The Legend of Zelda: The Gates of Time
By Dickie
Disclaimer: I do not make any claims to the ownership of the Zelda game or any of its characters.
The rain poured down into the filthy alleyways as the young boy dressed in a green hooded jumper tore through them, past rancid dumpsters and musty boxes. Something was hunting him, and he wasn't sure why. He sped down one alley, then into another and then another. He had been chased by the Hylian Patrol before, but he lost them easily in the multitude of twists and turns. But this horrid creature was still on his tail. After rounding one corner he paused, in a bid to catch his breath, he slumped down against the wall, his hands on his knees as his breath pounded in and out of his chest, eyes closing. He barely escaped having his head cleaved clean off by a rusted steel blade. He scrambled forward as the hideous armoured skeleton retrieved its weapon stuck into the brick wall.
The world of Hyrule has long changed since its creation by the three goddesses Din, Farore and Nayru. Technology has advanced and the old principles of the past have become long forgotten.
As he made off once more, the strange symbol that shown up on his hand shone once more. He already noticed that someone or something was stalking him, as he noticed the same shrouded figure several times wherever he went. He thought nothing of him as the cloaked figure appeared to be harmless. And if he did prove to be hostile, he could always use the alleyways to his advantage. Everything was more or less fine until for some strange reason, the birthmark on his right hand suddenly started to burn with pain and a bizzare image appeared on the back of his right hand for mere moments. A pyramid of three triangles, which seemed reason enough for the skeleton creature to chase after him. But now wasn't the time for rationality and logic. His entire mindset was flicked onto survival.
Forgotten have become the legends of the Goddesses. Forgotten have become the Temples. And forgotten has become the Triforce.
He rounded one alley and found that he was trapped, between an insurmountable brick wall adorned with neon twisted spray can letters and a rotting collection of bones armed with a wicked sword. He spun round, and saw straight into the hollow pits of its eyes, where a dull unearthly glow emanated. And for the first time he felt fear in his short life as he backed up against the brick barrier. Time slowed down as he saw the creature raise its warped black and rusted blade above its head, ready to slam down with terrific force and end his life right there and then. As the blade carved through the air, the young boys arm shot up, an natural reflex action of defense from his behalf.
But due to a bizarre twist of fate, the events that was set to have happened centuries before are now set to in this newer age of forgotten magic and ever increasing technology.
Light flashed as the strange markings on the back of his hand connected with the ugly weapon, thrown from the skeleton's grip behind him and sinking into the wet concrete. It slowly turned its bony form around and found that it was confronted with a number of boys, about the same age as the one it had been pursuing, with its sword standing just in front of the leader. Stepping past it, he raised his weapon, the others following suit.
"You're in Bombers territory mate."
And they opened fire in a brilliant hail of coloured shots, ripping away at the rotting bones. The boy who had been chased dived out of the line of fire at the last moment and took cover. It wasn't long before all that remained was the rusted black armour it wore, before they burst into green flames and disintergrated.
The beginings of another legend...