Author's Note:
This is a short piece I decided to do, as I work on a story that will (hopefully) one day incorporate these two scenes or ones like them. The story follows the tenuous alliance between the Kingdom of Hyrule and the fledgling Republic of Termina, almost two decades after the events of Majora's Mask. In my version of events, Humans and Elves evolved separately; the Elves with their ability to wield magic, and Humans with their keen minds for sciences and the art of war. But the Hylians enslave the Humans early on in their history, until men rise up, and leave the Kingdom of Hyrule to begin their own nation in the land of Termina.
Hope you enjoy, and please give me feedback!
Freedom means you are unobstructed in living your life as you choose. Anything less is slavery.
Every nation is built upon the blood, sweat, and tears of those bound by chains of iron or obligation. Hyrule was no exception. The oral traditions had said the Goddesses, those three divines who were supposed to have made the world in their image, created from the earth all the races that would inhabit this new land. Of all the peoples that Farore had crafted from the clay that Din laid in the ground, and the air Nayru had breathed into the sky, though, she cherished one people above all others.
Out of the stone, she crafted the mighty Gorons, the fierce, but loyal denizens of the highest mountain tops. Out of the water, she formed the Zoras, as elegant as they were graceful, they were given domain over the rivers and tributaries of Hyrule. The wood from the trees of the vast forests were carved into the shapes of small children, the Kokiri, to be eternally playful, and to guard the fairies who made the forest their home.
Finally, turning to the scorched lands of the western desert, legend held that Farore scooped the sand into her hands, and molded the first Hylian. The figure stood upright, the ears pointed so as to better hear the goddesses decrees, with minds that would see the truth. But the sands of the desert made poor models, and before Farore could finish breathing life into their shells, they began to fall apart. Their forms became scrappier, their ears rounded. The verdant goddess turned away from the desert in dismay, leaving the half-finished shells to melt back into the shifting sands.
But the shells refused to melt.
As Farore stood upon the highest point in the field that connected all the disparate regions of the land, she crafted her final race out of the pure aether that comprised her essence. This was her favoured race, the Hylians, the people she would gift her magical abilities to, in order for them to shape the land as they needed after Farore had left them to join her sisters in the heavens.
Deep in the desert, though, wise men told of the shells of the Goddesses' failed creations. Though they looked much like Farore's Favoured, they were denied that which had made the Hylians so gifted. Though they excelled at feats of the physical, and possessed minds sharper than any blade, they were quickly subjugated by their brothers, made slaves by the King of the Hylian tribes even as he decreed in stone that no Hylian shall ever again endure bondage.
This is the story of the Human race.
The clashing of swords, the thumping of maces upon armor, the grunt of men, mer, and beast alike, exhausting themselves upon one another sounded like some deathly chorus from the underworld.
Hylian soldiers, decked in armor from head to foot, swung broadswords with ease, while the Terminian army, consisting of both Humans and Gorons, fought back with short swords and rifle bayonets against the oncoming horde of Moblins, Dinolfos, and Skeletal Stalfos warriors. But the battle wasn't turning in their favour. The central plaza of Hyrule Castle town was littered with the dead, but it was plain to see that the Enemy was singularly focused on the prize, the great white castle looming above them all, upon the hill, and was willing to sacrifice as many troops as he needed to take the keep.
"And he has many." Jim said, staring across the battlefield from the trenches dug around the entrance to the castle keep. Now the defacto leader of the Terminian Army, Jim was coordinating with the rest of his lieutenants and the generals of the Hylian army. But he could see now that their lines would not hold, no matter the courage of the men at his disposal.
Terminian men in the trenches took potshots with their rifles, but at this range they'd be lucky not to hit any of their comrades, these weapons were meant for concentrated volleys, not precision.
Jim turned to one of the Hylians standing to his left. "Bring up your archer reserves, have them take the high ground on the battlements and give covering fire to the troops." Archers at this range would be much more effective. A shot rang out several feet away, a Terminian man had just fired his rifle, a smoky haze masked his face, so Jim couldn't tell who it was. "And tell those idiots to hold their goddamn fire!" The Elf nodded and dashed off.
Caius, one of the Queen's Generals, rode up on horseback and quickly dismounted, the Elve's gaudy, decorative gold armor clicking obscenely.
"Where's your General, Human?" He snarled contemptuously. Jim stared at him momentarily, then pointed to the hastily pinned star on the shoulder of his leather long coat. Caius swallowed his displeasure and handed him a report.
"The leader of the mountain people, Darunia, is on his way with two hundred soldiers." He said, the incredulity almost dripping off of his tongue. "He would never have come if there weren't already a bunch of his cousin rockbiters dying out there, I don't see why-" But he was cut off when Cor Amito, one of Jim's lieutenants stepped up, having overheard the conversation. Caius immediately shut his mouth when the Goron, donned in a Terminian uniform covered in soot from the canon fire outside of town, stared him down.
Turning to Jim, he said. "General, we were forced to abandon our position outside the gates before we were surrounded." Jim nodded curtly, expecting the Goron to turn and leave, but he didn't. "Through the smoke, several of the cannoneers said they saw your man, Link, riding out against the tide of creatures pouring in, they said the sea of monsters seemed to part before him as he rode for the top of the hill."
Jim bowed his head for a moment. "Link's doing his part, now I must do mine." He looked up at the the Goron. "Lieutenant Amito, were you able to salvage any of the canons?"
Amito nodded. "Sir, we were. We were able to recover most of them, I've moved them to your right flank." He pointed off in the distance. Behind him Jim felt a new presence draw closer. He leaned down over a map of the large square and beckoned the Hylian general and the Terminian Lieutenant closer.
Caius almost immediately began pointing out positions for the artillery. "You bring those damnable contraptions to the center, and prepare for a final volley!" He growled, stabbing a stubby finger into their position.
Amito immediately reached across the table and seized the Elf by the neck. "You would have me fire on my ownmen, you coward!" Cor Amito's breath grew slow and deep, and Jim knew the signs that a Goron was about to kill a man. By now, the rest of his lieutenants had gathered 'round, and were staring at the spectacle. None moved to hinder the Goron; they had seen how the Hylians treated other races. With their magic, they had brought every tribe in the kingdom to heel, but without it they were now the vulnerable ones. The scene was silent for a moment, save the battle raging only hundreds of feet away, and the sputtering of General Caius as he moved to free himself pitifully from the Goron's strong grip.
"Lieutenant Amito, put that man down!" The words cut through the air like a sword, the Goron turned, eyeing the Queen as she made her way forward, the rest of the Terminian soldiers parting for her. Amito turned to Jim, who nodded.
Cor Amito let go, and Caius fell to the ground, sputtering for air, grasping at his throat, as if his dignity might be hiding under his collar. Turning to the Queen, the Goron nodded in what was closest in the Terminian Army to respect for the Hylian crown that could be mustered. "That man just suggested the wholesale slaughter of everyone in the plaza-"
"He's right." Amito was silenced as he turned to look at Jim. He stared the Goron down, giving the man the respect he commanded, for in the Goron society, a challenge could only be made between two equals, and downcast eyes were a sign of inequality. "They are expecting us to fight to the last man, and in close quarters like this, they have only to whittle us down till they can walk right up to the castle and take it. "He clenched his raised hand into a fish.
"This is our last chance to rout them out, to drive them back outside the walls and regroup. They take the Keep, we lose, and in time the sickness will spread, from this land to ours, and who will be left to defend the Clock Tower? The city of Snowpeak? The senate will be disbanded or killed and our families will die fighting, but they will die, if we do not succeed here."
Turning to the Queen, Jim sighed. "These are my orders: prepare the reserves, Lieutenant Amito bring the canons up front and load the shot canisters." Turning to his lieutenants, the six men huddled around him. "We will be the ones to fire the shot, not our subordinates.
He pointed to the men, Gorons, and Elves fighting and dying out on the battlefield. "Those men out there deserve better than that, and while I cannot give it to them, I will not tarnish another's honor with my decision. Any man who is unwilling is hereby freed of his service to the Terminian Army." The six men were silent, but none turned to leave.
One of the men, his left eye covered in a wrap, looked to the ground and kicked at the dirt. "The death mask maker is going to 'ave his 'ands full." The rest nodded.
Jim turned to Amito. "You have your orders." The Goron saluted. Bending down, he picked up from the Hylian general, who fought to release himself from his grip.
Jim nodded. "General, per your suggestion, you are duty bound to fire a cannon." He turned to the Queen. "Unless her Grace does not approve."
Queen Zelda's face was a mask, unmoving, unknowable. "General Caius, you will answer to General Jim now, see that his orders are followed to the letter." The general looked at her in disbelief, which quickly turned to hatred.
"Alright little man, you're coming with us." Amito growled, as he threw the general over his shoulder and, followed by the rest of Jim's staff, began navigating the trenches towards the cannons.
"I never liked him. An old ally of my father's, he served him well, but I could always feel his ambitions were more for himself than for the Crown."
Jim looked off in the direction of his departing staff. "That's what you Elves get for having people swear allegiance to a gaudy gold circlet, to a name, a dynasty."
Though Jim felt he had struck a nerve, the Queen's tone wouldn't reveal as much. "And you think your 'Articles of Governance' inspire any more loyalty? You think if it were burned to ash and your republic disbanded, that your people would rise up and fight to the last? Your government puts too much worth in the idealism of its subjects."
Jim's face turned red as he pivoted to face Zelda. "These people are citizens of the republic, everyone of them equal before the letter of the law. Though it may not occur to you and yours, our nation is a collective of free peoples who choose to be apart of a system where no one is above the law. Not a disparate group of tribes united under the threat of a war, should they disobey the crown."
He saw the corners of Zelda's mouth tighten, and for a moment the veil of an unflappable Monarch disappeared. "You know nothing of the history shared by the tribes of Hyrule, nothing. Your people are just as guilty of the love affair with war as any of us." Her toned calmed somewhat, as Zelda worked to compose herself after her unQueenly outburst. "Besides, it looks as though you are acquiring a... taste, for the art of war. They should have made you general years ago."
Jim snorted. "So I could send more boys off to die? So I could command men to kill other men for greed or pride? If I live through today, I'm stepping down. All I ever wanted was to protect my town, lead the homeguard. But this..." He waved a hand in the direction of the fighting. He turned to Zelda. "I'm about to fire on my men, on your men, have you nothing to say?"
Though she knew the words would mean nothing to him, to a human, she still spoke them. "May the Goddesses watch over them."
Feeling disgusted, he turned away, almost favouring to watch the slaughter out on the field, than listen to the words of a mad Queen.
"Yes, may they."
"Sir!" Cor Amito yelled over the battle, which was drawing closer. "Sir, the cannons are in position, the shot has been loaded!" Jim nodded and rallied the rest of his men to him.
"Take your positions!" He roared. The men took torches from the cannon crews, who seemed almost reluctant to give them up, and stood behind the artillery pieces.
Jim stood behind his own, mounted near the center, and looked to his Lieutenants commanding the reserves. When the time came, the last of his soldiers and the Hylian elves would do their job, or die trying. Signalling to Cor Amato, the Goron brought his horn up and bellowed into it. The call rang out across the plaza and Jim hoped that many of the men would understand what it meant, and do their best to take cover.
Many must have, because dozens of men fell to the ground, leaving ranks of bewildered monsters in their sights. Jim, torch heavy in hand, brought the flaming tip down, igniting the wick.
The cannon bucked, sliding back, as the cannister shot, consisting of dozens of smaller balls tore into the ranks of the monsters. The heavy smoke obscured his view, but Jim could only imagine the scene; the Enemy plastered with lead balls, ripping insides apart, causing many to break rank and retreat. But some of the shot would find its way into the backs' of his men, as well as those of the Queen. Goron's swinging huge steel battleaxes crying out in anguish as they were struck in the back, men and mer falling unsuspectingly from friendly fire.
But the smoke did not abate, and Jim would not know till the battle was over how many of his men had died by his hand. Taking in one trembling breath, he unsheathed his sword. Screaming into the smoke, a primal animalistic howl, Jim soon found himself surrounded by men of all shapes and sizes, moving as one, all pushing forward.