Authors note: This is just kind of a test to see if this story will have potential. I just had a theory and wanted to see where it would go. Please please please review and let me know what you think!
A gust of wind caught the warriors silver hair and whipped it around her face as she stood above the blood stained field. Her hair, drenched with sweat, stuck to her hard face as she examined the macabre. Crimson seeped through her sapphire and pale uniform, but wounds did not hinder the Woman of Stone. She looked over the field littered with bodies of all races. Even small Kokiri children here and there, who must have been caught in the battle on supply runs. The scene was gut wrenching, but Impa had seen it all before. This was not her first battle, and it was far from the last war.
She was the only woman standing amongst the dead. The remaining of the races had fled before the final horn blew, signalling that the King had claimed his throne.. That the Triforce had been sealed under his protection. The war had been fought. The war had been won. The King now promised peace between the people of the Towns, Forest, the Red Earth, the Desert and the Shadows. The Sheikah fought valiantly, even as the bodies cloaked in blue and silver decorate the field, Impa felt pride in her people who refused to flea until their race was the last standing on the battle field.. even if only one remained.
Impa passed the body's, recognizing faces as she made her way for the village below the mountains. She would meet those who had taken refuge in the caverns, those too young, or too weak for battle. Together they would lay to rest the fallen warriors with pride, and bury them with honor in the catacombs of the Shadow Temple.
Entering the vast caverns, the torches flickered dimly over the corpses of the patrol guards, fallen at their posts. She Sheikah woman's face hardened even more; the Caverns had been compromised. Impa bounded through the halls, hurdling bodies that lay in her path. The faces looking up at her were stricken with fear, expressions forever unchanging.. Faces she recognized. Impa's blood boiled and her heart pumped faster as she drew nearer to her chambers. She stopped to see the door busted half open. She could not move, she could not speak.. Her thoughts consumed her and taunted her with images of the scene she might find beyond the mangled door.
The truth within the chamber brought her to her knees beside the body of the seventeen year old blond Sheikah. A dagger was plunged deep into his chest, somewhere between his rib-cage. Blood ran over his chapped lips, down his neck and into a puddle on the stone floor below his broad shoulders. His forearms were slashed from blocking a sword without armor.
He was not prepared for a fight..
When he coughed, Impa moved a shaky hand and caressed the boys flushed cheek. "My boy.." She stammered, tears welling in her ruby eyes. "My child, what have they done?"
The boy drew and unsteady breath, opening his blood shot eyes just enough to see her leaning over him in tears. "Sheikah.. we do not cry Mother. You taught me that." He spoke, his words hardly audible as blood threatened to choke him. He swallowed and blinked. "We bleed, but we do not cry. Drops of blood, the blood of our fallen enemies will replace our tears, and life will be restored."
He weakly nodded to Impa's pouch. She knew just what he meant as she acquired an empty bottle. He'd spoken the words of a true Sheikah. "Sheik-"
With a bloody hand he gripped his mothers arm, and with the last of his strength and his final breaths he spoke his plea: "I missed my chance to protect the Royal Family. If a time ever comes when you need me, use my blood as paint.. Paint the symbol of our people and I will answer. Quickly, before it is too late." Impa hurriedly brought the mouth of the bottle below his neck, allowing a few drops to fall inside. She corked the bottle and set it beside her, watching as her son perished before her. "Until then, I will serve the Goddesses with pride. Farewell.. Mother."
His arm fell limp, and his eyelids dropped. As his chest drew still, the boy laid to rest in the puddle of red. Impa could hardly make out his face through the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. The notorious Stone Faced Sheikah was stricken with grief.
With hands and knees soaked in her sons blood, the Sheikah warrior stayed at her sons side through the night. She waited for any survivors to come to her the next morning. To see that she and her son had made it.. to receive news from the war front. But no one came. Impa was alone. She was the last of the Sheikah race; a race that had been compromised and slaughtered. Impa, the only Sheikah who survived the Hyrulean War.