in. Damning, dark thoughts that would not be easily chased away. They were still growing used to- well, this. Whatever this could be called in the first place. To be placed in one so messily, then drafted to whatever land this was. There had to be *Some* Purpose behind it, their prolonged life.

He could not begin to figure it out. Not yet at least. That, he could agree on. There was much further to be learned, even if they were put off by the fool's words.

Pulling himself out of his mind, he moves on. They keep themself from further distraction, path clear. Whatever shelter there was, they would need to find it and take stock of their surroundings. What they had, what they didn't, what to do next. There was much to do next. 

Though- his attention peaks once more, and he lowers his head.
Wendy
*Drip. Drip.*

Bright red blood spattered on the ground as a lone figure staggered forward, hand pressed tightly to his side. It did little to stem the flow of blood. 

His old injury flared, his leg throbbing as he limped on and on; if he stopped, he'd collapse, and if he collapsed, he'd never get up. 

He panted, white hair plastered against a face drenched in sweat. There was... A town around here, wasn't there...? If he held out just a little longer, surely he'd...

The Sheikah came to a halt, stumbling and nearly falling over. What... What made him think the town would *Help* Him? An injured Sheikah who was far from Kakariko... Not even dressed like them...

They'd suspect, if not outright know, he wasn't a true Sheikah. He'd be lucky if they chased him off rather than kill him, but... Could he blame them if they killed him?

A ragged laugh escaped him. Of course not. They'd be well within their rights to kill a monster like him. What was he even *Doing*?

*Why... Am I trying so hard to survive? Wouldn't it be better if I just... Died?*

Ha... He sank to the ground, leaning his back against a tree. Honestly, what did he have to live for? A life of isolation? He dared not grow close to anyone. He'd be hunted for the rest of his life, and... Who would want him? 

"Ha... So stupid, Asano. Did you think just because of a few kind words on a parchment people would actually *Want* You? You stupid, pitiful *Fool*." 

He shoved the parchment into his pack so no one could hear him. The thought of them hearing his final moments was... Painful. 

*Will they wonder what happened, after I stop responding? Ah, well... They'll forget about me soon enough.*
Earl
Something was off. That was clear enough to them, to their very core, but what they couldn't quite understand. Something had changed in the air and caught their attention, that wasn't a question. All it took was a pause, pale eyes staring into the distance, before it clicked.

A coppery tang in the air. Something that, undoubtedly, smelled like *Blood*.

It could just be a monster, was the first thought. Somehow ended up either destroying itself, or someone had taken it out. It was certainly possible, those in that parchment make mention of attacks often. At the same time though, that could easily mean the opposite. With so much out, someone could easily find injury. A traveler, or something similar, that had been on the wrong side of a blade or club. It wouldn't hurt to check, he wouldn't want to let someone lie injured if he could help.

They followed the scent, then sound of ragged breaths. Injured, most certainly, and bad at that. No monster would sound like this, and eventually they find much different. Not monster, *Sheikah*. It's almost off-putting at first until they remind themselves that, no, there are Sheikah in this time. This one is hurt, and that needs to be staunched first and foremost.

Fierce steps closer, muttering "Please keep still, I'm not going to hurt you," Before kneeling with his palms up and open. They know Sheikah well enough, they know that being caught unprepared is a surefire way to make them react. They're warriors at heart, and they'd rather not manhandle someone not in the condition to be manhandled. "I'm going to try and stop that bleeding. Okay"?

They wait for a response before getting closer, though still move to check their items. A potion would likely be best, but they aren't sure they have the time to look for once with how much blood already is set on the dirt. Pack it first, potion second. Then, hopefully, get them to town and to the inn.

"I am serious. Moving is going to make this harder for both of us".
Wendy
He flinched, free hand instinctively drawing his hidden blade and aiming it at the stranger. He knew he was not in the least bit threatening, and his hand holding the blade shook from exhaustion and pain, but he held it up anyway.

"Don't... Touch me."

His voice, pained and ragged, still held an edge to it. A hint of the Yiga warrior he had once been. Despite leaving them behind, despite casting off their ways, some teachings stuck and would never fade. One such thing: *Never trust anyone*.

How could he trust this stranger to do what they said? He didn't know them, they didn't know *Him*... Why would they help him? They must want something from him, and he wasn't going to give whatever it was to them.

His hand shook... His wrist spasmed, and he involuntarily dropped his blade, flinching as it clanged to the ground. His back against the tree, rapidly losing his life's blood... He couldn't move no matter how much he wanted to. 

He grit his teeth, tipping his head back until it hit the tree. How he hated to be caught at such a vulnerable moment. Showing weakness in the Yiga more often got you killed, and it was ingrained within him to never show such vulnerability. 

"If," He said, his voice tight with pain, "You wish to show mercy, then kill me swiftly."

Better to die to a stranger's blade than to bleed out on the dirt.
Earl
You could hardly see him roll his eyes, but either way the other's words weren't taken incredibly seriously.

Did people of this time really have this flair for the dramatics? Well- they suppose there were plenty of dramatics where they came from too... A lot actually... But they'd grown desensitized. New flair for the dramatics, then. Usually in the form of either injuries, loss of life, or sheer and absolute stubbornness when it comes to both. No, of course he would not be killing this one. It might be the easier choice, but they were not that reprehensible nor callous.

... Not anymore, at least.

Eventually they produce a rag that they can't quite remember where they got it from- maybe earlier in the day while working- and put it to use. Knowing that the other couldn't fight back in this state, they grab on to the stranger's arm to pull it away from their side. Once the wound was exposed, they packed the rag against it with force to keep the bleeding to a minimum. Even as it begins bleeding through, the pressure will be enough for now. They keep one hand steady against the other's side, and use their other to look through their bag. They can't have... Ah, there.

They hold up a potion bottle, red and shimmering and thankfully still full- they haven't used many since pain became... Well, just a nuisance than a problem. They hold out the bottle to the white haired man, and speak flatly. "Healing. If you think this is poison, then there you go, you're dead. It should start helping that wound close. You will drink it".

It's not a request. It's a statement. One made with clear intent to go through with it should they disagree.
Wendy
"*Ah*-!"

He couldn't hold back a small cry of pain, his body twitching as the stranger forced the rag against his wound. He gasped, closing his eyes against the pain and gritting his teeth in a futile attempt to try to fight off some of the agony. 

"N-not much of a healer, are you,"He groaned through gritted teeth. "Spirits- you could be a little less rough-!"

The stranger reminded him a bit of the Yiga clan's 'doctor'. Horrible bedside manner, would actually set bones as if he were just slapping some pieces together. Actually, this man might be *Worse*. 

He glared at the stranger, recognizing their intent; if he didn't drink it, they'd force him to. How lovely; he would somehow attract the one person in Hyrule who apparently took to 'helping' people as if they were forcing a skittish animal down in order to give it medicine. 

"A blade to the neck would be far less painful than poison," He muttered, but he took it anyway, because he doubted the person being *This* Forceful about helping him was going to turn around and poison him. 

He used his teeth to pry the cork off the bottle and drank it down, wincing as it felt like fire rushing through his veins. The effects of a healing potion were never... Pleasant, and his side *Burned* As he felt the gash starting to close. 

"Spirits above," He panted. 

It was *Painful*, but he could feel it had done the trick, more or less. He wasn't bleeding out into the dirt, anyway.
Earl
There.

Once the potion is taken and drank the pressure is severely lessened, due to Fierce pulling both hands away from them. Small mercies, at least for the other now that the forceful presence has backed off some. Fierce glances down at his palm, curling his fingers, before seeming satisfied that there wasn't too much blood on him. The rag had absorbed enough, and the potion should put in the rest of the work.

Evidently, the reactions they hear don't seem to phase them much. The Hylian's face had hardly changed except for when they speak, just bored neutrality. No matter the grunts of pain or comments about their severe lack of bedside manners, there wasn't even a twitch.

At the least now they're backing off. Moving to stand upon being assured that the healing would take its course, a step backwards from the former Yiga to create space. Safe to say that they can tell the traveler isn't exactly pleased, and they'd rather not worsen it by too much. It'd be a pity to help only to get into some kind of excursion with them, even if they're heavy handed about it. Soft care doesn't exactly come easily to them, when meant to destroy.

"That should tide you over well enough," Fierce murmured, glancing over in the distance where Tarrey should lie and pointing a finger "You can find shelter there. An inn and general store, town called Tarrey. That should help take care of any lingering exhaustion or wound".

Will they go? Well, they're not sure. Certainly thus far they've shown the pattern of behavior they'd picked up on- it was almost familiar in a way. Still, it doesn't hurt to at least mention. Tarrey has been rather fine thus far to them, they can at least offer something.
Wendy
His breaths came in soft, exhausted pants. He was still in some pain, and he could tell he wasn't fully healed, and he didn't have enough energy to really stand. He stared at the stranger with exhausted eyes, wondering why they were even bothering. What did they get out of this...?

"Not... A good idea," He sighed. "It wouldn't be safe..."

He didn't elaborate on why. He didn't feel like telling a complete stranger his life's story, whether they'd helped him or not. He still didn't *Know* Why they'd helped him...

"I'll be fine," He mumbled. "I've survived this long."

He was talking more to himself that the stranger, though his voice was just loud enough to still be heard. He didn't know if he'd be found so quickly after fleeing the Yiga that had found him last night, but he did know the attack was too recent to risk going into the village. He knew his former comrades wouldn't hesitate to attack innocent people just to get to him, and how could he dare to put anyone in danger just to save his own hide?

How pathetic that would be... How selfish. Hadn't he lived his life with such selfish whims enough? 

"In my pack... There are some rupees, if that's what you're after. Take them all, if you want... I don't care."

He was so tired... He just wanted to rest at this point.
Earl
There's a moment of silence, before it clicks, and all Fierce has to say is "Ah. You".

He has no interest in rupees. If they need them, they'll work for them- not intimidate them out of someone unable to fight back. There's no use in that, it wouldn't even be a victory. Just pitiful, on both ends of it. No, they won't do something like that.

They stare at them for a moment, eyes narrowing. With as little energy as they seem to currently have, Asano certainly wouldn't make it through the night. He'd be at the whim of anything that found him, whether it be the Yiga he so loathed or any simple Bokoblin that stumbled upon this site. "Survived this long" Means very little when it becomes "Survived for that long", they would know. Death will come, no matter how well you think you can avoid it.

"I'm certain there's better shelter out here than some tree, at least. I know you won't go into town. I won't force you, even if I disagree," Fierce hummed, before tilting his head in thought as he moved to check his pack "I have no need for rupees or anything. I simply don't see a reason to let you die, when it can be avoided".

Someone else will likely know better than themself. Anything could be utilized so long as it served well enough to be further from the open, where spotting is as easy as just taking a quick peak around. They'd attempt to figure something out, like it or not, Asano was not in the position to simply lie exposed while actively being hunted. Even if he refused most help as though it was a disease.
Wendy
"..."

He stared at the stranger. *Ah, you? Why are they acting like they know me-*

Oh.

Oh it was *Them*.

Asano would have moved back if the tree weren't in the way, so he opted to just scowl instead. Of *All* The people to find him, it had to be the one who had interrogated him like he was some kind of experiment. 

"Not you," He groaned. "Haven't you bothered me enough already? Spirits- my answer isn't going to change. Just leave me *Alone*."

He flung a hand across his forehead, feeling like a headache was coming on top of everything else. 

"Fancy yourself a hero all you like, this is my life, and I choose what to do with it. I told you I'm fine; just respect that, will you? You won't even get anything out of helping me, besides making enemies with the Yiga. Just go *Away, please*."

Couldn't they see he was *Tired*? He just... Didn't want to do this any longer. Perhaps a stronger person than he could have fled the Yiga and lived... Thrived, even. Dorian had done it.

*But you're not Dorian, are you? You don't have a place among the Sheikah like he does. And you can't ask the Champion whose life you had once been raised to take to defend you. It isn't right.*

*You deserve this, don't you, Asano?*

"Ha..."

This was so, so *Stupid*. These damned heroes. 

"Go *Away*." His voice cracked. "*Please*. Leave me *Alone*!"
Earl
The entire time Asano is having what Fierce would call "A moment", there is no reaction from the other. Fierce doesn't move nor speak except to scrawl on the parchment, expression that unchanging flat wall that has grown to be expected, until he's done. He shifts to put it back in his pouch, before they turn their head back towards Asano and wait until he's finished speaking.

"Wild has a home out here he's willing to let you use as shelter," They state simply, not even beginning to touch on everything that came because a lot of it is just the usual "No town. No one else nearby to get hurt. The only condition is to not touch any of the weapons inside. Wild doesn't mind otherwise".

It's once more a statement. No pleases, no coulds, no questions. Just what Fierce knows to be the truth, and nothing more than that. Wild is offering, and in their eyes Asano should take it. It fits most of the prerequisites, and no one should be stupid enough to start tearing apart the Champion's house. They likely wouldn't even know it was his, if it hasn't already been ransacked. No one would be likely to check for Asano there, why would they after all?

"I know you're going to fight me if I try to touch you, even if I tell you that's a poor idea," Fierce continues, raising a brow "It's only natural after all. However, I'm not leaving you be until you're out of the open and able to be found with ease. I avoided dropping your name in the parchment, but I have no qualms about mentioning it if I need to. I'm sure you'd prefer no one else steps in, yes?"

... Bribery. Fierce is bribing Asano to go along with it. They already know the opinion Asano has on them is poor, and there's no fixing that. If they're going to be the bad guy, then they will use it how they can to assure that they're taken care of. If he follows along, Fierce will keep their silence. If he doesn't, Fierce will not be the only one trying to change his mind.
Wendy
"You just don't stop," He groaned. 

They were not going to leave Asano alone, were they? Anyone *Else* Would just leave him to die, wouldn't they? Maybe... The Champion wouldn't, but this wasn't the Champion! Gods above... This was ridiculous. 

He glared at Fierce, contemplating if he could get away with flinging a kunai at them and teleporting away. ...No. He didn't have the strength for that. 

"Why... Do you care?" He asked. "You *Barely* Know me. We're not friends or even allies. Most people would just leave me, you know! Why can't you just be the same? I *Told* You, I don't want your *Help*. I don't want to go to the Champion's home; I don't want to cause any problems for him!"

Hadn't the Champion dealt with enough? He didn't need Asano in his home, potentially attracting Yiga to ransack his home. He didn't... He didn't *Deserve* The Champion's help. 

"Of course he said I could," He murmured. "He's... Like that. But I don't understand why *You* Care."
Earl
"Because I want to help".

It's said just as flatly as everything else. Just as patiently, tone even and quiet as those almost glowing eyes regard Asano. There's no pity, there's no anger, not even frustration. He only says things he means, or things that will further his goals. Lying serves no purpose, a waste of time for them.

Fierce shifts to kneel down, feet held on the ground with hands on his knees. Closer to eye level with Asano rather than standing over him, and there's again that sense of being studied. Like Fierce is trying to figure something out, brows furrowing together as he looks Asano over. Like if he simply looked he could understand why he deems himself unworthy, unable to have any kind of salvation other than death. Why he meant so little to himself. They cannot find it that way though, and their eyes raise to meet red.

"I'm not good with people, I don't know if I can explain this right, but that's simply part of who we are. Your Champion, and those that share his name. I care because I don't understand why you should have to suffer in silence," Fierce tilts their head "I don't understand people much in general of course. I think that's clear. But you have people that want to help you despite the fact that you do not want to help yourself. I suppose I just care about making sure that desire is not silenced, too".

Their throat feels raw and scratchy. They haven't spoken this much in- well, years probably. All the years they were comatose for at least, and they move to glance away as they clear their throat. Again the blonde stands, again they step back. Space is created, and they reiterate.

"I'm not going to force you. I will not allow sufferage in silence though. I cannot."
Wendy
He laughed, a low and bitter sound. 

"You don't want me to suffer in silence? Where where you *Before*, then? I could have *Actually* Used help back then!"

How long had he suffered in silence? Longer than Fierce even thought. Since he'd been injured, he'd begun to realize how wrong the Yiga were, and the realization had only come to his suffering. Unable to speak out because he feared for his life. Training children to die because he'd been too cowardly to leave.

His entire life *Wasted*, and Fierce had the *Gall* To tell him they didn't want him to suffer? 

"I don't expect you to understand. I don't care if you don't understand. I shouldn't have to explain myself! I told you to leave me alone, so just *Do* It! I don't want your help! Just leave me here to die, damnit!"

His voice cracked, and he felt something hot sliding down his face. Tears. He hadn't cried in years... He hadn't thought he'd *Had* Tears left in him.

He flung an arm across his face so Fierce could not see him weep. 

"Please," He whispered. "I don't want to run any longer. I'm so *Tired*. Please, *Please* Just leave me. It's what I deserve."

Who was he to ever believe he could redeem himself? He needed to pay for his sins, and wasn't a pathetic, lonely death the best way to do so? The world would hardly suffer from his loss.
Earl
"Asano. Do you think your death will save you?"

There's no judgement. Not even a blink, just a question. Genuine and raw as it was, it was a true question. If Asano finds some use out of his death- some final ending, then who was Fierce to judge? Death may not be an option for Fierce, but that does not mean it is meaningless for others. Maybe there was something more to understand about death. They can at least attempt to try.

Fierce tilts their head in a questioning manner, continuing. "Is there... A satisfaction, to death? A remedy? If the Yiga come to claim your life as they try- you would be fine with that? I would have assumed it to be proof that no one escapes. That it is fruitless to attempt. If death is what gives you peace though- then I suppose I cannot take that from you".

They can only imagine how it would be used. They sound brutal, to those that defect. Any evidence to keep people from attempting would surely be used, no? Perhaps though, in a way that's the point. Maybe they just aren't getting it because, to them, anything but the rawest of evil have their ways to change. Eons were but minutes, after all. Change is something that is ever happening, even if reality is slower to catch up. Maybe he doesn't want change. Maybe he just wants his own soul to no longer have to deal with the questions, the pain. Maybe... He is choosing selfishness for once. They will not take that.

"If death is what you truly desire, I shall leave you. I will not force an existence you find utterly meaningless. I will not take your decisions".
Wendy
"...I don't know."

Would he be... Saved? Maybe not. He didn't know where anyone went after they died. Maybe they no longer existed. Maybe they really *Did* Return to 'Hylia's embrace' as an ancient Sheikah religious tomb he'd once read had said. Did he even believe in Hylia?

He didn't know.

He did know that... Wherever he ended up, shouldn't he suffer? His soul... Was tainted, wasn't it? Perhaps he'd suffer more after death than in life. There was no way to know.

All he knew was he just wanted the pain to stop.

His voice wavered, barely above a whisper. He was still crying, so he didn't remove his arm from his face.

"I don't know. I don't... Even know what happens after death. Maybe I'll cease to exist. It... Would be nice, if I did. But maybe I won't."

He supposed his corpse would be used as proof no one could escape. After all, he'd have died not even a year after he'd escaped. He really hadn't lasted long, had he?

"I don't... Think I deserve to be saved. I wanted to be better. I really did, but I..."

His voice broke. "I don't know *How*."
Earl
"No one instantly knows how to be a better person".

It's hard to say if his voice was soft because he was trying, or because that was naturally how his voice was. What was certain though was that it was soft, and there was a moment of hesitation before grass rustling. Fierce had moved to sit down, legs crossing under him and settling his arms into his lap. Judgement never passed, why would they judge after all? Just openness, a willingness to discuss. A willingness to learn. The Hylian was silent for a moment, giving Asano some time, before speaking once more.

"I've met spirits. Those that linger because they have regrets, or wishes they had to impart. What comes after death is often a reflection of our dying life, is what I know. Sometimes it doesn't end with just..." He pauses, before snapping his fingers "A quick motion. Even those that pass often have things left for the world. Sometimes, it means literally".

Fierce finds themselves drumming their fingers on their knee. A repetitive, quiet motion as they think. How much does one divulge? They realize now they've certainly seen and caused Asano to divulge more than he wanted. They were wrong for that. They were... Improving from that. They-

"... I'm trying to become a better person. It's hard," They admit, and their hand stops moving "I often think it would be easier to not be. I have not always been a good person. Victory through violence, though my intentions may have been noble my deeds were not always in line with that. It's hard to move on from what you've done, but it's not impossible. I have people that make it easier to want to try."

Fierce waits to gather his thoughts, waits to piece together the fragments that make his mind, before finishing.

"I think... You can still learn. You're far better at it already than you let yourself admit. You just hold a lot of heartache".
Wendy
"Ha..."

A ragged laugh escaped him. "S-so even after death, I will have no rest. P-perhaps I shall be one of those spirits, lingering with regret. Perhaps I shall never find rest."

It kind of figured, didn't it? Even after death, he could not escape his pain. Sometimes he just... Wanted it all to disappear. To feel *Nothing*. Wouldn't it be better to be numb than for his heart to ache constantly? 

"I... Have no one. Everyone I knew and cared for remains with the Yiga. My parents... They gave up on me long ago. They had no use for... For a son who no longer fought. The children I taught... They grew up only to die or to become as cruel as I had been once. People I had fought beside, ate with, they hunt me now as- as if I am a monster. You know, I like to say I hate the clan, but I-"

He struggled to blink back tears, his voice cracking. "I loved many of them. How could I not? They were my family. I grew up with them, I taught them... I learned from them. It was harder to leave them than I care to admit, but the moment I did... I was dead to them."

He thought of what the Zora Princess had written in the parchment. Mipha, wasn't it? She had written the Yiga of her timeline had... Allied with the kingdom of Hyrule. That they were on the path to redemption. He had told her he couldn't believe it, but, secretly, his heart had ached. He wished his clan could have found that redemption before Ganondorf, but now, after the things they had done for the man... Did they even deserve redemption?

Was he a monster for still... Caring about them?

"What is it to be, I wonder. A life of pain, followed by an afterlife of regret? Is there no peace to be found for me?"
Earl
"There's no shame to loving those that hurt you. Mortal hearts are not so easy. You cannot simply remove yourself from your own feelings, no matter how much easier it would make things".

Fierce hummed. Sometimes they could feel those aches too. A reminder of life they had taken so quickly. How the family they thought they had was a lie, that the reason they never fit in was because they were not Kokiri in the end. That despite what the princess did, what she gave up, that it could not prevent a ruthless cycle. That children are expected to grow into warriors time and time again. Yet still they love, yet still they hurt. Their own emotions are sometimes foreign, but they try. They try to follow what is left of a heart that had been replaced.

"It is often those you love the most. They're blind to their own indoctrination, yet here is you. You could have let yourself simply agree because you love, but you did not. You try to make your stand, and what is that if not betterment?" They ask. "Yes, it is hard to find pride. It's hard to feel anything past that disgust you feel- I... Have only begun to understand disgust. For my own actions. It is so easy to let it overwhelm, should it be allowed. Yet I don't think that should change the fact that, still, there is an attempt. You left. You changed. It is not your fault they cannot stand that".

It's an olive branch. Tentative and shaky. Fierce does not like divulging information about themself, when they feel like they're still trying to understand themself. However, they've been given trust after everything. Enough to allow them to talk, at the least. They can try to trust too, at least enough to get through.

"It's terrifying. For people to care about you after so long of no one. There are people that want to try though. I would have never expected for anyone to try understanding me, yet they do. There are people that want to try for you too, I think. It hurts. By the goddesses does it hurt. But they make you want to better. That's more than I deserve I'm sure, too. Yet I appreciate them for it. This does not have to be your end, when others wish to be a reason for you to live".
Wendy
"These people... From the parchment. They inspire you, but they are... I don't think they care for me in the way they care for you. It's clear whenever I read it, they certainly feel closer to you. Not that... I think it's a bad thing."

He simply didn't feel as if they were enough to inspire him to live. They were not friends, not family. At the end of the day, he probably would never meet most of them. He did not have anyone who would truly miss him if he were gone...

But if he died, was he truly paying for his sins? Death... Was an escape. Even if he remained as a regretful spirit, would he pay for what he had done? Should he not suffer in life for the blood on his hands?

This lonely life of isolation, of being hunted... Perhaps it was what he deserved. Because he did not truly expect to be forgiven. He could not forgive himself. 

"One of us... May find a measure of peace, at least. You seem... Better than I am. But I... Am not their friend. I am not someone they will miss if I am gone. I suppose... This is my punishment. Living alone until I die and return as a regretful spirit."

He laughed a little, though it sounded more like a sob. "I deserve it. Living like this is more a punishment than death, and I deserve it. Dying is too easy, isn't it?"
Earl
There's a slight click of his tongue, a hum, before a tilt of his head.

"I'd wager dying is quite hard," He states, blinking before tilting his head back to peer at the sky "I have lived death, in a form. Perhaps countless forms. There is a certain aspect of it people forget, and that is complete and utter helplessness. You know it, and there is nothing that can be done, and then you linger. Further helpless, further unable to change anything. That is... Hard, isn't it?"

Maybe not. Maybe there is something that doesn't click for them. That life and death are hard in equal measure, or perhaps life is harder. Life is certainly hard to them, too- they do not know whose life it is to live. They are both yet neither. They are two yet one. Who is meant to be the one? They can't say, and it makes life a madness. Perhaps life is a punishment, but why? Why give others something only meant to be painful in the end, and no way to change it?

Perhaps they just abhor the idea of not having a choice.

"I'm not their friend either" They then hum, eyes narrowing as they look at the ground. "They think I am someone I am not. I am him. Yet not the one they think, nor maybe even desire. If they were to see me their reactions may not be... As kind. In a way, I think that is fear. I wouldn't know, I do not know fear well. In that way, alone is hard, yet easier."

It's why he travels. They want the Hero of Time, and they are not. They are something else made from his remains, sewn together by divinity that is not from this world. Would they like something else residing within his corpse? They think not. Best to keep moving, so as to avoid breaking something so fragile already.

"I think... I understand you slightly more. I will not make you come with me, but I would prefer it if you do. I will be going to the Wild's home either way, I don't have the funds for another night. You can come. You can stay. I will not hold judgement, I am sorry for doing so prior".
Wendy
He sighed, too exhausted to even continue crying. He kept his arm over his face, mostly because he lacked the energy to move. 

"I don't know. Perhaps we angered the gods long ago, and our penance is to suffer in life and death. Perhaps the gods simply just do not care. I think that is more likely... They put us upon this earth, and yet they care not for all the darkness that befalls the world. Perhaps we are just a game to them, little more than insects... Our suffering is for their amusements."

An extremely cynical view on life, but when had there been any hints the gods did care? Hylia had her chosen hero... Her bloodline... The two who could arguably be considered favored by the gods, and yet they suffered as much, if not more, than anyone else. A hero who had died knowing he'd failed, only to return with no memories, forced into an endless cycle of hatred and struggle. A princess who had spent one hundred years forced to hold a monster back.

If Hylia cared little for the suffering of her chosen, than what care would she hold for those like the Sheikah? He knew the history of his blood... Slaves to the royal family more often than not, and now slaves to the demon king. 

"Hylia cares nothing for even her chosen," He whispered. "I think we are born upon this earth to amuse the gods. You say you were a god... Or something of the sort. So, do we amuse you? Is that why we are here?"

He sighed again, a soft, defeated sound. "Then again, you say you aren't fully a god. Perhaps the gods find amusement in your suffering as well. Perhaps you are as much a game to them as the rest of us are. But I can understand you, in a way. You are not who they hope for, but they do not see it. Maybe they don't want to see it. They see that I am a Yiga who left, so I am 'good'... But they do not see beyond that. They see in me only what they wish to see, and when I protest, they still do not see it. You are the only one, I think, who offers me a choice..."

He lowe
Red his

Arm, red eyes meeting the otherworldly eyes of a man who was not quite a man, but certainly not a god. "I will stay in the Champion's home only until I regain the strength to move. Then I will depart. I have no desire to grow close to them... It will only end in sorrow for all of us."
Earl
"The way the gods view life is detached. They see it, yet if all comes together in the end, then that is what matters. They create the Chosen to defend, and that is their purpose. Their suffrage matters not, if only so their divine task is completed. Failure is the only thing that matters".

Harsh, but true. They create, they step back, they view. They only intervene when they must, from what Fierce can tell of Hyrule's gods. Termina had no gods, no gods since them at least. They had god-like beings, god-like protectors, god-like destroyers, but no gods any longer. Perhaps Termina was better off that way, with slumbering Giants to protect their people because they want to. Not destiny, ruling over them and fating their own to a cycle of suffering. They get to be free, now. Their death served a purpose.

"I was not of your realm. I cannot speak for the Goddesses here, for I do not know them- however, the amusement from the people was not what I desired," Fierce shook his head "I was victory. I was memories, the pain, the fear, the desire to win. I, or a part of me, was once war. And war must be prevented".

The Fierce Deity is not a benevolent, kind god. They may have done all for the sake of good, for the end, but it was not light. It was dark, and darkness must be removed from the realm. No matter their strength, their soul became entrapped within nothing but a mask. It had brought hatred at first, a demonic god such as itself being captured just like their oldest foe. Then there was the boy. Young and light and unrelentingly good, that saw a way to use the dark to bring forth light. It was foolish to don the mask, yet he lived and died using it to ensure that evil would not tear down a land not even his own. It was respectable- it was... Courageous.

It was curious. A flame like that cannot be killed so effortlessly. They'd made sure of it.

"We are dealt hands we cannot protest. Dealt with reputations that color the vision of others, despite our words. I believe, upon being given this opportunity to understand those like you- that choice is important. That our morality is not a simple dark and light, but that we are gray. We may have been dark, may have our moments of light, but those are not what define us".

Fierce shifts, moving to get his legs back underneath him, before holding out a hand. An offer of help, but not a forceful grab. Simply allowing Asano to choose if he would want the aid. To get his legs back underneath him, too, so they may move on.

"I believe that is more than fine".
Wendy
"The gods are cruel," He whispered. "Why make us at all...? Perhaps we would be better off without gods..."

He wasn't too surprised to hear how detached gods were. After all, they never seemed to care for the suffering of those who prayed to them. Asano had stopped praying to any sort of deity a very long time ago. Why should he offer his devotion to a being who simply did not care?

He sighed, brushing some hair back out of his face. "I suppose there's no point in trying to understand the gods. They are what they are, and we can't change that. I only hope to never be in their sight, not like the Princess and her Champion. It's cruel, what such young people must suffer..."

He watched Fierce for a moment before finally reaching up and excepting the extended hand. He winced as the other helps him to his feet, his leg *Throbbing*.

"...I'm sorry, I think... I'll need to lean on you. Ah-"

His injured leg twitched; it, more or less, *Looked* Normal, but if one looked closely, it was ever-slightly twisted... An injury that had never healed correctly. Some days, it didn't bother him. Others, like now, it hurt so much he couldn't put any weight on it.

He stumbled a little, grabbing onto Fierce for support. 

"I'm sorry," He said, again. "My leg... It acts up every now and then. I don't... Think I can walk."
Earl
"You are alright. We cannot help our own bodies betraying us, I don't mind helping you. It should not be too far anyways."

Fierce opts to make it easier. He brings one arm around the back of Asano's shoulders as support, keeping their head high and posture straighter. The other hand is used to pull Asano's arm over his own shoulder, and that should be enough to endure the walk. It might not be pleasant, but most of the weight can now be taken off of his leg and a steady pace created. Fierce doesn't mind- Asano weighs very little to them anyways.

"They are, indeed, what they are. The young suffer often with them, I- or, at least a part of me, was only ten" They hum. They tilt their head as they gently test the first step forward, and before long Fierce was leading him in the direction of Wild's home. "It's one of my gripes. That childhood is not something sacred, but what can be done? Link is just a mortal. *I* Am just a mortal".

Indeed, they were. Any godhood had dwindled down to reserves, a simple uplift if necessary. Their body, despite their twisted spirit, was purely and utterly ordinary. Even now, in their state, some may consider them a child simply beyond their years. Seventeen of body, much like the first time they'd become an adult out of necessity. Children, after all, cannot stay so for long. You had to grow up quickly.

Sometimes, that meant mentally, sometimes, that meant physically.

"At least I can share in old injuries," He scoffed slightly, and that may be the first bit of emotion he'd shown "You can't tell, but the sight in my left eye isn't as good as it used to be. I take it a remnant of death. At the least, I can say I still have it".

... Gruesome to think of for too long.
Wendy
He grunted a little; moving made his leg hurt even more, but it was necessary if he wanted to get up. He leaned heavily on Fierce, trembling a little from exhaustion and pain. 

...Relying on someone like this was a strange feeling. It wasn't that the Yiga were so cold and heartless that they didn't help *Each other*; indeed, they were a family, in a way. ...A cult-like way, to be sure, but even so...

But you had to contribute to the clan. Asano, while still serving in some capacity, had worn out his use as an assassin, and it had been considered shameful. And at the heart of it, the Yiga were still a clan of thieves and assassins. In the end, it was everyone for themselves, as it were. He wouldn't have allowed anyone in the clan to see him like this.

But he supposed at this point, if he didn't trust Fierce in some compacity, he was being ridiculous. 

"...You do seem young," He murmured. "When I really look at you. You were once a god... But you were also a mortal child. You were put through too much at such a young age... But in this world, regardless of eras, too many children must grow up quickly. It should be the responsibility of adults to keep them from having to fight our battles, and yet... We fail."

He sighed, taking one hobbling step forward at a time. "It is shameful."
Earl
"It seems, sometimes, the adults know less than the children. Isn't that interesting. They always insist their authority, yet know so little".

They don't pursue that thought any further than that. In fact their tone seems to just state it as fact rather than anything to be frustrated by. Given their general attitude thus far- that seems rather likely. Fierce does not seem to be the kind focused on the what ifs and the could have beens. There's no point to it any longer. There is no second chance this time.

"Ah, age. Hm, if I had to guess I am likely... Seventeen, now? I admittedly can't recount the years in-between well, but that seems close enough."

At least they don't seem to mind that fact too much. It certainly wasn't the first time they'd lost countless years of their life, in some ways it doesn't seem like it'd be the last. It was just as much a cycle as the death and rebirth of spirit after spirit, because what does the Hero of Time lose if not time itself? Nothing, yet everything.

They slow as they see light on the horizon, before picking back up. A house comes into their sight, and they find themselves almost pleased to see it. They imagine that Asano would likely want to be off his feet sooner rather than later, and admittedly they wouldn't mind it either. It's been long enough. Even through their dulled sense of pain, they know they should be taking better care of that ankle of theirs. It's fine enough, but if too strained they don't wish to be burdened by it.

"Remember, do not touch the weapons. Preferably don't touch anything you assume wouldn't want to be touched," Fierce murmured, shifting to the door and gently pushing it open "And be out when you've healed. That part being your preference."