[1/2] Studio with all currently available chapters ➡ https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/51334412/ Read part two here! ➡ https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1276690849/ "When a wolf meets a fox, the fox's cleverness is not undermined." A young Sheikah-tech obsessed Ariphea is presented with an opportunity like no other from an outwardly normal traveler. Little does she know, she's planting her own fate in this stranger's hands. Writing and art done by @lnvertedeye [All rights to the music, universe, and all of the characters, races, and species, belong to Nintendo.] My fanfiction "Enginery Fate" is also available on W^ttpad! --- W^ttpad is for users 13 and above! Please respect that if you do not meet the requirement. The story will be posted here, but there will be a 1–2 day delay across platforms.
Kakariko village. A quaint community in the tall, overarching mountains, with a mist that enshrouded the caps and left the rest unclaimed. For several thousand years, the Sheikah have remained resilient, surviving multiple Calamities, and remaining stealthily—nearly unnoticed in their homelands. There, resides Ariphea. A younger, bright-eyed Sheikah girl. She still lives in with her parents, who are more than happy to accommodate her, and in turn, does most of the chores and daily maintenance. It has been boring. Very. Nonetheless, Ariphea is extremely grateful for the provided shelter. On this particular peaceful evening, the young Shiekah ventured outside to purchase some pumpkins and goat butter. She strode through the village her hands clutching a brown wooden basket woven meticulously by her mother, carrying it with grace and a hint—but only a hint—of pride. She arrived at Olkin's, keeping their interaction simple. A "hello", a purchase of three pumpkins, and a "goodbye" sufficed. Again. She went to the General Store, made a quick purchase, and left. Before she knew it, she was home once more. Trapped within the agonizingly hospitable wood. She stored the food items in their respective places and got to sweeping dust that had collected on her floor in a matter of days. As she began, footsteps thudded down the small set of stairs, no more than five steps littering the space. Ariphea's mother, a rather portly white-haired woman, was on the noise of the broom scraping the ground gently, like a fly to fruit. She bounded right over and bombarded her poor daughter with questions. "Did you get the items I asked for?" "Did you clean out the storage before you left?" "Are you finishing up with the sweeping now?" These were all of the questions Ariphea was smacked with the moment she decided to make any noise, and shocked that her putting the food away wasn't enough to do it first. After a beat of much needed silence, Ariphea replied, "Yes, yes, and no, ma. I just started sweeping," she said, eyeing her with skepticism at her final question. Her mother had known full well she started sweeping not two seconds before she came down. "Oh, don't give me that! I'm going deaf, you know," retorted the woman, hands now placed firmly on her hips, and chest puffed out like a frog about to croak. "Then allow me to speak louder for—" Ariphea began to say, barely louder than her initial voice. "You do not need to shout at me!" boomed her mother, her face crinkled into pure sourness. Ariphea sniggered. That was the response she always got when her mother brought up the "deaf" point, and she attempted to oblige. "Are you finished yet?" she questioned, beginning to sweep at a steady pace again. Silence. Aside from a couple incoherent grumbles that meant "I don't want to lose this." Her mother begrudgingly retreated into the kitchen to prepare the meal for the night. When the time came, and a lovely smoked scent wafted through the home, it called all parties to the table for a shared meal. Ariphea plopped down in a chair as she was served a large helping of buttered steak with a side of rice and carrots. A few awkward glances were cast across the table to Ariphea's father, who had been silent the whole time. Abnormally so. Where were the jokes? The loud chewing? Her mother cleared her throat. Ariphea's dad looked up, seeming puzzled. "What?" he finally asked. Ariphea's eyes went wide, and she gestured over-dramatically to his barely touched plate of food. "You haven't eaten much, you've been silent, and so you're worrying us!" she exclaimed incredulously. "Where are all of your terrible jokes?!" Only a grunt came from the man as his gaze fell back down to his plate. "... Guess I lost 'em when I was sleeping," he mumbled. "You were sleeping?" Ariphea's mother piped up. She had been in and out of the bedroom cleaning, but he must've been so silent she overlooked him every time and just assumed he was elsewhere in the village. It certainly explained his sudden appearance at the table. "Since when do you not wake up at the butt of dawn?" she looked visibly distraught. Another long pause of silence. He was actively trying to discontinue the conversation. Ariphea finished up her food a few moments later, rose to her feet, and washed her dish. She couldn't help but side-eye her mother and father as she stepped up the stairs for the night. Nestled in her short bed, the blankets catching on her palms anytime they made contact, Ariphea couldn't help but let her mind wander. A lot. Her father was not a quiet person. He was boisterous, not restrained. Her busy thoughts faded into dreams, and she dozed off to sleep. First thing in the morning, she sprung out of bed, having not forgotten the events of the night before, and rushed to her father's bedside.
