Finally! It's been years since I first came up with the concept of this story, and I am very excited to bring it to life. Anything below the M rating goes: swearing, violence, etc. If you want specific info on warnings or feel I should post a trigger warning, feel free to send me a PM!

(Cover art is by kowan on Deviantart.)

The End of Eras

Part I - The Kingdom of the Dying Sun

Introduction

The waxing crescent moon rippled in the moat of the dark, looming structure. In a tree on the far side of Hyrule Field, Zelda knotted the leather lead of her steed to a tree. The hair on the back of her arms rose with the chilly wind, and she swallowed the knot of anxiety building in her throat. As if it sensed her stress, the horse shifted and began to whine.

"Ready when you are, m'lady." Impa stepped out from the shadows of the woods on the edge of the field. She wore a worn but sharp rapier, the luster revealing dings and scratches in the handle. The rings underneath Zelda's protector's eyes were visible

Zelda pulled her quiver off the horse. The corner of her lips twitched upward. "Sleep well, did you?"

Impa gave a short laugh. "Bokoblins will do that to you. It's nearly two; we should go now while the moon is still thin." Zelda nodded at her, slipping her bow over her narrow but muscular torso as five familiar faces approached them from the camp in the forest. Taking a deep breath, she faced them, shoulders back and heels together.

"Tonight is not the night we take back our kingdom," she began. Her voice wavered ever so slightly, and she found her fingers fidgeting with the grey fabric of her cloak's back. She dropped her hands as her thoughts began to return. "But tonight, we take a leap towards that goal with the safe return of one of our closest allies."

At the mention of their mission, a thrilling energy seemed to run through the group, and a faint smile graced Zelda's lips. "I thank you all for your undying loyalty to your land, your people, and I, your rightful sovereign. May the goddesses be with you all tonight." Zelda held up her right hand, the Triforce on the back facing the group.

She closed her eyes. "Nayru, grant my people wisdom, power, and courage in the midst of battle. Keep them safe from harm as we achieve our mission." She shivered as the outline of the triangles shimmered gold. Something felt odd, but she let the power leave her body. Her hand dropped to her side, and she opened her eyes. They normally reflected the cloudless desert night skies she had seen so many of, but in the torchlight they were as blue as the sea.

"Ready when you are, Impa," she said.

From hundreds of feet away, a young man would only see the ground swallowing them, from the Sheikah's magic. He slid from the tree he had perched on and onto his horse, immediately shooting towards the castle. For only a moment, he had considered acknowledging the strange warmth in his left hand.

His blonde hair was short, and his green, fur-lined cloak was dotted with old blood.

Chapter One

Forty-eight hours earlier

Gods, I was thirsty.

Water. I opened my dry mouth, my tongue like sand and my lips like parchment. Cold, delicious water. If I hadn't been an idiot—and a soft one at that—maybe I wouldn't have been thrown into a cell to rot, my wrists hanging from the ceiling and my shoulders ready to slip off my arms.

Vaguely, I could hear something dripping. At first, thinking it was water, I cursed the shackles that kept me in place. That was before I realized it was probably someone bleeding out. It happened often; a Gerudo guard got upset, and a prisoner would have a sword wound in their stomach. Or it could just be a well-watered one taking a piss.

Daylight was never seen in the dungeons, but much time seemed to have passed. I didn't have a clue how long they had been aiming to keep me locked up. One day? Two? Five? I had to have been in there for at least two days, but I was questioning even that.

There was a creaking sound that hurt my ears and signaled my cell door being unlocked. I kept my head bowed and my eyes closed, and heard someone walk over. The sound of clinking jewelry resonated with each step they took.

"Hey, kid. Wakey wakey. Time to get up."

I lifted my head a bit and opened my heavy eyes. "Aveil," I said, my voice raspier than I had imagined. "'s good to see you, I guess."

She sighed and went around to my back to unlock the cuffs. They weren't designed to be comfortable; they were tight, and the inside of each was unpolished and unintentionally abrasive. The first time I wore them, I was eight. They had rubbed my skin raw, and I had nearly bled out from the wrists.

I staggered forward as my second arm was released, and collapsed in a heap. I made a weak noise, and Aveil groaned as she struggled to pull me onto my feet. "Stupid kid!" she grunted. "I had to get special permission to release you from King Dragmire himself. Don't make this any harder on me!"

After some time, she gave up on me, breathing heavily. I gave her a small smile.

"Sorry for my lack of cooperation?"

Aveil huffed and pulled out a water pouch that had been hanging on her belt. "Cup your hands." I complied, and cold liquid rushed into my trembling palms. Hastily, I drank, quickly feeling a bit sick in my stomach and light headed.

She tied the pouch closed. "That's all you're getting from me. I'd eat light tonight, if I were you, but you already knew that. And..."

I coughed. "Yeah?"

Aveil rubbed the ruby rings on her left hand and furrowed her brow. Unease was an unusual look on her. "This is the seventh time you've been sent down here within ten summers. You know that, right?"

I shrugged and rubbed at my eyes. I'd thought it was at least at twenty.

"Even after two floggings."

I made a face. "And your point?"

"We understood it was the Hylian blood at first, with the disobedience and rebellion and the insolence, but as an adult raised under the rule of King Ganondorf Dragmire... well, what I'm saying is that by now you should be mature and know the law. You know the king has been considering hanging you?"

Though my mind was foggy, she had my attention. "Hanging me," I repeated slowly.

"Hanging you," she said, folding her arms against her chest. "He was considering an execution tomorrow, but I managed to convince him otherwise."

I coughed again, and found the strength to get to my wobbly feet. Aveil saving anyone; what a joke. "Why?"

"Why what?" she asked, holding my shoulder to steady me.

"Why did you convince him otherwise?"

She tilted her head down slightly. "You're different from the other boys under my command. You have... a rare type of potential. I'd hate to not see where that takes you, Link."

I didn't reply, and she simply left me on my own. It was a rare occurrence that a Gerudo referred to a Hylian employed under King Dragmire by their name, if they had chosen one. Usually it was just the number branded above our outer right wrists. Mine read '109'.

I finally took notice of the aching pain that pulsated through my entire body. Swallowing, I stepped out of the cell and realized I was in an unfamiliar area in the dungeons, which surprised me when considering how often I had been shoved down there. I turned left in hopes that it was the right hall. Other prisoners sat silently, shackled in their cells: filthy Hylian men, women, and even a shaking child. A Goron covered in gashes, though there was no blood; Gorons did not bleed, but they could feel pain. A sickly-looking Zora moaned in the corner of her cell as she dried up. I felt their big, glassy eyes crawling all over me as I passed by, grabbing hold of the bars to keep myself standing and to get out of there as quickly as possible. It made me uncomfortable some nights, as I would lie in bed and realize there were prisoners dying below me at that very moment.

"…to return yet?"

Freezing instantly, I realized I had taken a wrong turn. Aveil's voice, no doubt. I began to turn around, but stopped at the second voice.

"Why do you play mistress with your king, Aveil?"

'Mistress'? Everyone knew that Aveil and the king were cozy, though none dared to mention it out loud.

There was a rattling of chains. "You shut your filthy, traitorous mouth." This was Aveil's voice. "You'd be half dead or worse if I didn't see that you were constantly fed and tended to!"

Maybe I should've just gone and minded my own business. But my interest was piqued by the fact that the prisoner had the soft accent most of the Gerudo held. It was rare that one of those women was ever locked down there.

I sneaked a look. The prisoner was a Gerudo woman, her red hair limp, her cheeks gaunt, and her skin unusually pale. She sat against the wall without chains binding her to the cell, but her expression was smug.

Nabooru, I realized.

My heart began to race. I had seen her often as a child before she had vanished. She had been like an older sister to me, like family.

So she had committed treason. How was she alive?

I hid my head behind the corner again, and listened. "Why do you visit me, Aveil?" I heard Nabooru ask. "I mean, if you despise me for what I've done, why do you even keep me alive in the first place?"

"Oh, so do you want me to let our king speak with you, Nabooru?"

I heard the smirk in her voice. "But you won't. I know you won't."

"Maybe I will."

"We'll just have to see then."

There was the sound of footsteps coming towards my corner, and I slipped down the hall, back towards the stares of the prisoners and my recent cell. There, I took a quick break to steady my breath and clear my vision of dark spots before continuing. I took a left that time, and felt the ground slope up.

Nabooru is a traitor, I couldn't help but think the entire way, though I was unsure how I felt. The words echoed in my head.

She's alive.

I pushed the voices from my mind. Reaching a familiar area, I let my mind guide me out. The way into the dungeon was through the guardhouse. Although there were brunette and blonde heads among them, the majority were a fiery orange.

The guards were either passed out or too drunk to notice me. I saw two women paying an awful lot of attention to a soldier—what was his name? Gawain?—and I averted my eyes quickly before I saw too much of him.

I made my way into the Main Hall of the castle and up the staircase, avoiding all eye contact with the occasional servant, before making it to the washrooms. Going up to a basin, I quickly turned the faucet, letting clean, cool water flow. I drank again, water running down my front. The cold liquid had the familiar metallic taste from the pipes I was used to, unlike what was in Aveil's pouch. That was likely taken straight from the river.

Turning off the faucet, I glanced at my reflection in the water in the basin. Dipping my hand in, I combed my fingers through my disgusting hair. Not perfect, but better. Not like I had anybody to impress.

I went to leave the washroom, but not before bumping into a muscular chest. I took a cautious step back, and gave the owner an apologetic look.

"Hey, Lucan," I said, starting to inch around the fellow. Lucan was the strongest of every man in the castle, save for perhaps King Ganondorf himself. He shared the gold eyes, thick red hair, and tanned skin of the Gerudo, but had small pointed ears. He always swore that one day he would slice off the points with his sword and become one of them completely.

As if that would change his blood.

We were also roommates, as all of us had a special place in the enormous castle. Most shared with one or two others, but Lucan had taken the place for himself. Personally, I had no complaints about it in the slightest. The stench of body odor and sweat that hung around the room like a drape was enough to make anyone faint.

He opened his mouth as I blurted out, "I was leaving." Lucan puffed out his chest even more than what seemed to even be possible, and crossed his arms. A couple of his buddies stepped out from behind him; not very muscular, but unbendingly loyal to the boy.

"So, where were you the last couple of training days? Slacking? In trouble with the King, or Aveil? Well, you certainly have the welts on your wrists to prove it!" He let out a laugh.

I twitched, inching closer to the exit. Don't give them the satisfaction of a response.

Lucan smirked. "...or maybe you were just sitting in the rain all day, crying over dear old Rusl. What a joke! I bet he-"

My fist knocked upside Lucan's jaw the moment he was caught off guard, and I rolled past him. I wasn't particularly muscular, but I was quick. One of his friends dove at my leg, and I slipped as I pulled it out of his reach. He groaned as his face hit the cool tile.

"Bastard!" one yelled as I scrambled to get back on my feet and sprinted out of the washrooms. The upholstery and wallpaper began to blur as I picked up speed, and my throat burned. I slowed as I reached the main staircase, and turned until I stopped at a lesser-used hall.

The place was unfamiliar to many of the castle's inhabitants, although it shared the same red and gold palette and delicate chandeliers. Glancing around, I reached a large, painted map of of New Gerudo. According to the books, the land had been ruled by a ruthless monarch before King Dragmire took over nearly a decade earlier. He brought peace and order. For the first time in many decades, the economy had begun flourishing. The castle had used to belong to a tyrant king and his queen before they were overthrown.

Before the Gerudo, it had been called Hyrule.

I tilted the painting and slipped into the small, musty passage behind it. A long, spiral staircase led to the top of the unused East Tower. It was where I often took sanctuary instead of my assigned room with Lucan.

It must've belonged to a young girl once. There were jewels, dolls, and soft, silken bedding, much of it in a soft violet color. The window was colored glass, and the drapes were white. On a desk sat a small book with a child's big, illegible handwriting. Strange as it sounded, I liked to look through it and admire the scribbled drawings. One showed a man, a woman, and a child all holding hands. They were Hylian. Some dolls sitting on the dresser were pale skinned with braided yellow and brown yarn for hair, garbed in blue cloth. They had tiny pointed ears stitched on the sides of their faces.

The king and queen's daughter's room: the young princess of Hyrule. She had been executed with them. When I had realized that, I decided not to change the room. She was only a child; she didn't choose to be the daughter of an evil man. Neither of us chose our birth.

Raindrops tapped on the roof above me, and thunder rolled through the sky. Closing the door to the room, I sat in the tiny but soft bed and reached for my stash hidden under the duvet: beef jerky and bread rolls. Slowly, I ate a strip of jerky, and then a single roll. It was already giving me nausea, but I had to eat at some point, and at least I wasn't vomiting from overeating. I knew better than to stuff myself while half starved.

While I chewed, my mind drifted back to Nabooru. Big sister Nabooru, who showed respect towards me when I was just ten years and responded only to one-zero-nine. She had been twenty.

We had been leaning against the fence, watching the older children fight with swords. My arms were too weak to hold a sword, too soft. She was to my right, drinking something from a mug.

"You don't have a name, do you," she had said. I shrugged, and showed her my arm, where the numbers had been branded into my skin.

"I have this."

She rolled her eyes. "I mean a real name, kid. Not a number."

It was a moment before I had hung my head in shame.

Nabooru gave a kind smile. "Well, we'll just have to fix that. What kind of a name do you want? A long one, like 'Tristan of the Termanian Town Trasva'?"

I had giggled softly. "That's too long. It's silly, too."

"How about a shorter one?" she suggested. I nodded in agreement. Nabooru tapped a finger on her lips thoughtfully. Her eyes lit up. "I know the perfect one! How do you like 'Link'?"

"'Link'." I tried it out in my mouth. It had felt right. "I like it."

Nabooru grinned. "Great! Now you'll have a name like all the other boys. Also," she had leaned in to whisper into my ear, "the name has been lost from time, but it once belonged to the bravest hero who ever walked the land."

"Really?" I asked, my eyes wide.

"Really," Nabooru had grinned. She ruffled my hair. "You'll be my brave hero, okay, Link?"

A small smile crept onto my lips at the memory. I wiped the crumbs of dinner onto the floor and laid back on the thick quilt and fluffy pillows. I had missed Nabooru, like I now missed Rusl. Seeing her again had sparked some sort of happiness in me that I hadn't felt in a long time. Forget that she was a traitor; she was alive.

I'd visit her the following day during the afternoon, when Aveil would be training and I'd have recreational time. I'd say I left a talisman in my cell, or just slide past the drunk guards.

I'd see her tomorrow.

With that thought in mind, I closed my eyes, and in minutes fell asleep to the rain tapping on the stained-glass windows.