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Disclaimer: I do not own The Legend of Zelda, Link, or any other facete of Nintendo.

The Legend of Zelda Turbo

Prologue

To some, legends are just fairy tales, passed on from generation to generation. Stories told to children to keep them in line. To others, they are a staple. The hold their very existence in the balance, determining life form death. I come from a group of parents in the former setting. My mother always told me when I was young that if I didn't be good, or do what she wanted, the monsters would get me. I never believed her, but did what she wanted just to amuse her. Amusing either of my parents was a very easy thing to accomplish. With my father working for sixteen hours daily to keep his company running, he was stark tired when he did come home, so as long as I said "Hi, dad. How was your day?" he was happy. My mother was always away with her friends, so as long as I could entertain myself at home, she was happy. I have to admit. I was one of the lucky ones. I'm one of the only few kids I knew, who had to try to piss my parents off. And that rarely happened.

Well, I was lucky until one day. A day that has been etched into my mind since it happened. They had said that they were going on a vacation, just the two of them, and that I would have more fun at home, then doing 'boring adult stuff'. They saved my life, is what they did.

When they didn't return when they were scheduled to, I began to get worried. I started to look everywhere for them. Then, I finally resorted to the one thing that I had so loathed before, the news.

Upon turning of the television, there it was, top story. "Cruise vessel destroyed in terrorist attack. No survivors." I dropped the remote at the name of the ship. It was the same one my parents were on. All they were doing was having fun. And they were senselessly murdered.

My father had willed his company to me, without my knowledge. Next morning, there was three men at the door to 'take care of me'. I told them I was old enough to do it myself. Sixteen, and so independent. Thankfully, there was enough money in my parents account to tide me over until at least I was eighteen, to at which point, I could fully take over my father's business.

And that was going to be what my life would've been like. I say 'was going' because thanks to a fortunate turn of events, my entire life got flip-turned upside down. All for the better, I assure you.

I was out for one of my daily runs in Central Park. I live in Manhattan real close to Central Park. I was out running in Central Park when I came across a path I haven't taken before. Behing the adventurous sort, I decided to follow it, just to see where it went. Glad I did. As I followed the path deeper and deeper, until it finally ended. At this point, the trees had taken on an...odd effect. The leaves were more green then the brown that is typical of fall. The single path opened up into a clearing with a treestump dead center. And lodged deep in that treestump was a rusted-over sword handle. It entrigued me. I loved the old, anything that was more then two hundred years old fancinated me. This sword, was no different. I settled on that I had to have. Even if I had to rip that stump up, I would have that sword.

So before resorting to more brutish means, I first attempted to pull it out. The shear ease it came out was the most surprising thing of all. Before I even touched it, the sword launched out of it's home, flipped twice in the air, then landed on the ground. Filled with awe, I moved over and touched it. Just one touch. Just as my finger came in contact with the sword, I felt my feet leave the ground. I was free-floating in place, all my cares seemed to melt away. Well, that was until that really painful thud.