Disclaimer: I do not own Legend of Zelda (juuust in case that wasn't obvious!). I also do not own the book that the two characters are referring to (you'll know what I'm talking about when you get there!). It is called Chosen by a Horse and it is an amazing book written by Susan Richards. I highly recomend it.
Also, I welcome flames, but please refrain from using profanity. ;)
Sometimes the basic plots of stories (mainly fanfics) are so horribly clichéd that no one really desires to read every single one of them, nor write another one. I read the one story that started all of this, one that the author claimed not to be fiction. She claimed that it was a recording, not something that she'd made up. Everyone knew that what she'd written about was impossible, and believed that she was merely joking. I thought nothing of it until it was my turn.
I came down to my horseback riding stable about four or more days a week. I didn't always get to ride, but I enjoyed grooming, petting, and just plain being around all of the horses. I was far from an expert on horses, but I did know basics and such, and was still learning. I was learning how to do competitive riding for dressage and etc. I wasn't actually sure if I was going to be in a horse show, but I did enjoy learning all of the fundamentals.
From dressage to barrel racing, my riding stable could teach anyone just about anything. I took a crack at jumping and barrel racing once, and wanted to very much to continue, until my parents found out and told me that I was never going to do either as long as I lived under their roof. When I asked why, their reason was that I could 'die'. I found this ridiculous. They could only name one person that has died from jumping and they wouldn't let me jump because of that, yet millions of people die from cars possibly every year, and they'd still let me get my driver's license when I was of age. Parents just made no sense.
The horse that I rode down at the stables was a magnificent American Saddlebred, who was fittingly named Flight. Flight was a flaming chestnut, no markings on his well-shaped face. His mane was short, but not cropped, and was a brilliant red mahogany color, perhaps even crimson. He had large, expressive eyes and graceful hooked ears, always seeming alert, while still managing to be playful. His neck was long and fined, arched at his poll, with deep and sloping shoulders. Prominent withers topped it all off, revealing him as a near perfect American Saddlebred in my mind. Judges may see something that the breed shouldn't have, or have a different opinion than me. I didn't care though.
Flight didn't belong to me but it didn't stop me from considering him my horse. I could spend hours around him, even if I wasn't riding him. Just grooming, petting, and, heck, being around him was great. Sometimes I'd just sit on the outside of the stable, against his stall. He had two openings on his stall, one in the front and one in the back. I'd read a book while he would stick his head out of the opening, sometimes seemingly to follow the words on the pages, and sometimes just nibbling on my hair. Whether he mistook my hair for hay, or just plain liked nibbling on it, I didn't know. Occasionally, I'd sit in Flight's stall and quietly read my book to him. I knew that he couldn't understand the story, or even what I was saying, but every now and then he'd stare at me and I could tell that he enjoyed just hearing the sound of my voice.
My mom dropped me off at the stable on a Wednesday evening because she had some errands to run and it might take her a while. Whenever she has to run a lot of errands, I ask if she can drop me off at the stable so I can spend time with the horses. It works out well because the stable isn't very far away and I get to be there for about three hours or more. Wednesday evenings were my favorite time to come to the stables because my friend had a lesson at 6:30 and she usually came early.
I found her in her horse's stall, about to tack him up. Most of the horses at the stable were Saddlebreds, and the horse that she rode was no exception. Pepper was bay, though his pelt was a different kind of brown, the color of mahogany almost instead of fire. I remembered the first time I met him he nibbled my fingers and then sneezed up my nose. Ah, such pleasant memories.
My friend's name was Michelle, a name that she really loved and was proud of. She was shorter than me by about an inch, possibly two, and she had semi-long dirty blonde hair. Her eyes were gray, always shining and lively. Shortly after I had met Michelle, she had shown me this stable, and I had immediately started taking lessons.
Michelle looked up at me as she finished with the saddle. She gave me a big 'ole grin as she reached for the bridle and held the bit in front of Pepper's mouth. He reluctantly opened his mouth as she shoved it in and strapped the throat lash.
"Hey there, Ami," she greeted, attaching the reins to the bridle, and taking Pepper's halter off of his neck. I smiled and gave Pepper an affectionate pat.
"Hi," I replied. Pepper snorted as Michelle began to lead him out of his stall. She rolled her eyes.
"C'mon Pepper, you lazy brute," she teased, leading him forward. Pepper nickered in protest, and I chuckled.
"I think he wants a break," I said.
"He's already had a break. He has a break whenever I'm not riding him!" I laughed.
"Well, my mom's running errands so I'm going to go see Flight." She nodded.
"You bring a book again?"
"You know it," I said, and pulled a small, paperback book out of my bag to show her.
"That one? Didn't I tell you to read the ending at home? It'll make you cry!"
"I already read it at home, and for the record, it did make me cry!" I moaned. The book was about a woman and a horse named Lay Me Down. The ending was so emotional and well written that it had actually made me cry. The last time that I'd cried while reading a book was in fourth grade, and I still didn't exactly cry. A few tears had rolled down my cheek. This book, however, made me cry. Like, flat out bawling. Michelle rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, okay then. Hey, so you just gonna sit with Flight the entire time again?" I shrugged. I hadn't really thought it through.
"I was thinking that maybe I'd walk the trail," I said. There was a forty-five minute trail on the farm's property. I'd never gone on it, and I wanted to check it out. What I really wanted to do was ride Flight on the trail . . . but I knew that it wasn't possible. Flight wasn't a lesson horse yet. He'd just retired from the show ring (although he's only twelve years old), and wasn't trained to be an academy (as they called them) horse yet. He was too goofy, and spirited I guess. I still thought that it would be nice to walk the trail, see what's on it and everything.
"Great. Let me know if anything exciting happens," Michelle joked. I smiled.
"Will do!" I laughed over my shoulder as I turned and walked towards Flight's stall.
I gently petted Flight's muzzle after I sat on the door of his stall. He lifted his head and prodded his hoof on the ground excitedly. I grinned and rubbed his neck tenderly, getting a slight whinny in response.
I glanced at the trail in the distance. Oh, how I'd love to ride Flight on it. I sighed and jumped down from his stall door, ready to start exploring it. As I walked away, I heard Flight pound his hoof noisily on his stall door. When I turned around to look at him, he stopped and perked up his ears. I rolled my eyes. Goofy horse. I started heading towards the trail again, and smiled, amused when Flight started pounding his stall door again. He was such a nut.
—x—
Nothing particularly exciting happened on the trail. I ended up finding a nice tree to sit under and pulled out my book out of my small backpack to read. I wanted to read the ending again. The last time I read it, I could hardly see the page through my tears. The author took the time to write the book's ending, and I wanted to read every word. I knew that I would start crying again. It was always easier to read something the second time.
I started reading at the part where the horse Lay Me Down was lying in the sun. Lay Me Down had had an eye infection for a while, and they knew that she had to be euthanized. Her owner wanted to wait until the right time to do it. It had been winter when it was decided that she must be euthanized, and her owner decided that since Lay Me Down loved the sun so much, she'd wait for a sunny day. That sunny day came . . .
And . . . it all goes downhill from there. Sad part after sad part after very sad part . . .
I didn't know how long I sat there reading, but the sound of hoof beats drew me out of my reveries. I snapped my head up and look over to my right. I didn't see anything, but the sound was getting closer. I could feel the Earth shaking beneath me. I knew it was a horse, but what I didn't know was who was riding it and why they were going so fast.
A magnificent white stallion emerged from the trees. I could hardly get a good look at him at the speed he was moving at, but I could see that he was strong, powerful . . . and no one was riding him. I leapt to my feet, preparing to chase him and bring him back to the farm, my first thought being "one of the horses got loose!" I didn't have a chance to.
More hooves sounded behind me, but they were more irregular and just plain odd sounding. I slipped my book back into my bag, and right as I did, something snatched me off of the ground. Just picked me up by my arm roughly, and threw me behind them at something. Wasn't that polite. I landed on my stomach (which knocked the air right out of me), and I could tell that I was on some kind of . . . thing. Something held my hands behind my back, and I was beginning to feel like some sort of captive. I looked up and my gaze met two beady red eyes. I knew exactly what it was, and frankly it made me more angry than confused.
"Let go of me!" I screamed at it, squirming on the back of the giant brown pig to kick the stupid green thing that was holding me. It let out a grunt of surprise, and I almost smiled. Then it slapped me. Hard. I groaned and leaned back a little bit. Ouch. Anger churned inside my stomach and I gritted my teeth. The idiot had just slapped me. It. Was. Going. To. Die. I shook loose of its grip, seized my small backpack, and raised it above my head, turning to face the hideous green thing. I brought it down on its head, and then before he could recovery, hit him with it again across the side of his face.
"Take this, you dirty, filthy, idiotic . . ." I proceeded to call him ever insult that I could possibly think of, while continuing to beat him with my bag. Ah, the power of bags!
Suddenly, the green thing's partner in crime (who was driving the giant pig), turned around and grabbed me by my neck. I yelped in surprise, and tried to get free. Apparently, this one was stronger than the other one. The other green thingy gave a little grin and took the opportunity to punch my face. Ever been punched by a little green demon? If not, let me tell you, it hurts. He punched me in my stomach and I tried kicking him. Surprisingly, it worked. I got him somewhere and he groaned slightly. His partner said something to him angrily. I figured that he said something like, "You stupid, worthless weakling!" But, I didn't have much time to think about it before it flung me off the back of its giant pig.
I landed on my side in a puddle of water. I blinked in bewilderment and sat up, dazed. As soon as my sense came back to me, I remembered my book and looked around for my backpack. Thankfully, it had fallen off of my back before I landed in the water and was laying a few feet away from me, on dry land. I grunted and slowly got to my feet. What had just happened? I walked over to my bag, slinging it across my back and taking a look around. I definitely wasn't on the trail anymore.
When my adrenaline wore out, I realized something: I'd just been abducted by Bulblins!
--x--
By now I was wishing that I had a softball with me, something hard that I could chuck at the Bulblins as I watched them ride away in the distance. I wasn't through giving it a piece of my mind. I looked around me and inside of my backpack. Not a single rock or anything that I could use. Ugh. I'd find a way to get back at them later.
What really surprised me was how I was taking all of this. Here I was, standing in the middle of some foreign land, just escaping being held hostage by two fictional creatures, and I was thinking of chucking a softball at a Bulblin. Where was I anyway? I looked at my surroundings, trying to use some of my ninth-grade logic to make some sense of all of this. Of course, it didn't.
What I saw was the sun beginning to set in the distance, casting a shadow over a large and beautiful bridge. I'd seen it before, of course, but not like this. The last time I saw it was when I was playing a Legend of Zelda game in the basement of my house. I stared in awe at the one and only Bridge of Eldin.
I started to make my way over to the bridge, wondering if I'd missed any of the action, but then stopped myself. I was able to put two and two together and know that I was in Hyrule, in the field outside of Kakariko Village to be exact. If I was right that meant that there were three Bulblin on the bridge: two at either side and one waiting at the top of the side facing me. All three were archers. I could have easily taken them . . . if they were on my television screen where they were supposed to be! I sighed in exasperation. This was going to be difficult.
I figured that since I'd been kidnapped by Bulblins on giant pigs that I always forgot the name of, Link hadn't done his 'heroly duties' yet. If he had, they'd be on our side and left me alone. I couldn't see whether or not the bridge was fixed from where I stood. I almost hoped it wasn't, recalling that at one point in the game, there were three Twilit Messengers on the other side of the bridge. I didn't want to run into them. Especially since my only weapon was a small backpack with a book in it that I'd used like an old lady beating up a purse snatcher. I almost smiled at the thought.
Ugh. What got me into this mess? Then I remembered the horse. What had happened to him? Why were they chasing him? What had he done to them? Where was he? I looked around wildly for the beautiful creature, but he was nowhere to be seen. My heart sank with disappointment. I hoped that he got away safely. The poor horse was probably still being chased, unless the Bulblins changed course when they tossed me overboard. I was still mad about that and I felt that I had every right to be.
I didn't exactly know what to do now. I'd been dumped in the middle of a Hylian field with no weapon. I couldn't go across the Bridge of Eldin because of the archers, and I didn't know if Kakariko was still filled with monsters. A wiser person might have chosen to go to Kakariko, figuring that if there were still monsters there, they'd find Renado and wait for Link. I, on the other hand, was still too mad at the idiots that brought me here to have that thought cross my mind, and took off angrily in the direction that they disappeared into, mumbling what I thought of them under my breath.
I was standing on the edge of the bridge leading into the next Hyrule field when I realized how stupid I was being. I couldn't even hear the hoof beats now. How was I supposed to follow them? I was back where I'd started, not knowing what to do and where to go. I looked up at the Hyrule field and my breath caught in my throat. Yeah, my memory was good enough to remember the three Bulblin archers, but it completely forgot all of the stupid monsters in Hyrule Field. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I took a step backwards and just watched them for a couple of minutes. They didn't seem to have noticed me yet, so I assumed that I was safe.
Not knowing what else to do, I sat down where I was, at the edge of the bridge, and pulled out my book. Yes, I was stuck in the middle of a crisis that had gotten me abducted by fictional characters and taken me in a land from a video game and I decided to pull out my book and read. I was sure that I'd think of something. I just needed . . . time. Time and a good book to calm me down a little.
I found that I couldn't concentrate on my book (imagine that), so I took out my notebook and began to doodle. Before long, I'd drawn a picture of tall, strong white horse. I gave him a long mane and made it appear to have just been taken out of braids. His tail was long, but it didn't drag on the ground. Instead, it billowed in the wind, making him appear to be a horse out of a fairy tale, the kind that only the royalty or the hero rode. I stared at it for a while, still wondering why the Bulblins had been chasing it.
An angry screech tore me out from my daydreaming, and I was shocked to see a hideous purple Bokoblin charging towards me. I stared in horror as he approached me. What had made him see? Last time I checked he was a lot further away! He was almost upon me and I began to scoot backwards. I was sure that my eyes were the size of golf balls. My heart pounded against my chest. What was I going to do? I didn't have a weapon! I highly doubted that trying to beat him like an old lady did with her purse wasn't exactly going to work on this guy. It must've been my lucky day 'cause there was no stick next to me for me to use, no rock, no nothing!
The Bokoblin was upon me now, raising its mutated stick weapon in preparation to strike. I began to shake and tried to move backwards, hitting the side of the bridge. Now what? I tried to look menacing towards it, trying to narrow my eyes enough to produce a decent glare, but I knew that my fear showed through. I could feel it. It was an icy feeling where my anger had been earlier, slowly moving up my body, freezing every inch of my as it crept up my spine.
I was admitting defeat when another screech sounded from behind the Bokoblin. Oh no, I thought, there's two of them! I closed my eyes, preparing for the worse. I heard a sickening crunching sound, but felt no pain. I cracked one eyes open.
The Bokoblin was lying face down on the ground in front of me. I assumed it was unconscious. Above it stood a lone stallion, the sun illuminating his snowy pelt. He set his golden eyes on me, and reared up in the air, lashing out with his front legs. I stayed frozen on the ground, not believing what I was seeing. The stallion tipped his head back and let out what I referred to as the Stallion's Scream, the wind blowing his mane back and his tail billowing in the wind. He was beautiful, and must have come from the finest of bloodlines. He looked just like I'd imagine a fairy tale horse to look like. Just like in my picture . . .
And then, he whirled around and in less than a second he was off. I just sat there, watching him leave.
