After the events of Twilight Princess, Link and Princess Zelda are faced with a country mangled by war - and their own suffering souls. The light spirits have retreated to the Sacred Realm, and they must find consolation as they push forwards - unaware of an old, violent darkness encountering Hyrule for the first time.
Welcome to the debut of Fundamental Diogenes.
If you like it, please drop a review or send me a message. Criticism and appreciation are equally welcome; a connection to my creation provides plenty enough satisfaction for me. I'll keep this brief, and focus on writing for now.
Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda video game franchise, all characters and objects it incorporates, and the copyrighted content I link to are the property of Nintendo Co., Ltd. This fanfiction is not created or distributed expressly for profit, and falls under the fair use provision of the Digital Millenium Copyright Act. Fundamental Diogenes reserves copyright on all original content.
I recommend reading this chapter while listening to Light and Darkness, part of Twilight Princess' OST legally published on YouTube by BrawlBRSTMs3 X.
Prologue
Hyrule. South of Castle Town, south of the great fields. The province of Faron. A great forest; the Faron Woods. Far into its depths, beyond ancient, colossal trees, was a sacred grove. All was still; the elder glade slumbered. Timelessness suffused the heavy air, pervading all that was, is, and will be. Hidden, the ruined Temple of Time crumbled. Gnarled, knotty roots divided a deteriorating flagged stone courtyard. Its dilapidation nonwithstanding, the temple remained a gateway through time.
More importantly, however, it housed the Master Sword.
At rest in its pedestal, the Blade of Evil's Bane blazed with light, more brilliant than the shining chandeliers of Hyrule Castle. Sunrays and moonbeams alike pierced the wooded canopy, eternally flooding its hallowed plinth. Shining ever brighter than the illumination striking it, the burnished blade radiated a celestial glow.
The Master Sword rested, having slain the greatest evil of the age – Ganondorf, Prince of Thieves. Months passed quietly in its slumber. Curiously, the blade's reflection began to dim. If any observed it, day after day, they would notice the sword lose its ethereal luster. Of course, the Sacred Grove was isolated, and none were.
Gradually, something curiouser happened: the Master Sword dulled. Its edge, of course, was unblemished, immortal. It was the luminous sheen that went flat, subdued. If any examined the sword with astute care, they might discern the faintest wisps of smoky shadow convalesce just beneath the hilt and glide down the dim blade, only to dissipate. Of course, the Temple of Time was isolated, and none were.
In the course of time, the shadows ceased to break apart. A pool of seething darkness developed on the pedestal, dwelling at the base of the inactive Master Sword. It bubbled and frothed in an intangible, illusory manner, creeping outward, slowly, constantly. If any watched the murky blemish, they may perceive it evolve, acquiring an awareness. It struggled from the blade, pulling resolutely away, inch by halting inch, tendrils snaking toward freedom. Of course, the Master Sword was isolated, and none were.
Ultimately, the shadow succeeded. Tearing itself from the Master Sword, it flit away into the darkness of the trees. If any through Hyrule had been weighing their heart, it would have grown heavier. Abruptly, inexplicably, they would feel a little more evil in the world. Of course, the hearts of the people of Hyrule were isolated, and none were.
Remaining in its pedestal, the Master Sword flared with sacred light once again. No longer did it slumber, for evil had awoken in the world once more. Unwavering, the blade would follow, waiting to be wielded skyward once more... Waiting for the hero...