The Minish Cap Link's point of view. A short and probably pointless drabble through his eyes and thoughts, but I figured I might as well post it. Prompted by the cover picture for this story. This acted as my daily writing prompt, so it's short.
This is a sorry first story for the Legend of Zelda fanfiction base, but I do have two really good LoZ fanfics as a work-in-progress, so I'll have my time to shine later!
I love broadening on a character's thoughts and feelings as I best explain their joys and sorrows. It's so satisfying.
For now, enjoy, review if you could, and thank you for reading.
I plunged the blade of my sword into the earth and struggled to stand. I steadied myself with a hand on the hilt of my sword and by setting one knee on the ground while lunging onto the other leg to try and stand. Ezlo lay limp on my head, grimacing in pain from the tears in his fabric. I lifted my gaze toward the Moblin before me, also lifting itself from the ground despite its wounds.
My breaths were heavy. My body didn't want to obey me. My tights were slashed through to my skin in various places. Blood trickled from the cuts on my legs, dripping down across the white fabric. I had a gash across my left hip and one across my heart, having only skimmed my tunic and cut my flesh. My arms and sleeves were torn all over. My limbs were shaking, stinging, protesting at every movement and ragged breath.
But I didn't come this far to give up. I had watched Zelda freeze to stone as I lay helpless on the castle grounds, my attempt to protect her futile. I had been tasked with her rescue by her father, the king himself. He had placed an unbelievable amount of trust in me. I was only 12 years old, a humble blacksmith's son with no real fighting experience. I at least had some skill with swordplay, but still—I was so young. Chosen simply for my motivation to save Zelda and my assumed ability to see the Picori, an ability vital to rescuing Zelda.
In my weakness, I had a moment of despair. I was so young and inexperienced. Did I really think I could master a sword and stand up to monsters and eventually Vaati? How did I ever believe I could quell the encroaching darkness and defeat the evil threatening my kingdom? Hyrule was in need of a hero far superior to me, with more skill, more war experience, and more years of life.
As the beast got closer to his feet, I found my strength. I'm not a hero merely because I wield a sword. I'm a hero because I choose to do what is right. I fight for the good. I am courageous, and I have grown stronger than I believed was possible. It sometimes even feels as if I carry strength outside my own. I'm a hero. It doesn't matter what my background, prior experience, or age. I am a hero because I choose to fight.
I was going to slay these monsters, defeat Vaati, and get Zelda back. I would be the one to save Hyrule. I couldn't doubt myself or cave to these moments of weakness and expect to survive.
With a battle cry of pain and rage to urge me on, I pushed to my feet, tearing my sword from the soil and raising it to slay the beast, rushing toward the monster before my body could stagger.
