Legend of Zelda: The Beginning - Prologue
Long, long ago, in a land far from here known as Hyrule, there was a great War. The Noble families in Hyrule rose up in rebellion against the Royal Family of Hyrule. Times were hard, and many lives were lost in the great fires that burned across all of Hyrule as well as in the many battles and ambushes. It was during these times of great turmoil that the Three Great Goddesses saw fit to outline the destinies of the greatest Heros to ever live. Din, Goddess of Power. Farore, Goddess of Courage. Nayru, Goddess of Wisdom.
During the Great War, the King and Queen, along with most of their children, were killed in a raid by the rebels. Only their youngest son, Prince Rashyael, his wife, the Princess Bertalima, and their infant daughter, the Princess Zelda, survived the raid. Though still young, the Prince fearlessly rose up and took his place among his ancestors as King. While many were killed before the rebels were defeated and Hyrule returned to peaceful times, two of the last deaths to occur would prove to be some of the most important...
Chapter One
"Look out, Brai!" Sir Kirsley ducked under a thrust from one opponent and parried the thrust of another. Moving to riposte immediately, Kirsley flicked the blade into the young man's face, blinding him if not far worse. "That's what you get, traitor!" the young nobleman shrieked triumphantly as he turned to seek out his brother again. Brailyn was holding his own against a group of three enemy foot soldiers. Kirsley ran one through from the back, having few scruples. These men were fighting their King, and while it might be a dirty technique, it was better than some the rebels used. Fighting back to back with his brother, Sir Kirsley lunged forward with devestating power. The rebels latest dirty trick had been to throw the three year old Princess Alispeth from her bedroom window during the raid that had claimed the lives of most members of the Royal Family as well as most of the living Sheikah. Remembering this, Kirsley vowed to himself again that he would see every rebel pay. With a smirk, he saw his opening and managed a mortal blow on the man he was facing off against.
Sir Kirsley and Sir Brailyn were brothers, the youngest sons of a lesser nobility. When the rest of their family turned traitor with the other Nobles, Kirsley and Brailyn fled to Castle Town to pledge their loyalty, Kirsley with his wife Adara and their infant son, Samus. Kirsley and Brailyn both joined the Royal Guard and had been fighting their own family and the other nobles for almost five years now. And finally, the end was in sight, victory within their grasp. After the last raid, all royal power was consolidated in one possible person, Prince Rashyael, leaving no warriing royalist factions. And that last little show of the rebels had lost them plenty of supporters. What decent person would support the rebels when they had coldly chosen to murder defenseless royal children instead of taking them captive?
Turning to face the attackers with his brother, Kirsley saw too late the trap. A young man, no, just a boy, was perched on the ledge above them, ready to jump, sword held ready. "Brai!" he screamed, and without thinking he pushed his brother down and out of the way. Kirsley didn't even feel the blade slide through his chest; he figured it must hurt, but his body was probably already in shock. The boy holding onto the sword that was planted deeply into his chest was younger than he'd even thought. How had he ever thought he could be a man? He couldn't be more than twelve, if that. Looking into the boy's face as his conciousness faded, Kirsley saw sheer terror and remorse staring back. Irony, it was, to be killed by a mere child who was too afraid to take any glory in the great point he had scored for his side in the war.
Brailyn staggered to his feet, knowing already the awful truth without seeing a thing. On his feet, he watched his brother drift to the ground, looking as though he were falling in slow motion. "Kirsley!" he screamed, the sound heart-wrenching. He shoved aside the man closest to him and slashed his sword across the next man's abdomen, a deadly attack. In the next few moments, fueled by his grief and anger, Brailyn fought with greater skill than he ever had in his life. When he finally had a chance to pause and go to his brother, the rebels were pulling back. Kirsley had fallen scant moments before the battle was won.
The boy who had struck Kirsley down stared in terror as Brailyn approached where he stood and Kirsley lay. His sword was still plunged in the man's chest, the boy having not been strong enough to pull it out. The kid ran, and Brailyn didn't chase him down. He didn't have the heart to. He was just a child, forced into this fight by the elder's in his family when they ran out of men of appropriate age. Still panting from the exertion, Brailyn dropped to his knees next to his brother, who lay on the ground with a sword more than halfway through his chest, still breathing in ragged gasps. Brailyn was not ashamed to realize his face was damp with tears as well as sweat as he knelt beside his dying brother. "Kirs..." he whispered, his voice cracking.
Kirsley opened his eyes, blinking, trying to force them to focus. "Brai-Brailyn?" he whispered, eyes darting back and forth, voice strained. "Brother. 'Dara. Adara. M-My boys." Kirsley stammered. He reached up with the last of his failing strength to grasp his brother's hand. "W-watch... K-keep...safe. Love-". Kirsley's eyes widened and he let his breath out in a gasping sigh, his hand sliding from his brother's.
Brailyn stared at him and bowed his head, feeling the intense grief rack his body. He swallowed and did his best to force the tears from his voice. "I will, Kirs. I'll watch them, I swear it to you." Brailyn forced himself to stand up, forced the fog from his head. "I'll protect them. And I'll tell them the last thing you said was you loved them." Brailyn hoisted his brother over his shoulder. "I love you too, brother." Brailyn said softly, and he began the trudge back to Castle Town.
