Disclaimer: I do not own Zelda. I'm only borrowing the world and some of the characters for this fanfiction because I have writer's block with all my original stories.
A/N: This was the first Zelda fanfic I wrote. I'm still writing it, so I'll try to update it when I can.
The man smiled a dark grin that made Drinan shake in his armor. Drinan, one of the dog-headed warriors called dark nites, shouldn't have been scared of anything- he was so good with his jagged greatsword- but the man wielded a power called magic. Drinan had seen many a moblin- which were wingless, blue skinned, pig faced imps about the size of a dog- meet his maker when the man sent a fireball out of his finger at him. The dark nite could never compete with that kind of power.
Get on with it, Drinan thought. I haven't got time for one of your speeches about glory and conquest. But there was no escaping it. The man often recited long monologues before getting to the heart of a matter. Drinan didn't really mind listening to the man's speeches, but there was something about the man that made the dark nite feel… uncomfortable.
The man had summoned Drinan from the war room deep in the mountain to a balcony near its summit. Usually, one could see the beautiful lands that lay beyond Drinan's home in the mountains, but not that day. A dreadful fog had spread all the way from the mountains into the foothills and beyond, to the Dragon Lands. To the dark nite, it seemed as if he and the man were standing on the clouds. Drinan knew that the man had summoned the fog, but for what purpose. The dark nite was an expert on the subject of war strategies, and still he could see no reason that a sudden fog would advance their forces.
"General Drinan," the man spoke suddenly in a soft, yet commanding voice. He turned his head slightly to see the dark nite, since his back had been turned when Drinan arrived at the balcony. Drinan snapped to attention, clicking his heels together and standing stock still. The man smirked, a horrible expression that seemed to fit with his dark gray skin. "That really isn't necessary, Drinan. You're my favorite servant and are therefore free of some protocols that certain others must observe." Drinan assumed a more relaxed pose, with his hands clasped behind his back and feet spread apart, but the dark nite could not get his mind to do the same. The man was so… unnerving.
The man looked back towards the fog. "Do you know what wins wars?" he asked.
Drinan opened his mouth to list all the factors that could do just that, but caught himself just in time. The man talked in riddles, and giving a military answer would most likely upset his superior. The dark nite answered the only way he knew would satisfy the man. "I don't know, sir."
The dark man looked back at Drinan, his smile gone, replaced by a blank stare. He sighed, "Oh, Drinan, you know the answer better than anyone else. The decisive blow decides the winner, but what allows you to deliver this fatal strike?"
It took Drinan all of two seconds to come up with that answer. "Stupid moves on the enemy's part, sir." The dark nite was gaining confidence with every passing moment. If he just allowed the man to explain everything, he'd return to the war room with his head firmly on his shoulders.
The man nodded and continued, "Yes, Drinan. Stupid moves decide the war even more than the final blow, but people don't make bad decisions on purpose, you know. What drives them to lose so much of their senses that they make that fatal move?"
The dark nite pondered this for a few more seconds than the previous question. Even though he never really thought about it in the past, Drinan knew the answer. "Desperation, sir."
The man suddenly turned to face Drinan. "No, Drinan. That is what happens once the decisive blow has been struck. No, desperation is not what wins a war." The man still wore a blank expression, but his voice carried with it a trace of anger. Drinan lowered his head so the man would know that he was sorry for his incorrect answer. That seemed to satisfy the man, as he turned back to the fog. "A fog does hardly any damage to the rito tribe, and still I summoned one. Why do you think I did that, Drinan?"
The dark nite racked his brain for the answer, but none came. Drinan spoke as humbly as he could, "No, sir, I do not know why."
"Fear, Drinan," the man continued. "Fog is but a herald of my return. The people of Hyrule know what I am capable of, so the fog makes them fearful of what is to come. When a person is fearful, he does stupid things. Fear is what wins wars. Whoever is most fearful of the other is the side that loses. Do you understand, Drinan?"
For once, Drinan understood the man perfectly. "Yes, sir, I believe I do."
The man turned back to face Drinan. His smile had returned. "Then you know that we must make the people of Hyrule as scared of my return as possible. Do you know the prophecy, Drinan?"
The dark nite shivered again, but not because of the man's smile. The prophecy was the only thing that would keep the people of Hyrule united should the man start spreading his creatures across the world for the second time. A united foe was the last thing Drinan wanted if he wanted to win the war that would soon be started. The dark nite spoke in a softer voice than before, "Yes, sir, I know of it. It will cause many problems should you begin the invasion."
"Of course it will," the man said. "So I want to make sure the prophecy can never be realized."
Drinan perked up at that, rising to his full height. "How do you intend to do this, sir?"
The man's smile widened. "I know where one of the three children lives, Drinan. The one of the ocean resides on Sashilas Isle."
Drinan smiled at this. "So you want me to kill him, sir?"
"No," the man said lowering his voice so the echo in the mountains couldn't be heard, "I want you to go to the island and kill everyone there. Then destroy it. Make the island sink to the bottom of the ocean. Make it a symbol of the fate that awaits anyone who dares defy me."
The man threw his head back and laughed. Drinan laughed along with the man, but inside he was sobbing. Hyrule may have been the enemy, but the land was still his home. Sashilas was a beautiful place, with towering mountains and sweeping beaches. The thought of destroying it made Drinan sick to his stomach. But the man was his master, and Drinan had to obey, no matter how horrible the order.
When the man stopped laughing, Drinan bowed. Gulping down his disgust, the dark nite said, "It would be my honor, my Lord."
With that he turned around and left. Although Drinan couldn't see his master's face, he could feel the man's evil eyes staring at him as he walked down the stairs to the rally room. To complete this mission, Drinan would need many of his master's slaves. All of them, perhaps. He'd never sunk an island before.
A/N: This chapter was really fun to write. Please review.