Chapter 1: The Birth of a Sacred Child
Disclaimer: Don't own TLOZ only the oc.
The skies cried that day in Hryule. Rain pelted from the heavens as if the very goddesses themselves were weeping. In fact, as the king thought back, there had been too many gloomy days as of late. Ganondorf—the wicked man from the west—was closing in on the golden kingdom, squeezing the king's heart with an iron fist. His mercenaries had already taken control of much of the kingdom. Faron was gone, at any rate.
It wouldn't be much longer before the entire land was swallowed up by his darkness and greed. His family and he included . . . The world seemed hopeless and black. He would not be surprised if even the goddesses had forsaken them, and these rainy days were their tangible sorrow at the crumbling of the golden kingdom.
The beating of the rain on the stony courtyard outside was wearing on him. The king swept a piece of burnt honey hair from his face and stood to latch the window shut. As he reached out into the open to shut the panes, a very familiar sound reached his ears.
Familiar only because as a father, he had sat wearily next to that sound many a night, gently hushing its maker back to sleep. It was the bawling of an infant. He stretched his body further out the window, the rain soaking into his hair and court finery. Was it perhaps one of the servant's children? But no . . . Why would such a child be left alone in the courtyard? He left his chambers, two of his attendants quietly flanking him as he made his way down the dim stone corridors. His footsteps echoed against the marble floor and walls of the grand hall as he hurried forward.
"Open the doors!" He ordered the guards.
The man was blasted with a chilling gust of wind as the elements rushed inside, soaking the castle floor and himself to the bone. He ventured further outside, down the steps at a quick pace, and then stopped—. A small basket lay there, soaked through with rain and quickly deteriorating to the storm. As he approached, peeling back the cloth that filled the basket, he breathed in harshly. Whimpering in the cold, underneath the thin cloth was a baby girl, pale and shuddering from the cold. He quickly knelt, lifting the girl to his chest before turning and rushing back into the warmth of the castle, shouting at the guards to shut the doors.
"Your Majesty?" One of his attendants asked in wonder, gazing at the infant clutched to the king's chest with wide eyes.
The baby girl stared back with violet eyes. The king ignored the man, walking past the small contingent of servants and soldiers that had gathered in the hall at the commotion.
"Fetch my wife, please." He ordered to no one in particular. "Tell her she'll find me in the nursery." The usual two attendants tailed him as he made his way to the second-floor nursery that still belonged to his three-year old toddling daughter. When he arrived, he instructed the two men to wait outside the door.
He procured a blanket, wrapping it around the baby, tossing her own soiled cloth down on the floor with a wet squelch. He held her in his arms, wondering at the intelligent eyes that gazed evenly back at him in bewilderment. A knock on the door caused him to turn in expectation.
"Enter." He called. The queen—soft blonde hair tied back behind her hair—entered, shutting the door quietly behind her.
"Harold, darling, what is this all about? Zelda had a fit when the servants called me away—." Her azure eyes had fallen on the gurgling infant wrapped in blankets in his arms. Her eyes trailed back up to his. "What—?" She asked, stepping forward and placing a hand on the girl's brow. "Whose is she?" "I don't know." He murmured, gazing downwards at her.
"I was in my study when I hear her crying. She was in the courtyard, left on the steps. I—I couldn't leave her, surely—." His wife gripped his arm reassuringly.
"You did right, Harold." She called an attendant in the room to clean up the mess on the floor as the king and her murmured softly to each other about what to do with this girl.
The attendant who had entered to remove the sodden cloth looked up at them, clearing his throat uncertainly. "Um, Majesties?" Both of their eyes flicked to the servant expectantly. He held up an equally sodden piece of parchment out to them.
"This . . . it was wrapped up in the cloth, Excellency. Harold offered the baby to his wife as he reached out for the parchment. The ink was stained into the parchment and ran in places, but for the most part it was legible.
Please understand that I did not leave my child here for naught and without a purpose. I leave her in your hands because I trust that you will see her raised well . . . Ensure that the Hero meets this child when the time arises . . . Already I feel the land seeping with poison. The hero will be named soon. Instruct my child in the ways of the sacred weapons.
"We have to keep her." Harold looked up in surprise at his queen. She was gazing at the girl with compassion in her eyes. The king did not answer, though he agreed with all his heart.
"What to call her, though." He murmured softly. But then the answer came to him. "Diana." He whispered, stroking the russet hair of the little girl. "Because I found you in the night rain . . . I was so sure that the storm was a bad omen, and that it would bring us all misfortune." He smiled warmly. "But it brought us you, little one."
Years passed. The kingdom's fate looked dire. Ganondorf's forces pressed ever closer, swarming the desert and western villages. Yet those thoughts were pushed to the back of the king's mind as their adopted child grew. She was past toddling now . . . at the tender age of four. And so intelligent for her age. Today was a special day for the royal family. The king and queen had decided that it would be best for the girls to keep them apart until Diana was at an age where she would be able to interact with her older sister on her own. As parents, they were both wary of potential jealousy from Zelda if she was ignored in favor of her adopted baby sister.
So Harold and his wife had ensured that at least one of the girls had one of their parent's attentions at any given time. It was only fair. But today was the day when the girls would meet at last. They both knew well of the other's existence, and both were giddy with excitement that morning as they prepared to meet the other. They were presented to each other in the throne room, both of them obviously nervous as they stared at each other from behind their mother and father.
"Zelda, darling," Harold murmured, nudging the little girl out from behind his leg.
"This is Diana. I know you've been curious about her." He said with a smile.
Diana, who was hiding behind his wife's skirts, poked her head out; her violet eyes wide in wonderment. The sisters approached each other nervously, peering at each other as if they were two wily squirrels, ready to dart away at any moment.
"It's—it's a pleasure to meet you, Zelda." Diana squeezed her eyes shut tight, thrusting her hand out to Zelda.
Zelda smiled back, seemingly amused by the younger girl's reaction to her as she shook the tiny hand, shaking it. "Hello."
The king and queen smiled as they watched the girls spending their first few moments together. Harold pulled his wife close, smiling as she leaned her head on his shoulder.
"Your Majesty!" A soldier burst through the door, heaving for air and with a sweaty sheen on his face.
The little girls shrank back against the queen in fright as Harold spoke. "Go ahead."
"Your Excellency, the castle is under siege! " He blundered.
The king squeezed his eyes shut in despair. "Ahnna, take the girls through the stone passageway and into the forest." He exited the room after his attendants, casting one final glance back at his wide-eyed family, not quite sure if this was the last time he would see them.
"Girls, follow me!" Ahnna took either of their hands and ran out of the study, heading to the ground floor of the castle.
Before long they came to an empty hallway where the queen rushed forward, kneeling before the stone wall as she whispered to herself, touching a protruding stone with shaking fingers. She pulled her daughters to her, ushering them inside the small, dark tunnel.
"Darlings, you have to go!" She pushed them inside.
"But daddy said—." Zelda whimpered, clutching at her mother's sleeves. Diana only stared at the heartbreaking scene unfolding before her with wide, fearful eyes.
"Daddy needs me right now, angel. Take your sister, and don't stop running." She pushed them further inside the hole. "Go now!" The two small girls followed the stone tunnel until it let them out at the back of the castle, into a dense wooded area. They ran for what felt like hours, but what couldn't have been more than a few minutes. There were shouts and torchlights all around them.
"Halt there!" A gruff voice called out from the bushes as a band of men surrounded the girls. "Well, well, what have we here?" He sneered. "Two little Hylian maidens? What are you doing roaming the woods at this hour?" He stepped closer, hand going to a dagger on his belt. "We must be careful, mustn't we?" The other men chortled as he approached them. "We could fall into a nasty skultula's nest and be eaten up, now couldn't we?" Zelda stepped in front of Diana, shielding the girl from the man with a fierce, determined expression on her young face.
The men simply laughed at her show of bravery. "Ay, I think this one wants to fight me," He mocked, waving the dagger at Zelda. "She should know I—Goddesses above!" He exclaimed; jumping back and shouting in surprise, shielding his eyes.
Zelda whirled around as well, squealing in fright right along with him at what she saw. Diana was glowing with a fierce golden light, washing the woods and Ganondorf's men with a bright, ethereal glow. Zelda's chest heaved as she fell to the ground. There's no way she can be a wielder of the Golden Power. She thought, frightened. The light grew in intensity to an unbearable brightness. Zelda squeezed her eyes shut, praying to the goddesses that she and her sister would live to see another day.
When at last the light died down, Ganondorf's men were left in the shadowy wood by themselves, the girls nowhere to be seen.
"You let them escape!" One of the men in the ring shouted angrily, drawing his sword on the leader.
"Shut it!" The man who had confronted the girls roared back, brandishing his own weapon at him with cruel intent.
"We have to get back to Lord Ganondorf and report this, don't you see?" They all stared at him dumbly.
"Idiots!" He sneered. "Our worst fears are upon us! The Hero has risen!" He fixed them all with a steely gaze. "And we just let her escape from right under our noses!" Link looked up curiously from where he had been mindlessly drawing in the dirt. A sharp yip had pulled his mind out of the shadows where it had been lurking. He rose, brushing himself off as he followed the sharp yipping.
Within minutes he rounded the corner that lead to Faron Springs. He knew he wasn't supposed to venture this far into the woods. The adults in the village always told him to go no further than Ordon Spring, but he had to know where that wining sound was coming form.
Sitting there before the sacred spring was a small ball of fur. It looked up as he approached, ears pricked and head cocked sideways in confusion. His breath caught in his throat as recognized the scrap of fur for what it was. A young wolf pup—not old enough yet to even be away from its mother—with startlingly white fur and emerald green eyes. It yipped at him as he kneeled beside it, licking his hand as it wined. He stroked its soft white fur, wondering at a strange symbol on its brow—a blue cross, flanked by a crescent moon.
He stroked its ears, finding a thin-banded necklace bearing a red fang hanging loosely from around its neck.
"What's this?" He whispered to himself, stroking the fang with his thumb. "Do you have an owner, little guy? Is that who put this on you?" The white pup howled softly, nudging his hand away. There was something unsettling about that howl. It sounded almost . . . sad.
"Don't worry." He cooed to the little wolf. "You'll be alright. I'll bring you to a safer place." The wolf pup let loose with another heartbreakingly unhappy yowl as he held it to his chest, heading home.