Chapter Text
Paya’s first memories are of fire.
She knows of things that happened before it, of course. Hazy recollections of her parents, of warmth and safety. Child that she was, little Paya never noticed the danger they were in.
But then the fire came.
Her memories of that day are fresh in her mind even now, all these years later. The way her parents had screamed. The frightened look in her father’s eyes as he told her and her mother to run, to get out of town, to get away as fast as they could.
Little Paya had not understood. She had screamed, had wailed and sobbed and struggled as her mother dragged her away, out of the burning house and into the burning Kakariko.
The whole town was alight. It was a Yiga Clan raid, not that little Paya understood that at the time. She did understand that there were Sheikah warriors fighting strangers- even children understood when people were fighting. Still, little Paya did not care; she was too busy crying out for her father. They had left him inside the burning house. She didn’t understand why. Children do not understand assassins.
She could hear her father yelling. That was clear. She understood that he was in trouble. She understood that she and her mother were fleeing instead of helping him. She did not understand why. Little Paya did not consider the possibility that her and her mother would simply be killed if they stayed. Children do not understand death.
Her father stopped yelling.
A figure emerged from the house.
They were tall, clad in red, and wearing a mask with an inverted eye on it. Little Paya did not understand. She had not heard of the Yiga Clan before.
Her mother put her down, and told her to run.
Little Paya did not understand. But she had never disobeyed her mother. So she ran, as fast as she could.
But she was only a child.
She did not turn around when she heard her mother scream, but she stumbled. She did not stop when adults reached for her, called for her, told her to stop running, but she was frightened. She slowed, and she tripped, and eventually she fell, under the burning gate just outside of town.
Someone caught up to her there, beneath the wreath of flames.
The tall man, in all red, with the mask. The one her mother had stopped to speak to.
Little Paya did not understand what had happened, so she cried out. She tried to wriggle away. She tried to keep running.
But the stranger told her he was a friend of her parents. He told her, softly, kindly, that they had asked him to take her somewhere safe, and that Kakariko was not safe, not now and not ever. He told her that her parents were not coming, and that it was the fault of the Sheikah. Her parents had been part of this strange clan, with their red uniforms and masks. He told her he would take her somewhere where she could be safe, and train to be a warrior, and make her parents proud.
And little Paya understood.
It had taken her a long time to get here, to track down the Hero. Last they’d heard of him, he was in Kakariko- and it wasn’t safe for Yiga in Kakariko. Dorian had passed the information on out in the woods, where there was less risk of being seen.
Paya still wasn’t sure what to think of Dorian. He was only working with them under duress, so he was not loyal to the Yiga, but surely anyone protecting their family couldn’t be all bad, even a Sheikah. He had worked for them willingly, once- she’s sure he could be a great Yiga, if only he would see that they were right. They would protect his daughters, like the Yiga had protected her.
Whether or not he was truly loyal, he was useful, and so the Yiga knew the Hero had been around Kakariko. Paya had been sent to follow him. After the last Footsoldier came back beaten and bloody, Master Kohga had known they’d have to send someone better. And as Master Kohga’s personal student, she was the best of the best. She had to be.
She had caught up to the Hero near Outskirt Stable, but it wasn’t safe to attack there. Too many foolish civilians who wouldn’t understand. Things would be much easier if the world understood, but things had never been easy for Paya.
Still, she had lucky breaks. The Hero was climbing Satori Mountain. It was usually deserted, due to the rumours about the spirit of the mountain. But spirits were rare sights, and they appeared more often at night. As long as she was off the mountain by sunset, Paya wasn’t concerned.
And she would be off the mountain soon. As soon as she killed the Hero.
She breathed as quietly as possible. She was concealed behind a cherry tree, but the Hero had good spatial awareness. He had to, to have defeated so many Yiga before her. He hadn’t killed any yet- they’d all had enough talismans to escape- but she was sure he was capable of it. It would be easy for him to justify it as self defense. The Sheikah had killed her parents for less.
The Hero hummed as he harvested carrots. He seemed off his guard- that was good. It meant she wouldn’t have to waste talismans teleporting into this fight.
Paya took a deep breath and attacked.
The Hero leapt away.
So, perhaps he wasn’t as off his guard as he seemed. That was fine. She was ready for this.
She lunged after him.
He twisted out of the way, drawing a sword and shield. They were easily recognizable- Sheikah weapons, an Eightfold Blade and a Shield of the Mind’s Eye. Paya grinned under her mask. Perfect.
Every Yiga was well trained in countering exactly those weapons.
She sliced at him. He parried, and she grit her teeth and swung again- Vicious Sickles were sharp enough to slice through that shield, if she got the angle right.
He blocked. Good. Not quite the angle she was going for, but she sheared a chunk off his shield, exposing part of his face. Very good.
She swung at that exposed area.
He backflipped.
…Not what she was expecting him to do. And the speed he retaliated with! It was absurd.
He slammed the pommel of his blade into her stomach. She wheezed as he drew back- that spot was armored, but it would leave quite the bruise.
He could have impaled her, in that moment. Why hadn’t he? Perhaps he thought she’d dodge. It would have taken him a moment longer to strike forwards like that. Lucky her. But she might not be lucky twice. This fight was already getting too risky.
Paya accessed the power of her talismans.
The Hero whirled around as she teleported, but not quite quickly enough. She left a long gash along his side, and he hissed through his teeth.
Good.
She sliced again, aiming for his sword arm this time. If she could disarm him, this would be easy.
Nothing was ever easy for Paya.
He leapt to one side, and once again swiftly attacked, swinging his blade straight at her. If she moved, it would only be a graze. If she blocked, she could hit him back.
She teleported again.
Appearing directly above him, Paya swung down. It worked- she buried her sickle in his unarmored shoulder.
The Hero cried out as he twisted back, making a horrible noise as the sickle tore free. Blood splattered onto her mask. Paya repressed a shudder. Now was not the time to be squeamish.
His sword arm shook as he readied himself again, blood soaking his Hylian Tunic. Good. Very good.
She swung again. He feinted backwards- she stumbled, her momentum leading her into open air.
He lashed out, lightning-quick, and slashed through her uniform and toward her ribs. But he’d barely broken the skin when she teleported again.
Master Kohga had always said she relied too much on teleporting. And Master Kohga was always right. But she’d be dead by now if she wasn’t teleporting so much. This way, she could still win.
She lunged from behind him. He twisted, and she left a long, thin gash along his side. Paya put as much force as possible into her next swing- she was right there. One hit away from a potentially fatal wound. She aimed for his face.
The Hero brought up his shield, and her sickle sliced straight into it. So close, so close.
He yanked his shield to one side. Momentum diverted, her sickle was pulled away, and he wasn’t hit.
She was so close. She teleported again. But Master Kohga had been right. He was always right. She was over reliant on it. He had told her it made her predictable. And he was right.
The Hero whirled around, shield already raised, as she swung. Instead of hitting him in the back of the neck, as she’d intended, her sickle hit his shield again. But he was ready this time.
Quick as a flash, he struck out at her with his shield.
She was not in a good position to deal with that.
There was a crack as her wrist twisted in a way it was not supposed to twist. Pain shot through her arm, and worst of all, her sickle went spinning from her grasp, and flying away. And then down. And down. And down.
It would probably be at the bottom of Tamio River soon.
Paya lurched back, instinctively grabbing her broken wrist with her uninjured hand. This was bad. Without a weapon, her odds of winning this fight were low.
But there was a chance. There was still a chance.
His sword arm was injured. He was holding his blade loosely in that hand. She could steal it. There was a chance.
She would not go back a failure.
Paya teleported again. This time, right into the Hero’s personal space.
She grabbed for his sword.
He tightened his grip on it and swung the pommel into the side of her head.
There was a crack sound, again. This time, it seemed it was only her mask, cracking along the edge. Hopefully, it was only her mask. Her head stung. Her ears rang. She stumbled back, and fumbled for the power of her talismans, again.
Nothing happened.
The Hero swung again- she didn’t dodge in time, and the blade struck her mask. It must have been severely cracked, because it shattered- splinters of it flew across the pond, and most of it fell off her face in pieces.
Bad. Very bad. Very very bad.
She tried her talismans again. And again, nothing happened. She was out- the exact situation every Yiga was cautioned against. Only a fool would run out of talismans during a fight.
Paya was still calculating her next move when the Hero struck her again. Not with much force- he could have killed her, but instead he shoved her with his shield, a push barely strong enough to knock her over.
But it knocked her over.
Before she could get up, there was a sword at her throat. Not good. She was collapsed in a pond, water soaking into her damaged uniform, unquestionably at the mercy of the Hero.
The Hero and his allies didn’t have mercy. If they did, her parents would still be alive.
It seemed she’d be seeing them soon. She hoped they would forgive her for failing to complete their mission. But she would not die a coward.
Paya tilted her chin up and looked the Hero in the eyes, ready to meet her death with dignity.