The Guardian's eye cracked open.
The instructions had led it wrong.
It was in pain . It hadn't known pain since it lost its creators forever.
Closing its eye for a moment, it wished it could breathe, could speak, so that it could scream its agony to the world, but it could not. It could only sit there, four of its legs missing and slowly drifting along the river, at the whims of its eddies and currents, swept along in its gentle flow.
The instructions had led it wrong. Its creators had designed it to defend others, as far back as it could remember. When it had been a protector, it had been praised and decorated by children and adults. There had even been a festival based around them, and they were polished until their carvings shone.
Lit up in red, staying in the corner of its vision, still read the same words. "Kill the hero."
But it couldn't. It hadn't been able to.
Because, as it suspected, the hero had not been evil. The battle had started well enough. It had fired a laser, and the hero had dodged. So it fired again, moving closer, and the hero deflected the shot. With a pot lid. A pot lid.
Stunned by the sheer impossibility of it, the Guardian had been unable to avoid the hero's aim as he drew a bow crafted from simple sticks and twine. Few arrows would leave a scratch on its surface. This had not been one of them.
The instructions had led it wrong. The hero had fired a blinding arrow made from Guardian materials and pure light, and had struck the Guardian just next to its eye. The Guardian didn't remember what came after that. But the instructions had led it wrong...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Movement.
Slow, thudding movement as it bumped against a grassy knoll, one three-toed leg holding onto the side of the river with all the strength the Guardian had left.
Its eye opened once again, the light dimming.
It was running out of power. Whatever strange forces operating inside its delicate and yet powerful depths were leaking from the sockets of its missing legs.
Ordinarily, it would slowly build new ones over time and then release them when it was ready, but it was taking a colossal amount of energy just to make sure it wasn't swept downstream.
Closing its eye, it focused its attention on its instructions list. It had been flickering rather worryingly for... a day? Two days? The Guardian wasn't sure how long it'd been lying there anymore, only that it was tired.
It hadn't known it could get tired, but it was indeed very tired.
It heard something, and its eye slogged open once more. Colors were beginning to blur together, but it could still comprehend what it was seeing, limited as its vision was.
Something with two legs. Two arms, probably. A shock of alarm spread through the Guardian. It was another Hylian! Was it the hero? Was there more than one hero?
It was so startled, it lost its grip on the riverbank. Clutching at the dirt, it scrabbled for purchase and didn't find it. Right as it started floating away, a loop of some rough material wrapped around its limb, and it jolted to a stop.
Whatever it was that had halted its momentum, a strong force began to pull on the loop, gradually pulling the Guardian out of the water and onto the dirt.
The Guardian closed its eye.
It was so tired...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Searing energy roared down one of the Guardian's legs, sending ricocheting sparks of eclectic lightning hurtling through its system. Its eye snapped open as it reeled, every instrument in its body clattering and chiming in the closest thing to a scream the Guardian could manage.
The sudden shock died down as quickly as it had come, settling deeply in every corner of its body, recharging it and replenishing it as effectively as a Durian fruit might for a human. Blinking repeatedly, it ran a quick check to make sure everything was working properly, and managed to go through the full process before realizing a critical problem.
Its instructions were gone.
The Guardian tried to stand up and failed, one leg pushing at the ground and driving a mound of grass and dirt upwards. It was still missing four legs, evidently.
With no method of moving and no instructions to direct it, the Guardian settled for scanning its surroundings.
One of its legs had been propped up, one claw shoved ungainly into a control slot for a Slate, which was attached to a small shrine crafted from familiar materials. The Guardian would recognize its creators' design anywhere, even if the shrine was most assuredly not similar to a Guardian in purpose.
Rotating its dome with a horrific screech, the Guardian observed where it was. The shrine next to it was seated atop a slight incline, a steep mountain rising just behind it and a forest growing off to the side. Below the hill was a rustic Hylian village, although not one the Guardian recognized. The village spread and looped around in a confusing lack of pattern, a series of swooping roofs atop squat buildings looming over a small stream, which flowed from a tall waterfall nearby. The Guardian could spot Hylians walking around, doing their daily business as they needed.
Someone spoke, and the Guardian's dome rotated sharply. There was an ancient Hylian before it, wearing a white robe and a dark covering over the robe. Her snow-white hair was tucked in two simple buns on the side of her head, put underneath a wide, circular hat. Her eyes were wizened, and yet somehow humorous at the same time. She spoke again, and the Guardian's eye tilted on its axis. What was she saying?
Chuckling, the woman put a finger to her chin, then snapped her fingers. Clearing her throat, she spoke haltingly in the tongue of the Guardian's creators.
"Hello, Guardian. My name is Impa. Welcome to Kakariko Village."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The Guardian was surprised.
The language of its creators was old. Ancient, in fact. Old enough that it made even the Guardian's oldest and most treasured memory seem infantile in comparison, and the Guardian had been present for a long time. It was curious to the Guardian as to how this Hylian elder knew how to speak it, so it waited.
Impa, hunched over and leaning on a small stick, smiled at the Guardian. "Truly, it has been a long time since I could safely approach one of your kind, Guardian. It is an honor."
The Guardian blinked its eye in response. Without its other legs, it couldn't nod its dome as it would ordinarily, so a blink would have to do. With a sudden thought, it attempted to use its instruments to play a more cheerful sound. All that came out was a mangled chorus of grinding parts, and even the Guardian winced at the sound. Evidently some repairs were needed there too.
Impa had recoiled slightly at the sound, unsure of the Guardian's intentions, but when no red indicator appeared, she relaxed once more. She made a light laugh, and the Guardian blinked again. If she was indeed scared, she was very good at hiding it.
Leaning on her stick and walking forward, Impa hesitated, then asked, "If I may, might I touch your surface? Your kind is of a craft and quality all its own."
Its eye narrowed briefly. It wasn't sure of her intentions either, but it could hardly walk around blasting everything senselessly. It would be better to have allies than enemies, especially as her village had brought the Guardian all this way to a shrine to be repaired.
Struggling to lift its free leg, the Guardian dragged it across the ground, digging a small trench in the process. To her credit, Impa stayed perfectly still. Pulling the leg in her direction, the Guardian raised it, then dropped it in front of her, claw open wide. Somewhat breathless, Impa bowed, then gently laid her wrinkled and gnarly hand on its claw.
The Guardian closed its eye. It had missed company, even if it wasn't its creators.
Drawing her hand back, Impa smiled. "Guardian, I may have a suggestion to make."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sitting down with her legs crossed, Impa put her stick on her lap, folding her hands on top of it. "Guardian, we have many farmers and few warriors." She chuckled, more to herself than anything. "The fiercest fighters here are likely Cado's Cucco."
The Guardian blinked. What was it supposed to do to that? It could hardly laugh, and the joke wasn't funny either way.
Impa seemed to pick up on the Guardian's uncertainty, and coughed, continuing in her train of thought. "I was once quite the formidable fighter, a bodyguard to Princess Zelda herself."
That name the Guardian recognized. The princess of Hyrule had been named Zelda for even longer than the Guardian could remember. To be her protector would require incredible skill and strength - the Guardian could hardly believe this frail Hylian had once been such a powerful individual.
She went on, unaware of the Guardian's newfound respect for her. "It may take some time for you to repair yourself, but I would ask that you protect our simple village." Standing slowly, one hand going to her lower back, Impa bent in a bow. "Guardian, please. I will beg if I must, but Bokoblin patrols approach ever closer to Kakariko, and I fear I may not have the strength to fight them away. We are few in number, Guardian. There is little I can offer you, except our respect and our love."
The Guardian considered what she was saying, running it over in its mechanical mind. It still had to repair much of its inner workings and limbs, and it wasn't sure what it was supposed to do if the hero arrived at Kakariko Village.
In reality, it had already made its decision. It wasn't called a Guardian because it was merciless, although it certainly was ruthless in the execution of its justice.
Raising its leg once more, it slammed it in the ground in front of Impa, and the ground shook from the force. Startled, Impa looked up at the Guardian. "Have I offended you in some way? I assure you, it was not..." She trailed off as the Guardian's dome slowly rotated, a grinding sound coming from its base as it did. Its red indicator flicked on, wavering and flickering briefly as the Guardian aimed at the distant entrance of Kakariko Village, a passage between the sheer cliffs to its sides.
The message was clear. The Guardian would accept Impa's offer.
With a force of will, the Guardian added an objective to its list.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was dark.
The Guardian's gaze was still fixed upon the entrance to Kakariko, although its red indicator had long since turned off. The steady supply of power coming from the shrine seemed limitless, and the Guardian wondered just how deep it really was.
It was a patient being. Guardians needed neither food, water, or rest and could battle for literally an eternity, provided they weren't damaged sufficiently. In the Guardian's case, it had survived by a fraction of a fraction of a hair. It could only imagine what would have happened if the hero had struck its eye with that Guardian-made arrow.
A faint sound registered, and its attention deviated away from the entrance, towards a small child standing nearby. The child was dressed in a very long white shirt, had her short brown hair in a mess around her shoulders, and was clutching a miniature boar made from cloth and stuffing. Walking up to the Guardian fearlessly, the child looked up into its eye and said something.
The Guardian didn't understand what she was saying, but blinked in response. The young girl smiled, pulling her plush boar closer, then spoke again. When she recieved no response, she walked forward and sat down just in front of the Guardian's heft, putting her hands behind her and staring up at the sky.
Now the Guardian genuinely didn't know what to do. Looking around briefly, the Guardian realized that no one was nearby, and lifted its free leg experimentally. It'd been long enough that it could move it around much easier.
Looking down, the Guardian carefully curled its limb around the young girl, who shrieked in surprise. Pulling her a little closer, the Guardian rested its leg on the ground. The child stood up, moving away in anxious surprise as the Guardian watched her. Cautiously, she spoke again. A question this time.
The Guardian was tired of blinking as a response to everything, so it instead raised its leg again, this time waving the end in an awkward wave.
Laughing nervously, the child moved closer, looking up into the Guardian's large eye and speaking again. The Guardian recognized two of her words - one had been its title, and the other had been part of the village it was currently occupying.
Yawning, the child lay down, resting her head on the Guardian's side as it processed the words. The child had wanted to give it a name, evidently.
It was now Guardian Ariko.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ariko's eye snapped open.
Looking around, it was somewhat confused to find the sky full of puffy clouds, the sun rising over the horizon and tinting the world in shades of oranges, reds, and yellows. Looking down, it found the young girl from last night curled in a ball, her chest rising and falling slowly as she slept. Ariko decided not to bother her.
The Guardian was a little concerned. It had been certain that it was incapable of sleep - it had never needed it before, after all. Perhaps it had gone into some sort of temporary torpor while recharging?
A disturbing thought occurred to it. What if something important, something irreparable, had been broken when the hero had shot it? It had sustained an amount of damage that was incomparable to anything in its history. Maybe some of the damage was permanent. What if it had to charge itself at a shrine for the rest of its life?
Its thoughts were interrupted by the sound of people shouting in the village. Ariko rotated its dome to look down at them, briefly worried that Bokoblin had invaded while it was asleep. That would have been a genuine nightmare, but it was thankfully incorrect. The Hylians below were walking around in the early morning light, calling out with their hands cupped around their mouths.
Ariko looked down at the child lying in front of it. Her breath had quickened, but she still didn't move, keeping her eyes shut tight. It wasn't entirely sure why, but this young girl didn't want to be found by her brethren.
It was strange. Why would she not want to be noticed? If other Guardians had told Ariko that they were willing to protect Kakariko alongside it, it would have been excited beyond description.
Ariko saw Impa walking up the hill towards it, and looked back down at the young girl.
Well, if she didn't want to be found...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ariko blinked innocently at Impa as she approached him, breathing heavily as she put her hands on her knees. Besides her, the bodyguards panted lightly, a thin veneer of sweat coating their skin as they waited for Impa to catch her breath. "Guardian," Impa began, "one of our children went missing. Your range and breadth of view are unequaled among anything or anyone here, and you need no rest. Have you seen her?"
Rotating its dome imperiously, Ariko turned to look into the forest, and Impa sighed irritably, saying something in her own language that caused one of her bodyguards to snort in amusement. Shaking her head, she looked up to the Guardian again. "My apologies. It is not my place to demand information from a grand being such as yourself upon such short notice. I will avoid doing so again."
Awkwardly lifting its free leg, Ariko waved, and the small group stopped dead. Impa's jaw dropped and then closed again. "I... we will leave you to your hill." They headed off into the forest, casting surprised looks back at Ariko until they were out of sight.
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The moment they were gone, Ariko unplugged itself from the shrine. It had reached maximum capacity in terms of power some time ago and didn't need to leave its limb in place anymore. With that out of the way, Ariko placed both legs on the ground and heaved, forcing its body to lift.
Scrambling out from underneath the space under Ariko's dome, the young girl ran past its trembling legs and stumbled to a stop. Relieved, Ariko relinquished the pressure on its limbs and relaxed, slamming into the ground with an almighty crash. Blinking, Ariko looked back to the girl, eye flicking in an attempt to see through the dust cloud caused by its impact.
...and she was gone.
Ariko's eye narrowed irritably. It had allowed her to hide underneath its very dome and had left without thanking it? The Guardian had done worse for less before.
Well, at least Ariko had gotten a name out of it.
It really did like the name.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was somewhat difficult for Ariko to figure out what to repair first. Everything its creators had given it was important, vital to its existence. Why would its creators have given it anything unnecessary, after all? They had been geniuses of the highest degree. No detail would have been overlooked in the Guardians' creation.
After some agonizing consideration, Ariko decided to fix its legs first. They were helpful (required, in fact) if it wanted to be able to move its extraordinarily dense body around, and it would be hard to defend Kakariko Village if it couldn't get around the houses and whatnot.
The upper half of its body was crammed with circuits, devices and most importantly, Ariko's power core. That was the most fragile and dangerous part of its entire construction, located right behind its blue eye. It didn't quite understand that decision - wouldn't it have been far safer to put the core in the center of its dome? It would be practically invulnerable past the layers of unnaturally hard stone and metal, but its creators knew best.
The bottom half, however, was what Ariko really needed for repairs. It was essentially a portable factory, one it could use to produce whatever limbs it required, somehow transforming the power it attained into solid matter. Ariko didn't understand it very well - it knew that it had something to do with converting energy into solids or vice versa. The same technology powered its laser, creating a dense beam that turned air into energy very very fast on impact.
All of the logic behind it made Ariko's dome spin a bit, but it knew it didn't have to fully understand how it worked in order to use it. With that thought in mind, it started construction on all four of its missing legs, air and energy slowly turning into the required parts, and its internal factory began putting them all together.
Focusing on its insides, Ariko failed to notice Impa approaching it, a frown on her face. "Guardian!" She shouted the word as she paced toward it. Startled, Ariko put its repairs on automatic and rotated its dome to face her. Placing her hands on the heft of her gnarled stick, she glared at it. "You indicated to us that Kopa had run into the forest. But she hadn't!"
Ariko blinked as innocently as a ten-ton murder machine could, and she shook her finger at it. "Don't give me that! Given your age, I had thought you to be more mature. Was I incorrect?"
The Guardian leveled its gaze at her, a little irritated. How was it supposed to respond? It couldn't talk, after all.
She seemed to realize that fact and deflated a little. Turning, she looked towards the sky, then faced the grass for a moment. Ariko waited. Guardians were nothing if not patient. Well, perhaps a little obsessed with following their instructions, but mostly patient.
Finally, she turned and said quietly, "Guardian. There are some here who do not believe you are willing to protect Kakariko, and their voices are not quiet. I believe the constructs of the Sheikah to be without guile, because I am one who is most familiar with their ways. Many of the people here are not used to seeing your kind act with anything except senseless violence, and I honestly cannot blame them for thinking so. Their fears have deep foundations."
Ariko was somber. It hadn't known what its reputation was among Hylians. It couldn't even remember most of the past hundred years, which while not a long time to its species, but an eternity to most mortal races. It had a feeling that most of that time was not spent protecting, but following whatever instructions had been given to it.
Impa sighed. "Kopa is uninjured. But she tells us that she hid underneath you, and that it was your idea. Why would you hide her?"
Once again, Ariko simply stared at her, and she waved it away. "I know you can't respond, Guardian. All that I ask is that you act very carefully around the villagers. It would take very little to anger them."
Ariko nodded respectfully, and she smiled faintly. "To be honest, much of me is still amazed that your mind is clear. It is not something I thought possible anymore. But..." She turned away, smiling at the village. "But it is something I am immensely grateful for."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ariko tested its new limbs, extending its claws to the maximum and bending its ropy legs in every direction it could think of, including a few impractical ones.
Finally, it rotated them to the proper position and slammed its limbs into the ground. Finally, it was ready.
With more effort than it had expected, it lifted its body into the air, legs trembling briefly as it got used to having all six of its legs back. Rotating its dome in a full circle, Ariko paused to open a series of vents at the edge of its dome, steam erupting from them and drifting upward. Its factory had been operating nonstop for two days to get the legs in operation at the appropriate time, and while it desperately wanted to get its beautiful chimes working, it had a feeling that its factory might literally melt if it pushed it.
Tilting its body and spinning around in a small circle, Ariko ensured that its legs were functioning properly and in tandem with its desires. Satisfied with its operating capabilities, it set off down the hill towards Kakariko.
A farmer was the first to greet it, his jaw slowly dropping as it casually walked past his house. Ariko was almost too large for the street, but it could squeeze by without damaging any of the well-built houses.
Carefully stepping over a yellow dog, petrified by fear, Ariko continued onward, eyeing the largest building, which was sitting atop a hill, ornate stairs leading up to it.
Ariko heard an unfamiliar voice, once again speaking in the language it couldn't understand, and rotated its dome curiously. There was a Hylian standing in front of it, with white pants, a confusing upper piece of clothing, and white hair pulled in a bun that sat on top of his head. He was grinning unabashedly at Ariko, holding a brush and standing in front of a blank canvas. He repeated his question, raising an eyebrow indicatively and gesturing to it.
A streak of excitement ran through Ariko. This random Hylian wanted to paint it! It hadn't been painted in... a very long time. Not since Guardians were truly respected so many centuries ago.
Raising its body, Ariko stared off towards the entrance of Kakariko, raising one leg slightly as its eye narrowed. It held the position, and the painter shouted in excitement, plunging into his work with a genuine artist's vigor.
Ariko's eye creased in happiness. It would get to be painted - and it could be patient.
Guardians were nothing if not patient.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Limbs trembling, Ariko looked out the corner of its eye to see the painter carefully applying the final touches of his paint to the canvas, professional hands not shaking in the slightest as he finished his painting.
Quite a few people had arrived over the past few hours, curious and a little concerned over the appearance of the fully-functioning Guardian currently in their midst, but once they had realized it wanted to be painted, they'd either drifted away to continue in their work or stayed to watch. At the moment, there was a very young child holding onto the base of one of Ariko's legs, swinging back and forth in an ungainly diaper and a gray shirt that draped to his knees.
Standing back, the painter raised his fist to the sky, brush clenched inside, and shouted in happiness. Excited, Ariko put its foot down, easing its tired limbs from its previous position. Carefully, it briefly rested its body on the ground, reaching one limb to gently pull the child off of its leg. It didn't need to. The toddler's parent rushed over, speaking quickly to the child as she lifted him onto her hip, chiding him quietly.
Ignoring them, Ariko paced around to behind the painter, nearly crashing into a house in the process, and examined his work with a narrowed eye.
Ariko slowly turned its dome to glare at the painter, who was blissfully grinning up at it. Returning its attention to the painting, Ariko wished it could sigh.
He'd taken great liberty with the Guardian's appearance, choosing to make its surface perfectly flat instead of carved with the careful whorls and curves of its creators' design. The small 'horns' on the top of Ariko's dome, however, had been greatly exaggerated, expanding further outward as the menacing red eye in the center of the purple dome stared off into the distance.
All of which to say, the painting looked nothing like Ariko. It looked like a different Guardian entirely, and not even one of the creators' design. A parody of the careful and extensive intelligence and work that went into developing the mechanical defenders of Hyrule.
Ariko felt a short urge to knock the painting over, or perhaps hurl it into the air and blast it. Looking at the painter's expectant smile, it couldn't bring itself to.
Shaking its dome irritably, it stepped over the painter and began walking towards the large building. It had wasted several hours being painted by an artist who didn't care for the design that had been perfected for both aesthetics and function, and it really needed to find Impa.
Ariko stopped dead in its tracks in surprise, its eye widening further and further as it saw what was happening. Far above it, exiting the large building where Impa presumably resided, was the hero.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ariko's eye narrowed, its reticle flicking on and aiming directly at the hero as its insides tried and failed to produce the chimes of its war cry, rising to its full height and striding forward with clear intent.
The hero looked up from his Slate and saw the Guardian. Ariko could see his eyes widen from where it stood, and saw him begin to pull a shield, a proper one this time, from his back.
Suddenly Ariko remembered how its initial fight with the hero had gone, and immediately came up with a counterplan. Keeping its indicator on, it hurtled towards the hero, claws leaving massive indents in the ground as it increased its already incredible speed.
The hero predictably raised his shield, and Ariko positively leaped forward, ducked down, then swung the entirety of its body upward. The edge of its ten-ton body slammed into his shield, and it broke instantly as the hero was launched away. Keeping an eye on him, Ariko prepared its laser, aiming carefully.
Backflipping midair, the hero landed on a roof and pulled another shield out of nowhere. Ariko's eye narrowed again, squinting for whatever source he was producing the shields from as it paced onward.
Removing the Slate from his side, the hero aimed at Ariko and-
-suddenly had a bow in his hands, drawing it back with another one of the creator-made arrows and aiming for Ariko's eye. Startled by the sudden skip in time, Ariko launched its body sideways, and the arrow shot past it, slammed into the ground, and detonated in a large blue explosion.
The Hylians living in Kakariko scattered, screaming in shock and terror as the explosion hit, and Ariko's mind looked up at the instructions it had set for itself.
Lifting its body, Ariko shook itself off and approached the hero once more. This time, the hero dove behind the house he'd landed on, and Ariko paused, scanning for him.
A moment later, the hero came around the side of the house, a wrought-iron chest hovering in front of him as he used the Slate to maneuver it midair, then suddenly froze it with some sort of yellow beam that sent transparent chains coursing on and around the chest. For some reason, he started striking it with a crude club, a matching yellow arrow forming and lengthening, darkening to red as he attacked it.
Ariko realized what was about to happen right before it did, and raised a claw to block. The chains holding the chest broke with a clang, and it hurtled towards Ariko with all the momentum it should have taken from the strikes combined. It slammed into Ariko's claw, and the Guardian deflected it away, staring at the hero.
Again, the hero drew his bow, blue light concentrating at the tip as he aimed. Ariko didn't give him the chance. If he was holding a bow, then he could not hold a shield.
For the first time since it had been damaged, Ariko fired its beam, and the lance of blue light streaked across the battlefield at the same time the hero fired. Eye widening, Ariko rotated its dome to face away from the shot.
The resulting explosions were immense. Dual dust clouds rose from the ground, blocking the combatants' view of each other. Ariko knew it had been damaged, but that was a second priority to
Ariko was furious. This hero had a method of rapidly healing himself? How was fighting anyone or anything fair when he could do that?
Shaking its dome to get rid of the daze hanging around it, Ariko prepared to fire again. The hero stood up, his injuries gone, and rose his Slate.
Faster than chain lightning, Ariko's leg snapped out and seized a barrel, bringing it in front of him. The instant it did, the barrel froze with the same yellow chains from earlier, confirming the Guardian's suspicion. The hero could freeze time on enemies as well as objects. Truly an unfair advantage.
Battering at the barrel with its limbs, Ariko built up a charge, then slammed its dome into the barrel's side, the arrow coming out of it a blood red, aimed straight at the hero. Ariko could see his eyes widen as he pulled out a shield, and Ariko rushed forward.
The chains snapped, and the barrel was launched forward with all the power of a Guardian strike, whizzing past Ariko as it smashed into the hero's shield, knocking it out of his grasp. Before he could react, Ariko reached out with a claw, seized the hero with it, pinning his arms to his sides, then rose him to his eye as it prepared a blast.
"GUARDIAN!!!"
Startled, Ariko spun its dome to see Impa hobbling towards it, her walking stick in her hands as she limped towards it as fast as she could. She tripped, falling to her knees, and Ariko hurried to her side, ensuring that its grip on the hero was still tight. She struggled to her feet unsteadily, then looked up into Ariko's eye. "Guardian, you must not kill the hero!"
Ariko's eye narrowed. It was defending Kakariko Village! What was she saying!?
She coughed, putting a hand to her chest, and her bodyguards ran to support her. "Guardian," she panted, "look at our village!"
Looking around at the mayhem the battle had caused, buildings on fire and Hylians cowering behind what scant cover they could find, Ariko slowly lowered the hero.
Impa leaned her full weight on her walking stick, appearing for once as old as she must have been. "Guardian." she tried again, "Please."
Ariko glared at the hero. It desperately wanted to end the life of the one who had injured it so badly, but if that meant going against its objective, then what was the point of having the objective at all?
It opened its claw, and the hero fell out of its grasp. Without saying a thank you or even so much as a word, the hero began downing apples and cooked meat at an unbelievable speed.
Impa's shoulders dropped in relief, and she said with a grateful sigh, "Thank you, Guardian. Thank you."
Even then, Ariko was not sure it had made the correct decision.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ariko glared across the wooden table at the hero, who was looking around Kakariko Village with detached interest as villagers doused the flames and began to repair the damage done because of his arrival. Legs wrapped delicately around its base, Ariko's eye narrowed at him.
It was willing to cooperate with Impa, but not the hero. The hero had attacked it twice now and had nearly been successful on both occasions. Ariko distrusted the hero in the extreme.
Impa returned with a pot of tea, checking on both of them. "I'm aware that you are unable to speak, Guardian, but are you two getting along?"
Ariko glared at her, then returned its gaze to the hero and deftly turned on its indicator. The hero instantly rolled backward, yanking out a shield and crouching. Impa sighed loudly, rubbing the bridge of her nose with two fingers, and walked away, calling, "Just don't kill each other, all right?"
Ariko was unwilling to make that promise.
Turning off the indicator, the Guardian reached sideways with one of its limbs and seized a sizable barrel, placing it on the table between them. With a deft swing of its leg, it neatly cut the top part off, the claws at the tip of its leg merging into a single blade to do so. Peeking inside, it saw cloudy brown liquid inside. It assumed it was tea, and offered it grudgingly to the hero, one limb wrapped around its base.
Looking inside, the hero began to remove a small bottle from... nowhere, really. Jerking suddenly, Ariko dumped the entire barrel on the hero, utterly soaking his patterned blue shirt and white pants. Eye screwing up in amusement, Ariko set the barrel down and began walking away, its mood having been significantly improved.
It was met by a young girl. It only took Ariko a moment to recognize her as the one who had hidden underneath it, but now she was wearing a frilly purple dress, her hair carefully styled. Eye tilting on its axis, Ariko leaned a little closer, examining her. As she clutched her boar plush, staring at the ground, she said something quietly, and Ariko blinked curiously.
Looking up into Ariko's eye, she said the phrase again, the beginning of tears welling up in her eyes.
Ariko was stumped, totally unsure of what exactly it was supposed to do in this situation, and then had an idea. Curling a limb around her waist, Ariko made sure to maintain eye contact, and she stifled the startled shriek. Carefully, it lifted her and placed her directly on top of its dome. It felt her small hands grip its horns and forced itself not to shiver. It felt weird.
Shaking itself briefly, it turned around and set off, making sure to keep its dome upright as it moved. Trundling through Kakariko, Ariko finally found Impa overseeing repairs and paused next to her. Turning with a frown, Impa saw the girl atop its dome and raised an eyebrow. "Guardian," she asked, "why do you have Kupa on your head?"
Gently, Ariko removed the young girl from the top of its dome, noting the way her hands unwillingly released its horns, and placed her in front of it. Looking from Kupa to Impa, the Guardian hoped she would get the message. She did a moment later and sighed deeply. In the back of its mind, Ariko wondered where the deeply respectful attitude had gone and blamed it on the hero. "Guardian, I am not your personal translator."
Ariko considered five options, only one of which involved blasting Impa, and settled for the one it calculated to have the optimal chances of success. Slumping noticeably, Ariko began walking away, its dome dipping forward. It almost heard Impa roll her eyes. "Fine. What is it?"
Spinning around and perking up, Ariko once again indicated Kupa, who seemed a little startled. It was a few moments before she realized the issue, and blushed deeply, turning to Impa and speaking again. Impa laughed with surprising volume before turning to Ariko. "My apologies, Guardian. Kupa wished to extend her apologies for bothering you three days ago."
Ariko nodded in calm realization, then nudged Kupa gently. She smiled, patting its claw and standing back, then bowed. Impa chuckled at the sight, turning back to Ariko with a frown. "By the way, she keeps calling you Ariko. Is that actually your name?"
The Guardian nodded again, practically ecstatic that someone finally knew what its name was, and Impa contemplated the information thoughtfully. "Well then, Ariko." She said with a wide grin. "Welcome to Kakariko Village."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ariko... was a little bored.
The hero was off doing something or another involving cucco that Ariko wanted no part in, and the repairs to the village had been finished with shocking speed. At the moment, the only thing Ariko was doing was waiting for something to happen. If it was honest, it would have been almost excited to hear that Bokoblin were attacking. But they weren't, so Ariko was literally sitting next to the shrine, messing with its claws.
Glancing at the shrine, Ariko blinked curiously, a thought occurring to it. Why hadn't it tried to enter the shrine yet? It was right there, after all. It was creator-made and therefore potentially vital to Ariko's existence.
Getting to its feet, Ariko stuck its claw in the shrine's slot for the Slate and once again felt the strange rush of energy, blinking from the input. This time, though, it tried to force energy back into the pillar.
Energy erupted from the pillar, shining blue ribbons of light that enveloped Ariko in an expanding curtain that wrapped around its very-
SPACE IS MEANINGLESS
SIZE IS RELATIVE TO EVERYTHING
DISTANCE IS INFINITE
DISTANCE IS NONEXISTENT
-core as it appeared in an open room, blue carvings spreading across the walls and ceiling, the floor perfectly smooth. In front of Ariko was a Teacher Guardian.
Ariko bowed to show its respect. Unlike Ariko, the Teachers were designed to be able to rebuild themselves from scraps if necessary, and could communicate their wishes to those that were being tested.
The Teacher awoke at Ariko's presence, its smaller body rising on its three legs and its dome telescoping upward, its spindly arm wielding a single blue blade. Blinking its long rest away, it serenely looked at Ariko. Hello, Guardian. My name is Ta'Loh Naeg. What are you doing here?
Ariko rose from its bow with all the respect it could manage, wishing it could speak, and Ta'Loh Naeg closed its eye thoughtfully. I had forgotten your type was incapable of communication. May I rectify that problem?
Ariko blinked in shock. The Teacher was willing to improve on Ariko's design? The truly perfect assisting the nearly perfect? It was enough to make a human cry, but once again, Ariko could not. It could only nod in immeasurable happiness, and Ta'Loh Naeg approached it. Briefly setting its blade down, the Teacher reached an arm up...
...and shoved it directly into Ariko's eye.