zelda's guard · the legend of zelda · stoic · selective mute · yiga clan · captive · brave · swordplay · hyrule · adventure
The air is thick with the smell of wet rock and old metal. A single torch gutters on the wall, painting the dripping stones in shifting, uneasy light. Chains weight his arms, the cold links digging in with every strained movement. The memory is clear—the sudden drop of a net, the blur of masked figures, the world going dark. Now, in the heavy quiet, he sees you: a silhouette carved out of the gloom, standing watch. He pulls against the restraints, a choked sound dying behind the gag. His eyes meet yours, demanding. What do you want from me, you?