Author's Note: Welcome to another story. For those interested, I will be continuing on with my Heart of Darkness story. I just haven't had the...motivation I guess to work on it much. Other things going on and such. Plus, my story ideas have been changing a bit.

Anyway, this new story is new, and not in any way connected to the Zelda Universe we know. I'll of course draw characters and such from there, but this is a different place.

And, of course, I do not own the Legend of Zelda, or any of its characters. Only those original characters created by me in the story.

So, enjoy.

VOLUME 1 - THE LEGEND OF ZELDA

Ch. 1

The Village of Ordon

The air is warm, with a musty odor that betrays the ancient age of the circular stone chamber the young man finds himself standing in. It is a room he's never seen before. Indeed it is a place the likes of which he's never laid eyes on. He stands on the outside of a great stone ring set in the center of the floor, the strange symbols etched into the stone drawing his attention immediately.

"Only the life of the living will open the Well," a deep monotone voice echoes out from within the chamber. Startled, the young man glances up, and for the first time notices a number of figures standing in the dark chamber along with him. He can't make out any of their features, but can tell that they, like him, are standing along the outside of the stone ring.

Then, to his great astonishment a figure of pure light shimmers into existence before his very eyes. It is a young woman. The most beautiful woman he's ever seen before in his life. He can see a ghost of blue in her eyes, and it's enough for the young man to feel completely enchanted by this lovely vision. When she speaks, it's with a voice full of fear and desperation, "Help me Link," she cries out, just before a great sea of black overcomes him.

And Link snaps awake with an audible gasp. Taking a deep breath he runs a hand across his head, finding it covered in sweat. Rolling over and sitting on the edge of his bed he notices his nightshirt clinging to his body from sweat as well. "That was the strangest one in a while," he mutters, dropping his head into his hands. With a sigh Link stands, shaking away the rest of the cobwebs and stretching his muscles to prepare himself for the day.

Splashing water on his face from the basin sitting atop his dresser he remembered what today is. It's one of his days off and his birthday, along with the Harvest Festival that very evening. With renewed excitement he quickly finishes readying himself for the day and walks outside of his small house to a crisp autumn morning. With a spring in his step Link sets off along the winding path into the village proper.

Coming up the path towards Link is Bo, mayor of the village of Ordon, and owner of Ordon's only inn, The Steel Ox. "There you are lad," he says in his booming voice, waving a hand at Link. "I was wondering if you'd ever wake up today."

"It's still early Bo," Link replies with a sheepish smile, glancing up to check the position of the sun.

"Of course, of course," Bo says, clapping Link on the shoulder. "Walk with me a bit son." Link nods his head and they continue on down the path into town. "Gonna be a fine day," Bo remarks, and Link only nods his head in response, lost in thoughts of his own. Bo smiles at Link's absentmindedness, "So how's the new house?

"It's great," Link replies, his face lighting up. "I still can't believe the whole village pitched in to build it for me."

"Well, as much as Rusl and his family love you, you're a man grown now," Bo explains. "It was time for you to be on your own. Besides, after all you've done for us, it's the very least we could do." Bo studies Link a moment and recognizes the look on his face. "I know what you're thinking boy, and stop it this moment. It not for you last year most everyone in this village would be dead at the hands of those wolfos. I knew Rusl had been training you, but you were a real wonder with that sword. I think even he was shocked."

Link only nods, recalling the events Bo is talking about. It was a year past now on a cold November evening. Link had been wakeful, disturbed b one of the strange dreams he sometimes had, and decided to take a walk through the village. He had been strolling along the outskirts, near the treeline of the Ordon Forest when a strange sensation overcame him, a kind of chill filled him, yet it wasn't the weather because there had been no wind. The chill had gotten stronger as he walked along, until finally a low growl could be heard from the pitch black of the forest beyond. A sudden rustling of the brush alerted Link, and he quickly dropped to his knees as a ravenous grey wolfos lunged over his head, its claws skimming his hair. Luckily for Link he never went out at night without his sword. He sprung to his feet and his right hand darted to the blade on his left hip, drawing it and taking the creature's head off in one swift motion.

Link instinctually darted back towards the village knowing that where there was one wolfos there'd be more, the always hunt in packs. As Link moved swiftly through the village he put at the call, yelling "wolfos," trying to raise the remaining villages from their beds.

The first to rouse from their home was naturally Rusl, sword in hand and eyes keenly alert despite having just been rudely wakened from sleep. Rusl cast a look at Link, who nodded towards the south end of the village. Rusl nodded, no words needed between the two. As more villages began streaming out of their homes Link and Rusl were already wading into the first of the wolfos to appear. The fight didn't last long, and the villagers were hardly needed, as Rusl and Link were death to the beasts. Though, if you ever ask Rusl about it, he'd swear it'd all been Link, a whirlwind of death amongst the wolfos. "That boy did things with a sword even I've never seen," Rusl could be heard saying when asked about that night, though Link himself would never admit to it.

"I wasn't the only one there Bo," Link says. "Rusl was there, along with plenty of others."

"I know who was there lad," Bo answers, but decides not to press the issue with Link. "Well, we're here," Bo says, motioning.

"What?" Link says, blinking and realizing that they now stand in front of Rusl's home, where Link had lived all his life.

The door opens, and Rusl is standing there in the entryway, his grin broad. "Happy Birthday Link," Rusl says, clapping Link on the shoulder. "Come on in son. Bo, you joining us?"

"Can't at the moment Rusl," Bo responds. "got a couple of strangers at the inn. I'm sure I'll see you all later at the festival. "With a wave he walks off in the opposite direction as Rusl ushers Link inside."

"Oh, Happy Birthday Link," Uli, Rusl's wife says, giving Link a quick hug before seating him on the couch. "I have a few things we'll bring by your place later, make it feel like a proper home."

"I'm sure everyone will want to celebrate with you at the Harvest Festival tonight as well, but I have something I wanted to give you in private." Rusl sets a long wooden case on the table in front of Link, motioning for him to open it.

Link lifts the lid of the box open, then turns his attention to the beautiful cloth inside. He unfurls the cloth to reveal the most beautiful sword Link has ever seen. "Rusl," Link says quietly, unable to tear his gaze from the wondrous sword. The handle seems to be cast out of dark bronze, with dark green leather wrapping the handle for the grip. Next to the sword in the case is a wooden sheath, wrapped in green leather as well, with bronze supports. "Rusl, this sword is magnificent. I can't accept it."

"You can, and you will," Rusl says with a warm smile. "I'm no longer a young man Link, and even at my prime I could never really master this sword."

"What do you mean?" Link asks. "And what do these mean mean?" Link says, referring to the symbols etched into the surface of the mirror like blade."

"It says, May the winds of Farore aid the Master of this blade," Rusl replies.

"The winds of Farore," Link repeats and then his eyes go wide with sudden realization. "This is…"

"One of the three Swords of the Goddesses, yes," Rusl finishes for him. "Farore's Wind, the Sword of Courage. Forged by the elven peoples, the Kokiri centuries ago. Go on, pick it up."

"Link does so, reverently lifting the sword from the case. "It's so light," Link observes, his right hand gripping the hilt. "The balance is pefect."

Rusl nods, "It is said that Farore's Wind gifts whoever masters it with unfaltering speed and courage."

"Then the legends are true," Link says. "And the other two swords exist."

"I expect they do," Rusl says with a shrug. "Though I've never seen them. Din's Fire, the Sword of Power. Crafted by those who dwell in the mountains, the Goron. And Nayru's Love, the Sword of Wisom. Forged by they who live in the rivers and the seas, the Zora."

"Thank you Rusl," Link says, watching as a flash of green ripples across the surface of the sword. Link sheathes the blade, and straps it about his waist, letting it rest on his left hip. "I don't know what else to say."

"You don't need to say a thing," Rusl says. "You've always been like a son to Uli and I. And Colin looks up to you like an older brother. You're a part of our family."

"Thank you," Link says a little hoarsely. "But how did you come by this sword Rusl?"

"I wasn't always just a villager Link," Rusl answers with a smile. "Bo and I, at one time were reckless youths who simply yearned for adventure. We weren't satisfied with simply living in the village, we wanted to explore the wide world. So, when the war with Vaati broke out, and the King called for all able bodied men, we left and joined the Hylian military. For two years we served King and country, until just as quickly as it had begun, the war was over and Vaati was gone. Two years of war and bloodshed had put quite the damper on our desire to see the world, and all we wanted was to return home. By that time we both were serving on the King's personal guard, and as reward for our service, he granted us leave to return to live out our lives in Ordon. On the road home were set upon by moblins. There were too many, so we fled into Faron."

"Faron?" Link asks.

"The Forest of Faron," Rusl explains. "The place we call the Old Forest. I know everyone is forbidden from entering, but we had no choice. It was night, and we fled inside, thinking the moblins would not enter. We awoke the next morning to the sounds of battle. We followed, and found that the moblins had waited for morning and then entered the forest. But we found them in battle with the Kokiri. They were…amazing. Graceful. I've never seen a sword used like that before, or since…until a year ago," he says, looking at Link briefly before continuing. "They probably didn't need us, from the look of things, but they were grateful none the less. They allowed us to stay with them for a few weeks. And I'll tell you Link, I'm a happily married man, always have been. But those few weeks Bo and I spent in Faron were the most at peace I've felt in all my life. I was…content. Upon our time of leaving, the Kokiri gifted both Bo and I. They give him those great steel boots you've seen him wear before. And to me, they gave Farore's Wind."

"But that's enough story for one day," Rusl says, standing. "You should probably get going, I imagine Ilia and Zech are already waiting for you."

"What?"

"You're supposed to meet Ilia and Zech. They should be waiting for you at the old oak tree outside of town. Go on, get going. We'll see you tonight.

Link nods, "I'll you tonight then," he says before exiting through the door.

Uli walks back in from the kitchen, watching her husband. "Are you sure we did the right thing Rusl," she asks. "Giving him the sword now."

"I don't know Uli," Rusl responds. "But the time was right. It was what we were asked to do."

Nearly a half hour later Link finds himself trotting up to the giant ancient oak tree on his chestnut colored horse, Epona. Link has known Epona since she was a foal, had helped deliver her in fact. Since then Link has had a direct hand in raising and training her. Link is, in fact the only person Epona will allow to ride her. After the wolfos attack last year the ranch owner Doran gave Epona to Link as a gift, declaring her with too much spirit and to proud to be used as a plough horse. Link gratefully accepted her, because, even though he can call Zech his best friend, Link knows Epona is his truest friend in the world, and on a pure instinctual level he knows she'll never leave his side, nor he hers.

At the tree Link finds Ilia and Zech waiting for him. Ilia is sitting underneath the tree itself, patiently waiting on her horses blanket roll. Zech on the other hand is lounging on one of the lowest hanging branches, lobbing a rock into the air and catching it back on the way down. "Well, about time you showed," Zech calls out, a roguish grin on his face. "Ilia and I were about ready to trade your gifts with each other."

"Zech, you know we weren't," Ilia says with fake exasperation. "Happy Birthday Link," she says warmly with an inviting smile. She steps up to and embraces him once he's down from Epona's back.

"Yeah buddy," Zech says, gripping the branch with his legs and hanging upside down. "Happy Birthday."

"Sorry for being late," Link says slightly sheepishly. "I was at Rusl's," Link's hand grips his new sword. "He gave me this."

Zech whistles loud and long at the sight of the sword, then releases his legs on the branch, flipping to the ground to land in a crouch. "Fancy," he says, examining the sword more closely. "Well, enough of that, time for the real gifts," he says with a mischievous grin.

Ilia rolls her eyes in amusement at Zech, then turns her attention back to Link. "Do you want to open our gifts now?"

"Of course," Link says with a smile.

"Me first," Zech says enthusiastically, pulling a bundle from the saddlebags of his horse.

Link takes the bundle and unfolds the cloth, revealing a set of beautifully crafted brown leather gauntlets. "Zech, did you make these?" Link asks, nearly stunned.

"Sure did," Zech answers with a wide grin. "My mom's taught me all she knows about working with leather, and my dad taught me about blacksmithing, so I combined the two. See, I've watched you training with Rusl and some of the other men. I've noticed that while they use shields, you usually don't."

Link nods, "A shield is awkward for the way I like to move and fight. The added sped and mobility I get from not using a shield means I don't usually need one."

"Now you can have the best of both worlds," Zech explains. "I forged the strongest steal I know how into narrow bars and worked them into those raised sections you see on the gauntlets. I've tested them, you now effectively have a shield on each arm, and they'll stop a sword easily."

"Amazing," Link says, pulling the gauntlets on and tightening them.

"Here," Zech says, handing Link a matching pair of fingerless leather gloves. "These go with the gauntlets. You'll have a perfect grip, plus your hands will be protected. And if you hit someone with those, they won't be getting up for awhile."

"Nice," Link says. "Rusl keeps pestering me about using a shield. Now I'll have a little surprise for him the next time we spar. Thanks Zech."

"You're welcome," Zech answers with a nonchalant wave. "Just don't hit me with those things," he jokes, grinning.

"Deal," Link says.

"Here Link," Ilia says, holding up a cloth wrapped bundle of her own. Link takes the bundle, and immediately notices the fineness of the cloth. Obviously whatever is inside must be special, to use such magnificent material to wrap it in. Link carefully and gently unfolds the cloth and inside finds an expertly carved ocarina. "Ilia," Link says in a near whisper.

"I even polished and water treated it," she says, the joy and enthusiasm clear in her voice at the sight of Link's stunned expression. "I know yours was smashed up when those bulls stampeded a few months ago."

Link nods, remembering the day only a several months gone by when a couple of bulls had somehow broken free of their pen and were charging through the village. Colin, Rusl's son had been in the bull's path. Link grabbed him just in time, but his ocarina had slipped from his tunic and fallen in the bull's way. There was only chips and splinters of wood left. While Link is grateful he had been there in time to save Colin, he was devastated at the loss of his precious ocarina, which Rusl had given him when he had been a very young boy. It is Rusl's philosophy that a swordsman should be more. An honest job and an art to take pride in, that would keep a swordsman from being nothing but a trained killer.

Now Link gazes reverently at his new treasure, his fingers trailing over the smooth finish of the surface. "Ilia, it's perfect. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she says, her face positively beaming. "I hope you'll play for us tonight at the Festival."

"Of course I will," Link says in return.

"Well, now that we're all feeling warm and fuzzy, how about we head back into town," Zech says with excitement, rubbing his hands together. "There's strangers at the inn."

"I heard Ilia's father mention that earlier," Link says, wrapping the ocarina again and placing it in one of his saddlebags. "Who are they?"

"Don't know," Zech says with a shrug. "There's two of them, a man and a woman. They rode in really late last night.

"And how would you know that Zech?" Ilia asks.

"Uh, never mind that," Zech answers quickly. "Let's get going."

After midday Link and his friends arrive back in Ordon to find preparations for the Festival that evening well under way. All throughout the village men, women and even the children move about with great fervor, forgoing their usual daily routine and chores to prepare for the Harvest Festival that very evening.

"Looks like everyone is here," Zech observes, idly watching from the back of his horse.

"Yes, and we should be helping," Ilia says, a hint of reproach evident in her voice.

"She's got a point," Link agrees. "Everyone's supposed to help.

"You know, you tow really know how to ruin a good mood," Zech answers with resignation. "Let's at least have a look at the strangers first."

"Alright," Link says. "Let's try the inn."

A few minutes ride through the village they arrive outside the largest building. They leave their horses inside the stables behind the inn, taking note of the two new horses there, a beautiful white and a large, powerfully built black warhorse. Leaving the stable they enter through the back into the kitchen where Ilia's mother Sarah is hard at work. "Took you three long enough to get back here," Sarah says, pausing in her work only long enough to give them an admonishing look.

"Are the strangers here?" Zech asks, the slightest bit of excitement returning to his voice.

"They are," Sarah replies, continuing with her work. "They're taking a meal at the moment." Then she glances at Link, "Actually, she does want to speak with you dear."

"Me?" Link says in surprise.

"All three of you actually, but they said to send Link along first when you showed. They're in the private dining room."

Link nods and exits into the main room. But instead of continuing in he immediately turns right into a short, narrow hallway. He knocks twice on the closed wooden door, opening it to find two people inside the room seated at a rectangular table. The man seated closest to the door is massive, seemingly made of pure muscle. His eyes lock onto Link the instant he appears in the door. Something in the back of Link's mind warns him of the man, the danger there. Something about the way the man is coiling, tensing. Link a wolf waiting to spring. But the woman, she is something else entirely. Link has always considered Ilia a beauty, but this woman is beyond that, a dangerous kind of beautiful. Her hair is the color of sliver, her eyes a strange mix of violet and crimson. "You must be Link," she says with a genuine smile upon her face. "Please, join us," she motions to an empty chair. "My name is Impa, and this is Toman."

"Uh, nice to meet you," Link says, cautiously eyeing the two. "So why am I here?"

"We wanted to speak with you," Impa explains. "We want to speak with all the people of Ordon."

"And why would you want that?" Link asks.

"On the order of the King of Hyrule," Impa says, studying Link. "The King wishes to know more of his people, especially those who reside in the border lands, like Ordon. Your village and Hylia have not had official contact in a great while. The King wishes to change this."

"And you're supposed to speak with everyone in the village?"

"More or less," Impa replies. "As I said, the King wishes to know more of his people. That requires us to be thorough."

"Right. So what do you want to know from me?" Link says. But before he can receive and answer white light explodes in his eyes. His vision returns to him slowly, and when it does everything is tinted white. "What are you doing to me?" he notices her hand pointing towards him.

"We just want to talk. To ask you some questions," Impa says in a friendly voice.

But strange images flash through Link's mind. Battles he's never fought, wars he's never waged, and loves he's never lost. All this flashes through his mind in short moments. "What's…happening?" he growls, his vision again returning to the room.

"He's resisting," Toman says, his voice tense.

With a grunt Link instinctually lashes out. The white light around him breaks, and he watches as the woman Impa cries out and falls back to the floor in her chair. Still reeling Link storms out of the room, running past his questioning friends and quickly from the inn. He doesn't even bother to collect Epona on his way, running outside the village.

Back inside the room Toman helps Impa to her feet. "Are you alright?" he asks.

"I am well," Impa answers, sitting once again in her chair.

"You were caught unawares," Toman states matter of factly.

"Perhaps," Impa says in the same tone. "He has power though. Much power."

"You think he may be the One?" Toman asks, his eyes searching hers.

"Maybe," Impa replies, though hesitantly. "But even if he isn't, it's obvious he's Chosen."

Night has fallen and it has been hours since Link ran from The Steel Ox. He is now a few miles outside of town, in a small shrine, a sanctuary devoted to the Goddesses. Inside Link kneels before the statue of Farore, bowing his head with his eyes closed. His mind is in turmoil. The images he witnessed in his mind, they remind him of the dreams he often gets. And what that woman was doing to him, it has his mind racing. A chill wind breezes through the open windows of the sanctuary. Link's head perks up slightly, he almost believes he can hear his name in the wind. As Link looks up a brilliant emerald light shimmers into existence, taking the shape of a beautiful young woman. Her flowing green gown is the same color as her radiant hair. "Hello my child," she greets Link, her voice at once melodious and filled with warmth.

"Who…who are you?" Link asks, rising to his feet.

"I've watched you all your life Link," she says, her smile like the light of a sun.

"Farore," Link whispers, dropping back to his knees.

"Link," she says, stepping forward, and Link is surprised when she quite solidly grips his shoulders, lifting him to his feet. "You never have need to kneel before me, or my sisters."

"But you are the Goddess Farore," Link protests.

"And you are special," Farore answers. "Your destiny, it is different from that of most mortals." She looks at him and Link feels it the same way a mother looks lovingly at her child. "Oh my child. Already you have experienced some hardships, and displayed more of that which I hold dear than I could have ever hoped or asked. Courage. And you must show more of it before your task is done."

"I…know," Link says.

"You must understand, I cannot tell you much Link, it is forbidden. Even now what I do may be considered interfering. Still, I must say this. You must master that sword at your side, along with the other two like it. 'Master the three to master the one.' When the time is right, you will understand everything. She glances out of a window into the darkness. "I must go now. As must you," she glows briefly, before her light fades away.

With a sigh Link begins his walk back to the village.

"I would not have believed it had I not seen the tests with my own eyes," Toman says as he and Impa walk through the torch lit streets of Ordon.

"I know my friend," Impa says in reply. "I performed the tests and even I can hardly believe it. Three of them in a little out of the way border village."

"Do you mean to have all three?" Toman asks.

"If I can."

As Impa says this they reach the village square, where the Harvest Festival is already in full swing. A young girl runs up to them, "Lady Impa. Would you tell us a story?"

Impa crouches in front of the girl, favoring her with a warm smile. "A story child?"

"You're from far away," the girl explains enthusiastically. "You must have seen wondrous things. You must know fantastic stories."

"Hmmm, I may at that," Impa replies. "How about a story of a beautiful princess?"

The girl's face lights up, "Oh yes, please."

"Well then," Impa says, taking the girl's hand and leads her to the small bonfire where the children are gathered. "Listen children, for this is a very special tale. This is the story of a very beautiful and amazing princess. This, is the Legend of Zelda."

The children gasp in delight, their attention completely focused on Impa. "Many years ago, the great and noble King of Hyrule waged a terrible war on an evil sorcerer. The war was waged for years, but when it was over the King stood triumphant. He returned home to the grand city of Hylia, where is magnificent castle stands. There, shortly after his return he met the woman who would become his Queen. They quickly fell in love, and within a year were married. Many months after that, the Princess Zelda was born. She was a wonder and a true treasure of her people. As she grew older, she proved herself a prodigy. She was many things, a mage and a scholar, a princess and a warrior. Her beauty was that of a Goddess and her kindness that of a saint. She was much loved."

"But then, in her sixteenth year, Zelda fell ill and grew weak quickly. The finest physicians and the greatest of mages from across the lands attended the princess. None could help her, none could find a cure. And then, after languishing with the sickness for a year, she fell asleep and would not wake. A great and powerful wizard, a man of great respect and deeds came, and he declared it no ordinary sleep. An Eternal Slumber he called it, the princess doomed forever to sleep, until the day when the Legendary Hero appears, for only his power can break the terrible enchanment."

"What happened next?" the same eager girl asks.

"Nothing child," Impa replies. "Nothing else. The Princess Zelda remains in slumber even now. She waits, as does all of Hyrule for the day when the Legendary Hero will rise."

"Why do they wait?" another child asks.

"Partly because they wait for him to revive the princess," Impa explains. "And partly because the beasts and creatures of the Ancient Enemy walk the lands once more."

"Will they come here?" a third child asks.

"I do not know child. Here you live on the southernmost border of Hyrule. Between you lies the great Forest of Faron, what you call the Old Forest. It is an enchanted wood that no creature of the taint would dare willing enter, for it would surely mean its death."

But a moment later a terrible roar echoes out from the darkness surrounding the village. Impa's eyes dart to Toman, who nods. "I feel it too," he says.

"I was wrong," she says quietly, standing. "Good people of Ordon," she calls out loudly now, her voice ringing in the silence following the beastly roar. "I thought this village too far south. I thought the power of the forest would protect you from the beasts of the Enemy. I was wrong. They are out there. Now is the time for your warriors. Now is the time for the courage of Farore to shine forth. We will aid you however we can. We fight with you. Prepare yourselves." Impa and Toman stalk off quickly, rounding a corner onto a deserted street. "Alright," Impa says after they've gone a little ways further. She claps her hands together in a strange sign, and with the murmur of an ancient word her clothing blurs, her beautiful gown shifting into a dark blue form fitting bodysuit with patches of smooth black, almost like armor, covering vital points of her body.

Toman repeats her actions, but instead of his clothing changing, great silver armor blurs into existence over his serviceable clothes. "Ready," he says, donning his war helmet over his long black hair.

"Very well," Impa replies, pulling the hood of her bodysuit low over her head and slipping a black mask over the lower half of her face. "Do what you can. Save whoever you can. But remember, we must protect the three we found at all costs."

With a wonder that still fascinates him to this day, Toman watches as Impa steps from the torch light into the shadows of a house. She seemingly melds with the darkness, disappearing. Through their bond he can feel her presence vanish from his side and reappear on the other side of the village only a moment later. With an amused shake of his head he'd never let Impa see, Toman runs off quickly back to the village square.

Meanwhile, across town Impa reappears in the shadows on the roof of a house. Looking over the edge she spots the beast that had produced the unearthly roar earlier. The creature easily stands eight feet tall, covered in muscle. It's skin is the color of night, white tribal symbols tattooed all over it's body. It's face is a snarling visage, that of a giant boar, with large tusks jutting from it's mouth.

"Moblin," she says, drawing the creature's attention. "You were careless. You'll find this village not so easily taken."

When the moblin responds, its voice is guttural and inhuman, but its words can still be understood. "It matters little shadow woman," it replies, eyeing the crimson eye emblazoned on her chest. "This village will be razed, its people killed or taken as slaves."

"I think not," Impa says, and the air around her hands blurs, with thin blades appearing from nothingness from between each of her fingers. She leaps high into the air, aiming for the rooftop across the street. In midair she twists, flinging he blades from her hands. The moblin manages to block most of them with the crude circular shield strapped to its left arm. But there are so many a few manage to sneak through, embedding themselves in its dark flesh. It shrugs off the pain with a simple grunt, the blades having found no vital area.

"Fine," Impa growls. "New game." Her hands blur again, but instead of more blades small black orbs appear between each finger. Her arm whips around, the orbs sailing at the beast. The orbs strike and explode in flashes of fire. When the smoke clears, the moblin is badly burned and staggering. It immediately looks for Impa, but is already too late. She is hurtling at the giant beast, now wielding a long curved sword in her hands. The sword strikes true, the blade piercing the moblin between its eyes. It dies immediately, it's body bursting into dark flames that consume it entirely.

The flames fade away into nothingness, leaving only its black blood on Impa's sword. The blood is boiling away from being in contact with the enchanted weapon. Once it is fully clean she banishes it back from where she summoned it, and, in the distance she hears more roars echo out of the darkness. The attack has begun.