Author's note:
Hello, everyone! Thank you for reading this fan fiction. I have been a huge Zelda fan since I was about two, and there have been many things about the series that I have enjoyed. However, I decided to try a little experiment for myself: what would the Legend of Zelda look like if I wrote the story for it? What would I change, or what would the characters look like if I had control over their destinies? That's how "Hero" was born, and I'm happy you are along for the ride.
I appreciate any constructive criticism and reviews!
Chapter 1: The Boy with the Scar
RAIN POURED IN SHEETS and unceasingly pounded the roof of the pub. A violent wind whipped the evergreens angrily, casting dark shadows across the stained glass windows. The room was dark – save a few lit candles that flickered in the updraft from the wind of passing strangers – and smelled of damp boots and cheap whiskey.
It was a quiet night at the tavern. Most of the regulars had stayed home to wait out the downpour until tomorrow. A stranger with a blue cloak pulled over her face drank at the bar – not wanting to be disturbed by the group of men who were chatting energetically behind her at a nearby table. However, due to their level of intoxication, she could not help (or want) to overhear them.
"I tell ya what," one of the men slurred loudly, laughing and smacking his mug of ale on the wood table, "I wish I nabbed that goddamn felon! I would've fancied marryin' a lovely lady with that bounty." The man winked and grinned at Isabelle – a young waitress who had the misfortune of tending to their table – and she rolled her eyes.
"Honey, you're gonna need a lot more than rupees to find yourself a wife. Only your mother could ever love a face like yours," she laughed, grabbing an empty pitcher from their table and walking back behind the bar. "Besides, that kid's been locked away at Lanaryu for a few weeks now."
"What was that sleazy little bastard wanted for anyway? Wasn't the entire Hyrulean army tearin' the land apart lookin' for him?" asked another man at the table. He wasn't so interested in having the question answered as he was just eyeballing the waitress' "goods" for a moment or two longer. Isabelle was not amused by their advances, and let out an audible sigh.
"Beats me," she shrugged, filling the pitcher with a fresh pint of Kakariko golden ale and placing it back on their table. She considered cutting them off at this point, but she didn't want to lose her tip on such a slow night. "I heard they wanted him for treason of the King, but who really knows…" she continued. "Apparently they found the fella hidin' out in Ordon Village
A man with a missing tooth leaned in at the table, quietly signaling his buddies and the waitress to do the same. He quickly glanced around the room to see if anyone was snooping on their "secret" meeting taking place at the table.
"Yeah, I heard the same thing," he whispered gruffly. "Rumor has it that the army set the whole goddamn village on fire! Can you believe that? A good buddy o' mine said that it was suspected that the guy was organizin' some sorta rebellion against the King or somethin' crazy like that… and the whole town was in on it! But the kid can't be any more than sixteen-years-old, so that doesn't make any goddamn sense. And the Hyrulean army won't let nobody pass into Ordona Province, let alone go near the village..."
"A rebellion…!?" Isabella gasped loudly. The entire tavern became quiet at once, the pub patrons suddenly staring at their table, except for the woman at the bar. Isabelle walked away to check on her other customers, her face red from her embarrassment and participation in their rumor-mongering.
"Honey, do you need anything else?" she gingerly asked the cloaked woman at the bar. For a brief moment, she saw the woman's face. The cloaked stranger's hair was snow white with a long strand that protruded from under her cloak and onto the table. Her red eyes stared back at the waitress for a passing moment, and then back down at the table again.
The mysterious woman shook her head silently, and continued to sip on her drink. The waitress returned to the men's table with another pint of ale, and the conversation picked back up where it left off.
"… Damn, only sixteen?" asked another stranger who had overheard the men's conversation at the table and decided to join in on the fun. "When I was his age, all I thought about were all the pretty lasses in Kakariko, not startin' a war!"
The table busted out laughing for a few moments, the men nodding unanimously in agreement. Isabelle was not amused by their taste in humor. She was tempted to put an end to their unruly conversation, but she still had one question that still burned in the back of her mind.
"… so how did they know it was him?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her once again. "I've known plenty of stupid boys…" Isabelle paused for a moment to glare at the men gathered at the table – the men laughing at this gesture "…in my day. How the hell do they know that this kid was the leader of this 'rebellion?' "
"Apparently the boy some kind of weird scar," the man with the missing tooth said, taking another large slurp of his ale. "A merchant who was jus' passin' through Ordon to Snowpeak saw the scar with his own eyes and alerted some soldiers in Ordon Woods… I also heard he's the one who got the King's reward! He'll never have to work another day in his life, lucky bastard…"
At that moment, the woman who was sitting alone at the bar got up from her seat. The room became quiet again and the men's hysterics over ladies and rumors abruptly stopped. As the stranger walked past the table, Isabelle cautiously turned to her and asked: "You all done for tonight, hon?"
"Yes," the woman answered, her tone short. She pushed opened the tavern door – a rush of wind suddenly blowing out all of the candles in the room – and disappeared into the stormy night.
LINK MOANED SOFTLY, returning to the unfriendly embrace of consciousness.
He slowly became aware of his surroundings: the floor was damp and cold against his bare, bruised torso. Fast, trickling rain seeped through the cracks of the walls through a tiny, unreachable window that he determined was there only to serve for ventilation purposes. On some nights, he would be treated to a sliver of moonlight from the window that painted part of the floor in a silvery glow. However, tonight there was no moon, and the cell remained dark and lifeless.
The teen lay silent on the squalid ground - his back facing away from the iron-barred door - and hoped that the guards down the hall would not notice that he was awake. Sleep held no solace for him from the guard's daily beatings. Painful memories infected his mind, turning his dreams into nightmares.
Link stared at the messages scrawled deeply into the walls, trying to take his concentration off of his thoughts. Most of the messages were illegible to him, written in the Hylian alphabet. Link's mother taught him to read a few words in Hylian, mainly for the purposes of reading maps and road signs, but he never had been able to read the ancient texts most learned in school.
However, one message carved in the wall stood out to him in particular. The combination of symbols looked strangely familiar to him, as if he had seen these words somewhere before…
Slowly forming the words in his mouth, he whispered the message to himself:
Do not cry for me,
Hylia will set me free.
– S.
He hummed the words under his breath for a moment – and then quietly sang the rest of the passage from memory:
Do not cry for me,
Hylia will set me free.
In her embrace you will see
Your bonds are broken
And now you're free.
On this earth we dwell
For a limited time,
All spirits are bound
To Hers' divine.
So please do not weep for me,
My lady Hylia has set me free.
Her arms are gentle,
Her heart is kind,
In Her Grace's arms,
My soul you'll find.
Link recalled the song's origin from his memory: these lyrics were from The Rite of Passing – a ceremony that marked the passing of the dead into the afterlife. He had only heard the song once in his life: once after the unexpected loss of his father years ago. During this ceremony, mourners sang and covered his father's body with flowers and offerings to the Goddess. Though Link was only ten at the time, he remembered the song and ceremony clearly, as well as the look of anguish on his mother's face…
Disturbed by his thoughts, Link shut his eyes to drown out the melody's grip on his mind.
THE SOUND OF RAIN tapped lightly against the ground. Voices murmured in the distance, and then disappeared into the darkness…
The boy found himself fumbling in the dark, looking for a way out. Turning, he saw a single window suspended in the darkness. Flames engulfed the outside, turning the sky into violent hues of orange and red. The window flung open. A noxious mixture of black smoke and ash filled the air.
He choked and coughed, slowly suffocating from the fumes. He could feel Death creep before him, ready to wretch its claws into his dying soul. Falling to his knees, he then heard a familiar voice, calling out to him in the darkness.
Link…
With all of his strength, he pushed himself off the ground and searched the abyss for the sound's source. Turning, he saw his mother. Her body was draped in beautiful flowers, a gaping hole in her chest.
"What's wrong?" she whispered, no sound coming from her mouth. Her face was a sickly pale white. Link turned away in shock, his legs telling him to run. Suddenly, he felt a blinding pain in his left hand. He cried in agony – the pain burned through him like a fire that could not be controlled. Looking down, he realized that his hand… and then his arm… and then his entire body was consumed in flames!
He screamed and screamed, unable to stop the heat from ripping his body apart. Raising his hand to the level of his eyes, he saw the source of the blaze: a red-hot scar that glowed as brightly as the sun – the shape of three golden triangles.
Upon sight of the blazing mark, Link succumbed to the inferno that consumed his body, falling back into a deep darkness once again.