1 The Legend of Zelda: Star of Heroes

Here it is! The long-awaited conclusion to the Heroes Trilogy is ready to be posted. And, judging from the reaction to Heroes of Time and Heroes' Fall, you guys are as ready as you'll get. Remember that I will, as always, ask that anyone who reads this to post comments, criticism, and/or general all-around praise. No flaming please, or you will meet a fate that you could only imagine in your darkest nightmares. I won't tell you anything about it, except that it involves Richard Simmons. Scared already aren't you? (

Author's Note:

Boy, you people must be sick of these by now. Even more reason for me to do them! Well, Heroes' Fall ended on something of a down note, which was really what everybody expected, I think. Link and Zelda are still alive, but the same cannot be said for a lot of other people. If you are trying to read this without reading the other two, don't. It's really important that the previous stories be read first.

Well, I would like to thank all those who posted on my fanfic during the time I was posting new stuff. To name a few: Unknown_Mercenary, HeroofTime861, Ruana, Link863, and gcubeman, and those wonderful folks at fanfiction.net; my sincerest thanks to all of you.

Now, a lot, and I mean a LOT of you said that I should post episodically as opposed to slapping the entire thing on fanfiction.net at once. Well, why the hell not? Star of Heroes will be divided up into five sections or so (I haven't decided yet), and new chapters will come every few days. It does start out kinda slow, but it gets better. I promise.

I would also like to add that this is a work of complete fiction, written solely by me and the little elves that live in my nose. Any and all similarities to persons or events, living or dead, past or present, are merely the outward projections of a seriously disturbed mental state and an overabundance of you being on crack. Message ends.



"Peace cannot ever be achieved by a mere force of arms. True peace comes from balance within one's self. If you can achieve this, you will know your weaknesses, and can work to use them to your own advantage. For to know the limits of yourself is to know the limits of your opponent."

-Master Jairuss Marto, 841 A.U.



Link wrapped the cloak tighter around him, head bent against the vicious, howling winds of the northern regions of Aaran. Shaking icy crystal from his blonde hair, he wished desperately that someone would invent some sort of cold-weather garment that actually covered the body adequately, as opposed to parts of it. Behind him, he heard a sharp sneeze, and sighed, the vapor of his breath rising into the cold, dark night sky. Its' going to be a long winter.

The fall had fled from the country of Aaran all to quickly. What had once been relatively pleasant, albeit chilly, weather had turned harsh and frigid in a matter of days following the end of the harvest. Snow crunched wetly under the young man's boots, and the constant sheet of freezing flakes swept into his sharp blue eyes. Zelda sneezed again, and Link slowed his step, placing himself at her side.

"Anything wrong?" he asked, drawing part of his black cloak around her.

"No more than the usual intolerance to such heinous weather," she answered with a small twist of the mouth that passed among the Hylians for a smile these days. "Honestly Link, what makes you think that we'll find anything before night freezes us all?"

"Old warrior's hunch," he said with the same sort of grin. "I can nearly smell the woodfires from here. I just hope they have an inn where they can put up a few weary travelers."

The outcast Princess looked back with a troubled look. "We have dwindled to only a few in the past couple of months haven't we?"

Link nodded. After the disaster on the Steppes of Iaord and the flight from Hyrule, the army had been forced to separate, each man going more or less his own way. Even the violently loyal Sheikah had left the king's side to go their own ways, all save the two most dedicated, Rith and Saral. Weiun Thar, Nabooru, Bridon Girth, the once king Gaerdon, Zelda, Link, and a handful of soldiers were all that remained together of the once- formidable army that had opposed the Coughlians. They had received no word from Raru, Darunia, and the Gorons, the Zora, or the Kokiri of the Forest. It was suspected that they had either fallen or were prisoners, trapped, or driven out of their homes.

The Allies that were at Iaord had suffered losses that were, in hindsight, much less severe than they could have been. Many of those missing had been accounted for, but they had still lost more than half of their fighting force. After the onset of winter, many chose to take up more or less permanent residence in nearby villages in the southern, more temperate regions of Aaran, the country north of the mountains to Hyrule. Others who were of the mind searched out work, something to keep money in pouches for when it was needed, and settled down as well. Only the heroes of the Imprisoning War and three Hylian soldiers, Karron, Portur, and Huff had stayed on the ice-covered roads to Siryn Emroth, said to be the place of the Emrothian Fountains, sustainer of life and cure to all ailments. Link looked down at his left hand, envisioning what he would see if he removed his fur gloves, and shuddered. The blackened mark of the Tri Force of Power had been eating at him bit by bit, and it was only a matter of time before its evil took its toll on him.

Zelda's sky-blue eyes followed the former hero's, and she took his hand gently, stroking it against her cheek. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll find something."

Link nodded again, shielding his eyes against the storm as he looked ahead into the blizzard. It had been a mere twelve years since he had been summoned by the Great Deku Tree of his Forest home and had been launched into what would become the Imprisoning War, but, though he had spent seven of those years in the Temple of Light, it seemed more like thirty summers since he had been that young. And the years weighed heavily on him. His hair had grown out long, and was held by a leather cord wrapped around his forehead. Though he still retained the youthful handsomeness that he had kept since childhood, most of his innocence was visually contradicted by a long, red scar that ran from his right eyebrow to the left side of his nose. His shoulders, though square and straight, often seemed to bear a great weight, one unsuited to a person so young. However, the most frightening visible attribute about him was his eyes. Icy blue, they looked as though they would rest in the head of a war-weary old man, torn by battle and bereft of friends. Though not often, he though he saw Zelda shiver, not from the cold, when she looked into his soul's twin windows.

Zelda, however, had remained mostly unchanged since their flight from Hyrule. She still managed to mix the friendly charisma with an air of royalty, and was as beautiful as she had been the day Link first met her.

The young man shook his head, blinking against the icy flakes. Either his imagination was acting up, or there were lights up ahead.

"We're coming up on a village!" Nabooru called from his left.

"No more than a quarter mile too," Link agreed. He turned to look at Zelda, a grin on his face that invited mischief. "Are the rest of you ready for a hot meal and a warm bed?"

"Are you sure you can't finagle just one more bed?" Link asked tiredly. The innkeeper had given the same answer five times. He didn't really expect it to change. "We just got off the road, and really need to get some rest tonight."

The balding man behind the half-cleaned counter sighed heavily. "Look sir, it's not jes' my doin'. There's lots o' folk as wants to stay inside on a night such as this, and we're 'bout full up as it is. A pair o' yeh'll have to share a room."

Link licked his lips nervously, and glanced at Zelda at the exact moment that she glanced at him. "That'll have to do then. It will save us some money at any rate."

Zelda smiled at him as they ascended the stairs. "I don't really mind sharing a room with you Link," she said matter-of-factly. "It's not like we weren't planning for this eventuality after all."

The young man shrugged. "I just didn't expect anything like that at all tonight of all times. And I still need to get used to the idea of sharing as much with anyone that I will with you."

The outcast Princess took his hand as they entered the smallish room on the top floor. "I don't think that you're supposed to be used to it." She looked around the abode, taking in the small table, chair, nightstand, and rather large bed. "At least we won't have to worry about one of us falling off," she remarked, pulling off her boots and sitting down on the mattress.

Link turned ruby red around the ears. "I'll, uh. . . just start unpacking then." Removing his cloak, he placed his shield and sword to one side, and pulled off the emerald green tabard on which was emblazoned the crest of the Royal Knights of Hyrule. The same design was graven upon the sword he carried. Not the sacred blade of Hyrule, which had been broken in the Battle of Iaord, but the sword carried by the knights of old. The sword that Link had earned with his own sweat and blood in his one-man crusade during the darkest hours of the Imprisoning War. His fingers ran the length of the sword's hilt, noting the craftsmanship that had gone into the weapon, coming to rest in a one-handed grip that drew the blade from its scabbard.

"Is there something I should know Link?" Zelda asked, her eyes darting from him to the Sword of the Old King that lay near her side of the bed.

"I'm just not going to take any chances after that incident ten days ago," the former hero answered grimly. "You should have your own sword ready as well, just in case."

She nodded, placing the naked blade so that it leaned against the nightstand. "I was wondering-" She stopped abruptly, staring at Link.

The young man looked behind him, a quizzical look on his face, then back at Zelda. "What?" he asked, finishing pulling his tunic over his head and folding it neatly. "What is it?"

It was Zelda's turn to blush. "Nothing," she mumbled, removing her cloak and over-tunic.

"Ahh," Link said with a sly grin as he kicked off his boots and settled himself on the bed next to Zelda. "I guess that that's just another of those thing's we'll have to get used to."

Link stood in front of the window, looking out on the snowy, moonlit landscape. A slight breeze came through the cracked window, slightly ruffling his hair as it passed. The light gray breeches he wore did not provide much protection from the frigid air, but Link would have been wearing a shirt if the cold bothered him at all. As it was, after wandering an icy cavern in nothing thicker than a tunic, cold had never caused the young man much of a problem.

There was a rustle behind him, and the former hero turned his head slightly, and smiled. "I thought you were asleep."

Zelda shrugged, drawing the blanket more tightly around her. "I was, but the bed is colder without you in it. The open window doesn't help either."

Link put an arm around her shoulder, giving her a small kiss on the forehead. "It might also have something to do with the fact that you are only wearing a blanket."

"It just might at that," the younger of the two conceded. "But I don't plan on changing the fact." She snuggled closer to him, leaning her head against his chest. " You're warm enough as it is. Why were you up?"

"I was thinking."

Zelda's eyes drifted automatically to the blackened mark on Link's hand, and the scar on his forehead. "Sometimes I think you spend to much time dwelling on what might happen some day." He felt a slight tingle as her hand caressed the scar tissue on his shoulder. "We all have worries, and regrets. For now, let's just concentrate on the present."

Link let out a small sigh. "You're probably right. I'm sorry if it seems I'm neglecting you. I wish that there was more I could do for you, especially now."

"You are doing fine," she said with a mischievous grin. "But you do need to come back to bed."

"As you wish, my darling," he said, brushing a strand of hair from in front of her eyes. "After all, it would not do to let you freeze to death. Your father would be highly upset with me."

The following morning dawned, but only barely. The thick clouds grudgingly let in only enough light to see for a few hundred feet before the mists of the mountain foothills shrouded everything in a pasty gray. The only sound that penetrated the thick morn was the gentle whisper of a leftover wind from the heights of the mountain peak. Link strained his eyes against the gloom, trying to catch a glimpse of the snowy cap of the earthen behemoth.

Malon would have been able to see through this, or anything else for that matter, he thought bitterly, throwing a glance at Weiun Thar near the back of the line. What I wouldn't give to have her with us. It must be tearing Weiun apart to not have been able to do anything to save her.

It was at the top of Mount Erginald that Siryn Emroth had nestled itself, protected on three sides by sheer cliffs and a sharp drop approaching from the south, assuming the merchant in the last town could be trusted on information more than the value of his goods. If there was any hope of removing the cursed mark from Link's skin, it would rest there.

A slight twitch ran through his left hand, and he flexed the fingers nervously. It had not gotten out of control since the fall of Hyrule, but then, Link had not used a weapon to as great an extent yet as he had then either. It seemed that every time his actions became violent enough, the mark took a stronger hold on him.

The former hero shuddered, not from the cold. The incident at the mountain pass with the rabid bear had nearly sent him to the edge of that precipice, because he had not been prepared for any sort of danger. Zelda had almost died, and it would have been because of him.

That was the one thing above all others that frightened Link about the thing that had infected him; if he turned evil, he would very probably kill her, and he would not have that. He would rather die at her hand than the other way around. And she knew it.

Don't think like that, he told himself firmly. There is still hope. As long as we are alive, we can count on that.

"Sir!" Rith called to him from the line. "Straight up the side of the mountain, what do you see?"

Link paused in the snow and squinted, shielding his eyes from the freezing winds. "It looks like a black smudge against a slightly lighter smudge," he answered.

"Then that means-" the Sheikah broke off, a smile reflected in his eyes.

Link nodded. "Siryn Emroth, or I'm a goat. How long do you think it will take?"

Rith shrugged, but Saral spoke up from his side. "Depending on the winds, anywhere from a day to a week."

Portur frowned through red bangs as he caught up with the others who had stopped on the trail. "A bit risky, isn't it? If we get stuck, we could either freeze or starve to death."

Huff nodded, clapping the other soldier on the shoulder. "Yep. Sounds like fun." He turned to Link. "We start today?"

The young man glanced at Zelda and her father, receiving neutral looks from both, then looked back up the slopes of Mount Erginald. "No time like the present. Let's go."

The winds were not as bad as Link had feared, mostly staying light and high above the travelers' heads. However, the ascent was steep and the footing very treacherous at times. There was a heart-stopping moment when the ice under Karron gave way and she almost plummeted to the bottom of a blackened chasm. A quick leap on her part and a steady hand up on Huff's managed to save her.

Well past midday, Link called the first long halt of their climb, giving time to eat, drink, and, for Huff's part, catch forty winks. Link removed his Knight's Sword from the sheath on his back and began sharpening it with a stone from his bag of holding. Zelda looked up from where she was re-lacing her boot.

"Seems strange to watch you doing that after carrying the Master Sword for so long."

Link flashed her a half-smile. "You forget that before the incident where we had to retrieve the sacred blade, I was carrying a plain steel Hylian Sword. I just have to pick up the old habits. Though," he said, examining the blade with a hint of regret, "it was handy not having to worry about notches in the blade." He sighed inaudibly, and re-sheathed the sword. "I think it's time we got moving again. We don't have any daylight to waste."