A/N: Ok, so I wasn't going to do this story until I finished my other one, but I've found my urgency for that one failing. Not my motivation, and it's not like writer's block. It's just that I can't seem to feel the urgency to make time for it outside work and school. So, in effort to keep writing, I'm starting a new story. I have to say, part of the reason is very selfish. This one isn't a crossover, so it'll most likely get more attention than the other. I'm hoping that will help me to be more focused. So, here we go. I hope you enjoy my story as much as I plan to.

**This story deals with darker themes. There will be character death. Be aware.

§ Prologue: The Vicar §

A vast crowd of citizens stood in the courtyard at the center of Castle Town, watching and waiting in anxious anticipation. The streets were packed with bodies, with every nook and niche claiming a view of the proceedings filled by yet another member of the endless masses. In such a gathering, one of such size and density, one might expect festivity. Sound and fury; bustling motion and cacophonous commotion. But what should have been a warm, cheerful afternoon instead proved cold and silent. The multitudes observed in silent stoic vigil.

Before them, rising up in prodigious grandeur rivalling even the splendor of Hyrule Castle itself, stood a massive cathedral. Gothic ornamentation weaved like a web around towering spires, and flying buttresses supported the main structure, featuring at its the center a stained glass window depicting the triforce, in all its magnificence, with the symbology of the Golden Goddesses. The cathedral stood just to the west of the royal palace, and the buildings near the entrance had been removed, allowing the public to see the smaller number elected to participate.

At the base of edifice stood a few hundred people sequestered from the others. A large assembly, but in comparison a select group. Each wore a robe with a cowl obscuring their heads. The assembly was arranged in three distinct sections: on the left the devotees donned blue robes, in the center red, and on the right green. On an impressive balcony overlooking them stood several more figures. Three acolytes in purple garments remained ominously present behind three more individuals. These three out of all the assembly were alone in that their hoods were raised enough that their faces could be seen, portraits of terror.

Last among the assembly was an imposing character in bright golden robes. This man faced the congregation before him, declaring, "The accused presented have been found before the Ecclesia to be Faithless in the sight of the Goddesses. Only through immersion in the Divine Presences of Courage, Power, and Wisdom can their impurity be cleansed. Thusly, we surrender them to the Great Mothers, that They might restore the Faithless into Devout Righteousness."

Turning to the black-robed captives, he lifted his head to the skies, allowing his hood to fall. "Render Your Verdict, Your Hallowed Judgment, oh Goddesses, that we in Human Fallacy not condemn your Servant," he implored the heavens.

The priest moved to the first man and lifted his large Triforce amulet toward him.

"Render Your Verdict!" the assembly echoed.

The talisman, identical to the stained glass window behind it, began to glow brightly. The man, dark haired and sturdy, suddenly began to bleed from his mouth. He looked on, stoically resigned to what he knew would follow.

The congregation and the public beyond bore voiceless witness as the violet-wearing attendants lifted his head and slit his throat.

"Hear our plea!" shouted the assembly.

The golden cleric moved to the next, a woman of Kakarikan descent, and lifted the amulet toward her, again invoking the deities, "Render Your Verdict!"

Again the assembly repeated the phrase.

Just as with the man before her, blood trickled out from between her lips. Frantically, hysterically, she screamed in protest. Her cries rang out, piercing the thick silence, yet still unable to rouse the crowd from their tacit consent.

The attendants lifted her head and slit her throat.

"Hear our plea!" shouted the assembly.

The priest moves toward the final person, a blonde Ordonian adolescent, with the talisman. Her face was a mask of pure, unadulterated fear as the presider brought before her the accursed object.

"Render Your Verdict!" he appealed once more, and one final time the assembly echoed.

Her mouth began to drip blood. Too petrified to move, even to think, Ilia simply watched as the attendants lifted her head and slit her throat.

"Hear our plea!" shouted the assembly.

"We humbly appeal to thee, Holy Three! Hear our plea for our Fallen Brethren, and take them into Your Blessed Light!" orated the golden cleric.

The assembly responded in kind, "By Your Hallowed Mercies!"

Facing the acolytes once more, the priest declared, "We thank you, Sacred Mistresses, for your gracious Sanctification of these errant Faithless."

A/N: … Did I mention there would be character death? I did, right? So, I've been planning this for a long time, and after finally having written some, I'm incredibly excited to see how it plays out. Feel free to join me.

If you have any advice or criticism, feel free and encouraged to leave a review. But never feel obligated. I wouldn't want to guilt you out of reading from some sense that you have to interact with me if you do. Some people just want to read, and I get that. That's often me.

I most likely won't have any regular update schedule, so don't expect one, but I will do my best to update it at least enough that you can know it's not dead.

I think that's all the house-keeping, so I'll go ahead and sign off! See you next chapter!

-Samswimmer