I.

I grunt as I'm thrown off balance by the blow, staggering on my right foot. My adversary follows up with a quick elbow to my exposed back, sending me crashing to the ground. I land on the earth, the wind knocked out of me, but instinctively roll out of the way. The whooshing sound of the enemy's blade coursing through the air and embedding itself where my head just was makes me let out a hiss of breath between my teeth. Thank the goddesses I wasn't caught up in that! I scramble to my feet sloppily yet swiftly, wasting as little time as possible as I ready my sword in one smooth, controlled motion. The other's blade makes a rapid jab to my stomach, but I quickly deflect it with my own sword, with much difficulty. The enemy's blade is broader, making for less speed but more power behind each thrust. I can evade his attacks, but if I'm hit, I'm not sure how well off I'd be.

I swing my arming sword in a graceful arc above the adversary's head, making him instinctively glance up whilst I transfer my weight to my right foot. As he turns to swing his sword once more, pivoting on his foot, I swing my left leg upwards and smash my foot into his chest, sending him backwards a few paces. He stumbles but quickly rights himself before I can land another blow. He blocks my sword with his own, and I curse under my breath as his overwhelming power quickly breaks the stalemate and the long, deadly blade comes crashing down upon me.

Utilizing the strength in my legs, I push up off the ground and flip backwards, successfully evading the attack. Fancy, true, but it keeps my on my feet. I take a great leap forward as my adversary tries to recover from the initial shock of slicing through air and bring my sword down upon his helmet. I know it can't cut through it, obviously, but I bet he has a nasty headache now. The clang of metal on metal sounds painfully in my sensitive ears, and I must resist the urge to rub them as I duck out of the way of another hasty blow.

The enemy's sword comes at my horizontally now, its blade impossibly fast. I raise my right arm on instinct, as if I have a shield there. I realize my mistake at the last second as I drop down under the blow. I let out a curse between my clenched teeth. I must remember that I don't have my shield with me… It could very well be my downfall.

I straighten, and the enemy stops attacking for a moment, meeting my eyes. His own are a cold gray, chips of ice that seem to cut into me. He wears the standard knight's helmet, but on the side is the insignia of a raven, displaying his high rank. Brown hair is plastered to the side of his face with sweat, but he still looks ready for more battle. We circle around each other for a moment, giving both a little rest. I search for weaknesses in his armor, trying to find a chink in which I can insert my sword. He is almost clad head to heel in the silver metal, gleaming brightly where I haven't struck it. He will be slower than most with that must protection, but he'll be hard to get past due to his defenses. I bite my lip as I ready my sword once more, and launch back into battle.

The adversary growls as I slash diagonally from the right and arcing upwards to the left. I almost wedge my sword within a small exposed area of his armpit, but he moves out of the way surprisingly fast for one with such armor. I dodge another well-timed blow from the other, leaping out of the way with cat-like fluidity. Now's my chance. His back is slightly turned, his right side exposed. Time seems to slow down as I thrust my sword forwards once more, finding the chink and crashing through it, breaking the enemy's skin and spilling the first blood. The deep red liquid viscously trails down the silver armor of the other, dropping to the ground. The enemy freezes for a moment before regaining his wits, turning upon me, enraged. I had gotten his sword arm. He draws a short dagger from his utility belt, gripping it tightly in his left hand. His knuckles turn white as his brows knit together in anxiety. A vein pulses just above his left temple, a fault in his skin.

He takes a step forward, his eyes now shadowed with pain. He swings his left arm upwards and close to me, now fighting me at close quarters. The dagger passes millimeters from my face as I jerk back reflexively. I sheathe my sword as the other does the same. I draw my own dagger from a pouch hooked onto my belt. The small blade is slightly dull, not as sharp as I would want it, but it will suffice. The man growls and swings the small knife once more at me, but my right hand flies up and grasps his wrist, stopping the blade from piercing any exposed parts of me not covered by chain mail. Even so, the dagger could also puncture the little loops and scatter them if he were to break them.

Although he has a small blade, when he wielded the larger sword he displayed his massive amounts of strength, and without his sword's weight to hamper him he'll be slightly faster, therefore deadlier. I narrow my eyes as he slashes the blade across my chest once more, missing again by just a breath. He follows up with his left fist flying at my face. I can't move to dodge, it's coming to quickly. I bring up my blade, pivoting on my right foot, hoping to cut his skin, but he shoves it away and his fist comes in contact with my left cheek.

Pain explodes in my face, and I flinch away from it, twisting my ankle as I struggle to stay upright. My cheek makes a sickening cracking noise, resounding through the area. The left side of my face throbs for a moment before going numb. Adrenaline still pulsating through my limbs, I watch as the enemy raises the dagger above his head, about to deal with the killing blow. As he does so, his eyes trail to the shine of the blade above his head, making him tilt his chin upwards. I see where his neck is now exposed, if only for a split second. I dash in, recovering quickly, before holding the knife against his Adam's apple. I knock the small knife out of his hand during the same moment, and he gulps audibly, the cold steel pressed against his skin. A small white line appears where the blade is held in contact with the other's neck, almost forming a cut.

"Just…who are you?" he speaks his first words, his voice coming out rough. His features are all etched in surprise, but his gray eyes show no evil. I slowly withdraw my blade, cautiously taking a few steps back, out of his sword's reach should he draw it. He stands defenseless, making no move for his weapons.

I narrow my eyes, content to stay silent, as I have for the most part during my journey. I turn away from him, still wary if he is to make any sort of movement. I pick up the dull maroon cloak that I had dropped earlier and hoist it over my shoulders, drawing the hood up over my green hat. Now that I'm out of the battle, I can finally focus on my surroundings. Trees tower over me, painting strange moonlight patterns on my thick cloak. Underbrush surrounds us, rustling in the wind.

"Why fight me if not kill me?" the man continues, watching my every movement. I can feel his eyes boring into my back. I turn and meet his gaze evenly before shifting so he's behind me. I hear him take a clanky step and immediately jump forward, whirling around, on the defensive. He stays in the clearing, a brow raised. "I'm not going to hurt you." Thinking for a moment, he continues, "Besides, you are a worthy foe, and I know what will become of me if I try."

I shake my head and continue hunting around for my shield. I'm not sure where I dropped it earlier, or even how I dropped it. I usually keep it strapped to my back for good measure, along with my arming sword's sheathe. I find it quickly in the shadows of a tree, and barely glimpse the extravagant colors and crest upon it before strapping it securely to my back, lifting up the cloak from the back. The shield is a reassuring weight, yet digs into the small of my back. I readjust it, keeping the man in my peripherals. A bitter laugh sounds from my once-foe. I tilt my head in a questioning gesture, my eyes catching in the moonbeams piercing through the leaves of the trees.

"Are you going to speak?" the man says, sitting down with a grunt, his back against a tree. His face is pale in the silver glow, paler than it should be. I frown as my eyes trace to the wound underneath his left shoulder. It's still spouting blood freely, splattering on the soil and tainting the air with its metallic scent. How could I have no noticed before?

Like a nervous animal, I dig through my pouch feverishly before pulling out a bottle filled with red liquid. I stoop over and roll it gently to the man, who stops it with his foot and picks it up, examining the contents. The glass catches in the moonlight, blinding me. I narrow my eyes against the glow as the man asks another question, but I ignore him. After a moment of hesitation, the man uncorks the bottle and raises it to his lips, drinking somewhat tentatively. His face twists into a scowl of disgust, and he puts it down after one gulp. His disgust quickly turns to surprise as the blood from his wound stops flowing, the wound closing up on its own. The skin seals itself together, soft like a newborn babe's. The only remnant of the injury is the dried blood upon his armor, and the small droplets staining the earth a disgusting black.

"What…" the man breathes out slowly, his voice quickly fading. I offer him a bitter smile before turning on my heel and rushing away, not wanting to interact with the man. I push past a low hanging branch, letting it fall away behind me as I stride deeper into the woods. My cloak miraculously doesn't get caught on any of the underbrush, otherwise my leave would be further delayed. I want to get as far from the man as possible. Traveling alone can do that to a person.

I continue through the brush, contemplating my next move. I skim over the dried leaves, creating faint rustles. Trees flash by, a blur of silver and shadows clashing with each other. Wind slips past my face, sending my blond hair about it. I reach up a hand to push the bangs away, admiring the leather vambrace upon it from the corner of my eye. Placing my hand against the rough bark of a large tree, I stop for a moment, glancing over my shoulder. The man appears to be in the clearing, just a small gray speck between the trees. I breathe a soft sigh of relief before glancing about me. I sense no monsters around the immediate area, thankfully. It's a sense that I acquired throughout my journey, and I can't say I enjoy it. I used to relish it, almost proud whenever the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. When it happens, I can almost mentally see the auras of the beasts, sometimes a deep red like freshly spilled blood. Occasionally they shift colors, such as a darker purple or poisonous black. The pride I felt eventually turned to fear for others, as I discovered where monsters resided, usually there were other races in trouble, most defenseless. Out here, the monsters are just a minor annoyance, appearing everywhere I go.

I let out another shuddering sigh, leaning heavily against the tree. Suddenly, a flash of white, and—

A house. A small, quaint house nestled between four great pines, run-down, shingles falling off the roof. Wood planks make up the small square building, dark from precipitation over the years. Vibrant green moss cascades over the roof and hangs down, obscuring the glassless windows and door. The trees cast ominous shadows upon it, as it's night. The house itself radiates a strange aura, an unexplainable color painted on the exterior only enhancing this essence. The air pulses with the hint of danger, but not the kind of thrilling danger most are familiar with. It's a disgusting, terror-inducing type.

The scene changes.

"No! Wait!"

"Your attempts to stop me are futile. Begone."

"No, I won't—"

Now it appears as if the view is inside the house, a tiny room with no decorations to be seen. A cloaked figure, his—according to his muscular, large frame beneath the black covering—his face further shadowed by the darkness within. His bulky figure overshadows a smaller one, who cowers, trembling, in a corner. In the center is pitch black darkness, nothing more. A swirling mass of pure black poison, suspended in the air.

"You are no longer of use to me," the figure growls somewhat maniacally at the smaller mass, who curls into a ball on the ground, the voice rising as if sickly excited. "Any last words?"

"Yeah," the smaller figure retorts, obviously a boy. He hesitates for a split second, his eyes tracing just above the other figure's hood. He spits out his next word as if he were nervous, but his brown eyes are hard as chips of stone. "Duck!"

A flash of black and gray.

I take a few steps back in surprise, as the vision fades as quickly as it came. I let out an involuntary gasp and glance behind me to ensure the man hasn't seen me. What…was that? I blink a few times before taking a tentative step forward, unconsciously bracing myself for another vision. It doesn't come. I frown, casting my eyes to where the stars shine far above. Was it a message from the heavens? Are they trying to tell me something? I shake my head, my hood rubbing against my skin and tousling my hair. I pull it around myself, a brisk wind cutting through my sleeves.

The pull of adventure is so strong I can almost taste it.

. . .

II.

The reassuring hefty weight of the Monado upon my back digs into my shoulder as I run steadily up the cave slope, my lungs begging for breath. Reyn runs right behind me, his heavy armor clanking loudly in the cave, echoing back through the way we came. Those Arachno has made us quiet, treading the rest of the cave in silence. A small circlet of pale light appears within the black abyss after a few more steps. An involuntary laugh escapes my lips as I push harder through the darkness. Just a little more, and we'll reach it!

The light taps of my boots on the rock floor are the only sounds apart from Reyn's own footsteps getting farther behind me. Adrenaline still pulses through my veins after the recent encounter with the Arachno. I shudder to think that Reyn might've died in the attack, had it not been for the Monado. Reyn, who is like my brother. Reyn, who I've known my entire life. Dead. I can't think of it. But, really, up until this point, he's had my back. And I've finally saved him. For once. Although it isn't much, it feels like an accomplishment. I'm not sure how else to describe it. I feel as if I have been changed for the better. My confidence has grown, I can tell in the way I stride, how I'm no longer fearful of certain conversations and the overall general social aspects of life, despite the noiseless communication between Reyn and me.

Now as my pupils dilate infuriatingly slowly to adjust to the light ahead, Numerous stalks of pale grass bending their heads to the superior wind are before me, covering almost every part of the land. Although we're up against a cliff, I can still feel the breeze blowing my blond hair to and fro. I step fully into the sunlight, pausing just a few paces outside of the cave from which we just emerged. The sunlight blinds me momentarily, but in the next instant it retreats from my vision, allowing me to gaze upon the vastness of the cliffside. In the distance, an enormous shadowed figure stands tall over the Bionis, which stands equally as tall. A small gasp escapes my lips as I stare at the alluring Mechonis, the breath of air failing to silence the pounding of my heart in my ears.

"Wow…" I breathe, my neck starting to cramp up from tilting it far above. The word is barely audible even to my ears, which seem to be muted, but somehow Reyn picks up upon it.

"No matter how many times I see this, I never get used to it," Reyn says, lifting his right hand up to shade his eyes from the sun. I don't know how he's able to see it in such a carefree manner.

We both turn in unison and look directly at the Mechonis, facing away from the Bionis. I still haven't regained my breath, the moment leaving me floored. To think of the two beings once fighting, and how the Homs now inhabit the Bionis, it's incredible. The Bionis, once a living organism itself, is now able to host so many different types of species. Clouds obscure my vision of the Mechonis, creating the illusion that it's a giant titan looming over the Bionis, about to strike. Then again, it is. I can barely discern flickering red lights where its "eyes" are supposed to be.

"On the other side of those clouds…" I trail off, not sure where I'm going to take the sentence. My throat is slightly scratchy from the yelling during the battle with the Arachno, and my voice emerges hoarse.

"Yep," Reyn jumps in for me, thankfully. "It's our enemy. Mechonis."

Suddenly in that moment, the awe that I had once felt is stripped from me, replaced by hatred. Fury rims my vision red as I stare with a narrowed gaze up at the darker figure, dark thoughts cycling through my head at speeds unknown. I feel the nails on my right hand dig into my skin, and I see in my peripherals that I have clenched my fist. I'm not even sure it was a conscious decision. A thought, unbidden, slips from the back of my mind and suddenly my grief is renewed all over again.

Fiora…

"Our enemy…" I barely get out through clenched teeth, my emotions seemingly attempting to escape the confines of my body. I want to get my hands on the faced Mechon that killed Fiora, I want to show it what it's done to me, show it the pain it caused Fiora…before she…

I can't bring myself to even think it.

"If we just came up the Bionis' shin…" Reyn's voice cuts into my thoughts, shattering them in mere nanoseconds.

Gathering myself quickly, I say evenly, "Then this must be its kneecap, right?" My voice is controlled on the outside, making me appear normal and unaffected by her death, but on the inside my emotions are all in a turmoil.

"Yup." Reyn responds too cheerily. I half wonder if he's doing it for my benefit. He continues enthusiastically, "Which means Colony 6 is up ahead!"

A path winds its way through two large overhanging cliffs, the earth draped in endless stalks of grass. My eyes dart over to a section of vines scaling a small cliff that leads up to the path, and eventually District 6. They look sturdy enough, the rope-like plants thick, appearing to be able to hold my weight, and hopefully Reyn's.

"Looks like we can climb up there," I say, pointing it out to Reyn, who responds heartily.

"Great!" Reyn shouts suddenly, causing me to turn and face him in surprise just as he punches his left hand with his right fist. "I love a good climb."

Gaur Plains is just up ahead… I think, rubbing my chin thoughtfully. We'll be closer to District 6…and closer to avenging Fiora's death…

. . .

"I have noticed even people who claim everything is predestined, and that we can do nothing to change it look before they cross the road." -Stephen Hawking

. . .

Extra tidbits:

-In this fanfiction, Hylians have lighter bones than a normal human and/or Homs. Other features include exceptional hearing and eyesight, pointed ears, and are abnormally agile. They don't, however, live as long as a Homs, the oldest usually reaching age 50 with a few exceptions.

-Link is going to have matured in the time upon which he returned from the land of Termina. He shall resemble the Link from the manga in the back of Hyrule Historia.

-Shulk is afraid of caterpillars, as mentioned in a heart-to-heart with the said Homs and Reyn.

-The Legend of Zelda wasn't originally called...well, the Legend of Zelda! It was called "The Legend of Zelda: The Hyrule Fantasy"! Rolls right off the tongue, does it not?

. . .

A/N - Hi guys! Arksendis here. I just want to say that I'm super excited for this fanfiction, and although it won't be updated often, I'll try the best I can. Hope you all enjoy! Make sure to drop a review, and/or PM me with tips, or other little things. This will probably be the only author's note for this entire series unless I have something pressing to say, and of course, there will be one on the last chapter. Thank you all for reading and reviewing!

Your author,

Arksendis