Well, I'm completely ad-libbing this fic, so bear with me here. It's a motivational one, yay. So sit back and enjoy! And REVIEW! It's sorta like For My Ideals, so if ya liked that fic, u might like this one.
Disclaimer-I don't own Zelda...*sob*
The Smallest Flame
Through the scorching sands of honor,
In a desert of deception,
A loyal gypsy woman wanders
As the bandit of exception.
Everyone but her had begun to be enthralled by the beguiling bloom of corruption as each bloody petal unfolded temptingly unto the ignorant world. Victims would unknowingly reap the blossom of turmoil, inhaling the enrapturing pollen of an evil less known, thus enabling them to become a petal of that flower. And as time silently passed its harsh hand across a grief-stricken kingdom, the flower could only grow, collecting petals after petals. Naboroo watched from afar, helpless to her people, as debauchery gradually consumed them, year by heart-wrenching year. She fought valiantly in an ongoing struggle against the dark force, bearing numerous wounds from each battle. Despite her desperate attempts at curing her feeble people of the vile disease, the Gerudos could only be sickened more, as their fevers burned deeper.
Ganondorf had robbed the mindless fools of any righteousness to behold innocense. But Naboroo had escaped, concealing her countenance in the Spirit Temple, as she prayed for her people. She fought past the pain in her heart with every spectacle of evil and violence from her people, as they began to kill children, burn villages, and disrupt the very innocense of a virgin land. But she would not give up hope yet, not like this. Somehow, Naboroo knew the Gerudos could be healed, it would just take time and effort on her behalf. But how could one mortal possibly save generations of her own people? She was a woman among hundreds.
She was a mere flame against a fire.
A bandit among toiling thieves
As her people's illness churns;
She fights for what the good believes
Because the smallest flame still burns.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A golden heart among the bronze,
A forest girl will still shine bright.
Although she is of time's cruel pawns,
She partakes in the righteous fight.
The only person that she had fully understood, and who in return could understand her as well, had been torn from her heart-rending grasp. The calling of a hero had parted ways between Link and Saria. Why must Link disembark from Kokiri Forest, from the only home he had known, from her? Time has a funny way of breaking hearts. Had the Goddesses of Hyrule wanted this...had Link wanted this? Saria had become wise among her many years, yet she had still the childish stubbornness of letting go. Destinies painfully diverge in life, rarely intervene, and never stay the same. She had learn that sorrowful truth many times in her life, but never such as harsh as this. A butterfly may never live with a spider, lest its delicate wings should be severed in the web. A fish will never fly with the bird and the bird shall never swim with the fish. That was life.
Countless a night Saria spent under the moon, conjuring up methods in which she and Link could coexist, and always retiring as the sun would rise, once again becoming hopeless. As silently as the stealth paw of a predator, realization and acceptance replaced Saria's despairing denial. They were not meant to be, for the cruel hand of fate had created an impermeable wall of fingers to deny their crossing of paths. But now she understood, for the underlying truth was that her destiny had been to aid Link in his trials and tribulations of the quest. Saria was his only line of help. She would give him a helping hand wherever Link's destiny would take him. Perhaps not in body should the two be together, but in mind and spirit, they were forever friends.
A light among the shadows dark,
The child of the forest learns
That destinies will leave their mark,
And yet the smallest flame still burns.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A believer among untrust,
As the princess had foreseen
Of the path to tread she must
To find what legends mean.
Zelda felt as if every pair of eyes and every steady finger in all of Hyrule lay accusatively on her. She was the reason for the downfall of their kingdom, she was the reason for their pain and suffering. Yet like every other human, Zelda also deserved sympathy, for mistakes are understandably made in the field of life. Although hers could bring the downfall of a world and the death of a people. But she was following her dreams, listening to every note of their warning, and taking heed. The princess was completely alone, begging in the shadows of solitude for an end to her long journey. But she had not the quest of a hero or a legend, she was merely the creator of the adventure, having released an evil so vile as to have demolished any goodness in Hyrule at all.
The princess could only watch in wait in anticipation as Link continued his quest, praying that one night her dreams would be filled with light and warmth. But every night her visions would be filled with terror and death. Her heart went out to those who had gone before her into the afterlife and for those who had been deprived of any innocense. She could only hope. But hope is something that stains the soul, always there, always waning, despite our denial. It thrives, it dies. In a constant cycle of pain and fortune. And all Zelda could do was hope.
Hope among failure.
A giver among takers
As a princess for the turns,
Where good shall fill forsakers
As the smallest flame that burns.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A savior among killers
In a mass of bodies slain.
An end of journey's thrillers
To return to pure reign.
He could almost taste the sweet savor of victory, as it lay in reach of Link's lips. Life had been so ironic in the course of his fulfillment of destiny, he had killed so many lives, yet he was the only hope in saving others. Hyrule had become his country, his people. His only wish was to help them, relinquish them of their fear. They had become his children, he would embrace them tightly. Disappointment fills his soul as the adventure nears its long-awaited end. But his body begged for rest and relaxation, because he, too, had lost much blood.
In an adventure that had began in despair, a light can now be seen at the end of the tunnel, the end of the journey is close at hand. The evil blossom now blooms into a flower of peace, of hope, and yet, there are still traces of dew upon the soft petals, lingering as reminders that evil can thrive from hate, from greed. The thorns no longer draw blood, only a yearning for a brighter tomorrow, and a brighter today. And at the end of that tunnel there burns a small flame, barely flickering, but that is all that matters. For we are all small flames, barely there, but someday, when we set aside our petty differences, we shall be as one fire, joining together to outlast even the blaze of the sun. It takes everyone, every flame.
Even the smallest.
A hero among legends,
Whose childhood he yearns.
Among the people he defends
As the smallest flame that burns.
Ok finally I'm done, it's hard to ad-lib. Ok it got sucky towards the end. Anyway, did it touch your heart, let me know, REVIEW! I dunno, I think it touched my stomach, I'm hungry. BYE!!!