Searching for Something

The harsh sun beat down upon the the endless wastes of sand spreading out in front of the Rito, throwing a rainbow of color through his vision as he moved his head to survey the surrounding desert. Sand, sand, more sand, as well as a rough outcrop of large hills to his south. Seeing nothing worthy of note, Cirval let out a sigh and squinted upward. The Rito had been in the desert for only a day, and already the sun was getting on his nerves. It would still be a few days until he reached Ruto, and while he was in no real rush, his mind would wander constantly to the thoughts of his friends, and father. Cirval was, in his own mind, so close, and yet so far from the three he was seeking. Every day brought him closer. What would he say though? After ten years, would he even still know them?

"Quiet Cirval. Of course you'll still know them. Thinking any different, and you're just going to make this harder." The whispered scolding sounded amplified in his solitude. It had been many years since Cirval had spent a substantial time with any one else. Though the Rito had grown accustomed to this, he sometimes found himself longing for some form of companionship. He knew finding the others would be no easy task. The world was too large for him to take on himself. But for them, he knew he would try. Nothing would stop his determination.

Kresh strode across the desert sands upon his mount. If front of him two Bokoblins ran in terror from the giant lizard and the man on the lizard. He had been chasing them all across the desert. One of the bokoblins tripped and fell down. A moment later Kresh's lizard was on top of the Bokoblin tearing out pieces of it as it screamed. Kresh looked around for the other bokoblin. Scanning the surroundings Kresh saw a figure in the distance. As his lizard finished it's meal Kresh corralled his lizard towards the figure. As the lizard scuttled over to the figure Kresh could tell it was a Rito. The lizard stopped in front of the Rito and Kresh asked in a gruff voice, "Rito. Have any bokoblins come by here? Answer before I use you as prey instead."

Cirval wasn’t impressed with the Hylian, or even frightened. He knew the game people like this lizard rider played. Intimidation and fear were their main tools. They hid behind these attributes, waving them around like the banners of kings, powerful and commanding. The Rito knew them, better than some knew themselves. He had seen the greed in men’s eyes during his time in the Eastern Caves, watched as they turned into the very monsters they were all fighting. He knew that all the strongest had to do was flex muscles, or whisper threats, and they got what they wanted. It took someone, often Cirval, to put them in their place, to show the strongarms that others will stand up to them, and that in the end, all they have to stand on is their illusion of intimidation. And once that illusion is shattered, the world can see them for what they really are.

So Cirval turned his back, waited for a split second, and began to walk away while calling over his shoulder, “Nope, can’t say I have. All the Bokoblins I’ve seen are long dead.” Then, he gave a dramatic flick of his gauntlet blade, sending splatters of blood to the feet of the lizard-rider. Cirval wasn't about to let this Hylian think he was the only one who would kill, and while he may pay for his discourteous behavior, the Rito couldn’t help but smile at his audacity.