Of course I do not own any part of the Zelda series. I do own original characters and this short plot. It is up to you, as the reader, to decide whether or not I continue this story. If I do not recieve enough reviews saying that I should, than this will remain a oneshot.

Enjoy!

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Thunder cracked in the distance as torrential rainfall poured infinitely. A man leaned against a tree in the rain high atop a hill overlooking the entire Hyrule Field from the entrance to the Faron Woods. The man's white tunic was soaked with water under his thick steel chest plate. Shadow covered most of his face, save his eyes, the only light coming from the faint crescent moon shining through the thick clouds above. His retina were neon pearls, white as snow, no iris or pupil present in them as if devoid of any soul or spirit. His matching white hair clung to his neck and face with the water. In the distance he could see a large black mass advancing toward him. The largest collection of foul creatures were about to be upon him, and there was no doubtful thought in his head.

They aren't smart, he told himself. The largest beasts in the front, archers in the back, and mages in the middle; their formation is terrible. Then again, their numbers make up for the lack of intelligence. It's a shame…

Stabbed into the ground in front of the man was a titanium blade, glowing violet and measuring out at about six feet in length. Two blades came from the hilt and intertwined into one at the end. The man smirked and drew the sword into his left hand from its makeshift pedestal and began to walk towards the enemy. The tribal designs adorning his face added to the ferocious façade he wore. In his eyes pure animosity brewed, challenging the torrent of water with torrent of bloodlust. A sinister smile crept across his face as the enemy grew even closer, about one hundred yards in the distance.

They are no match for me.

The warrior pointed the tip of his sword at the massive army. They did not falter a single bit at his warning. Fifty yards separated them, and the man stood still, waiting for the army to make their move. An extremely tall man of ten feet at the very least walked from the frontline of his army towards the anonymous warrior, his blade sheathed at his side with confidence that he would not need it if the warrior attempted to strike him down.

"I go by the name Din, incarnate of the Being of Power," the army leader roared over the sound of thunder and rainfall. As he neared, the man opposite him clenched his massive blade's handle even tighter, the tip now pointing at the approaching man's neck.

"Why do you come to me?" the white clad warrior asked, his voice sounding like that of a female and a male speaking in unison.

Din stopped at the point of the blade, lightning flashes illuminating his hulking figure. He wore no armor or protective material of any kind. All that adorned him was a brown leather loin cloth, his massive circular shield, and his broadsword at his side.

"I come to offer you a choice," he responded, his dark brown skin cloaking him in the darkness. "You can leave us be while we ransack that small village far behind you, taking whatever we please and killing whomever we deem necessary to die, or you can stand here and fight an army massing over one hundred thousand. This is not an army of humans, foolish one. This is an army of anesthetics, bloodless, heartless beasts who only know how to kill, who lack any form of emotional control. All they seek is crimson blood staining the ground tonight, whether it is yours or the peoples of Ordon's. So, what do you choose?"

The warrior did not falter or react with any more than a light chuckle at first.

"I choose," he began. "To slaughter your army one by one until every threat to Ordon is finally destroyed. Your men have the same choice I do. I suggest you walk away with your army and take them back to whatever Hell they came from. You've fought with me before, and you saw how that turned out; the beauty mark across your chest should be a prime example. Attack me now and the same will happen to every single soldier of yours."

Din smiled, his black teeth showing and his matching eyes widening. The scar on his chest was significantly lighter in tone than the rest of his skin, clearly visible and noticeable. It stretched from the lower abdomen in a thick line towards his neck, stopping just inches before.

"So be it;" Din said, turning his back to Link and spitting to the side.

Din walked back to his army with pep in his step, about to feed his sensual desire for the death of his opponent.

"LINK DID NOT ACCEPT OUT OFFER!!!" he bellowed to his soldiers as he placed himself back into the frontlines. "PAINT THE LAND WITH HIS BLOOD!!!"

With that the entire army screeched with motivation as the archers readied their longbows and crossbows with arrows. The warrior just watched as his version of comedy unfolded before his eyes.

"I'm not Link," he said, laughing lightly. "I'm Oni, God of Destruction."

Oni stood and watched as a volley of arrows as wide as Lake Hylia was sent straight at his person. The arrows were moving with speed so quick that the human eye would barely know what was moving through the air. What little light that came through the blanket of clouds above was replaced with the thick, black smog that Oni conjured in thought.

"Your path of evil resolve ends tonight," Oni said to the army inaudibly. "Darkness will not fall tonight, but your blood will spill."

Oni charged the arrows, slashing through every one that came towards him. He was moving against time itself, seeing everything in a much more sluggish motion that the army, but retaining his super natural speed and grace. The world around him blurred until his blade wrenched into the stomach of Din, cleaving his flesh and organs before bursting through his spine, gory blood flowing freely from the wound. Oni wrenched his blade from side to side, smacking any advancing attackers with his skewed enemy before pulling his blood-soaked blade from Din.

The barbaric army leader did no more than fall to the ground and bleed more, clutching the puncture before his body went limp. His wound was visible to the troops around him, shocked at the damage Oni did with one attack. The blood began to wash away with the rain, traveling down the slight slope in the field, collecting in a large puddle settling at its base. Oni showed no remorse for his action, nor did he have any hesitation of repeating it on the nearest moblin. The creature squealed as Oni let it fall to the ground, back flipping way from the grisly scene so he could face the enemies around him. Every monster took a moment for their mouths to gape at what had just happened. Their leader had been slain with one blow, no fight even put up and the warrior that did it showed no sign of weakness. The army was beginning to question whether or not the fight was worth their deaths.

Reluctantly, they raised their blades and spears to Oni, ready to fight at the drop of a pen. In Oni's right hand was the blade sheathed by the leader he had murdered. In one quick motion Oni drew the blade from the sheath and held it high above his head. It sparkled with a golden glow reminiscent of the Light Arrows he had seen Princess Zelda use before.

Zelda, he thought to himself. I feel no hurt for killing that man. I feel no pain for shedding his blood. Why don't I have guilt, Zelda?

In Oni's left hand was his own massive blade, enshrouding his arm in blackness. Holding both swords in his hands as if to compare the two Oni looked back and forth to each numerously.

Is this a sign, Zelda? I don't feel any light within me anymore. All I feel is shadow. Why is this? I still fight for those who are pure an innocent, but I fight as if I am the enemy. I fight with a heartless desire to see those who oppose me suffer in the worst possible way. When my enemies are slain, I make their deaths gruesome and cruel. I make them feel pain. I twist the blade. Why do I have such brutal feelings? Why do I have such a chaotic soul? Why don't I have compassion?

The dark blade began to spread its cloud along Oni's chest, towards his other arm and the rest of his body.

Zelda, where is your love? Where is your light? Where is your guidance? Where is your compassion? Where is your grace?

Oni fell to the ground, tossing the glowing gold blade aside subconsciously and clutching the dark sword to his chest as its evil blanket clouded his vision. His last glimpse before total darkness was that of the army thrusting their spears and swords in his direction. Almost immediately Oni felt his entire body being bludgeoned with sharp objects, wrenching him in every direction, spraying his blood in directions opposite of his body. He couldn't see a thing, but he did know that he was lying on his back, both blades now gone his hands lying equal distances from him on either side of his body. The darkness that overtook him faded away from his eyes, giving Oni the pleasure of seeing the army stab and swipe at his body repetitively.

The pain seemed little to him now; no emotion was in his face.

Link… an ethereal voice echoed through his head…

"I am Oni," the bleeding warrior stated, completely monotone.

Link…

The voice came again, louder, but with the same soft spoken tone as before.

What has happened to you, Link? What have you become? Your quest for a means of reviving me has driven you to the brink of insanity. Link, I am honored that you fought so gallantly all this time to help me. Your will is stronger than that of any man I have ever met.

"But it didn't help, Zelda," Oni said into the night, his evil traits fading from his person. His hair returned to the blonde that it had once been. The pierced armor equipped on his chest disappeared along with his white tunic, leaving Oni in a dirty green form of clothing. The thin material was shredded and stained with blood. "I wasn't able to succeed. Even with the power of a god, I was cut asunder."

Link, that never had to happen. That wretched blade controlled you. You weren't able to act as the kind, compassionate person I once knew. The evil within the sword embedded itself inside your soul, Link. I know your will is strong, but even you can't resist its voice.

"I should never have turned to the way of that blade, Zelda. I never meant to become so corrupted. I thought the sword was a way to channel the power of the Triforce so I could use its magic in battle. I thought that the sword would open a pathway to your salvation."

As the deep cerulean blue returned to Link's eyes, he cried, for the first time since he could remember. Link then stood, the wounds in his body still bleeding profusely. He seemed unaffected by them, though; as he walked back a ways from the army, he began to stare at the sky, eventually closing his eyes.

Link, that doesn't matter now, Zelda's voice said, attempting to quell Link's self pity. All that matters is our love, Link. Through all the pain, the sweat, and the blood, our love is still present. Do you still wish to save me?

"Yes," Link answered with no hesitation, "more than anything. You gave me a reason to strive, Zelda. I need that feeling in my life, always. I'll do anything it takes to save you."

Then don't let this happen. Don't feed into the power of the darkness. Don't be seduced by false promises. Don't fall victim to evil's pretenses. Start anew and avoid the blade, Link.

Link was confused and becoming annoyed, thinking that his mind was playing tricks on himself. How was he supposed to start over with something that already happened?

"Zelda, how am I supposed to start over?" Link asked, baffled.

Wield the blade of light, Link. Feel the purity flow in your veins. Just take the blade into your palm, and believe that you have extinguished the darkness. Walk, Link…

As if on cue, the green clad man began to walk towards the blade of light, ignoring the war cries of the creatures surrounding him. Arrows penetrated his chest, piercing his lungs, causing him to gargle blood that rose in his throat. As long as he made it to the blade, he'd be fine. Most of Link's strength drained in a near instant, causing his knees to buckle beneath him, leaving Link to crawl hands and knees to the sword. With but a few feet left to go, Link was bludgeoned in the side with a rusted steel blade. The pain finally awoke him from his obsessive trance, forcing a blood-muffled scream out of Link that stunned his nearby enemies for a moment.

Keep going, Link… Reach for the blade..

Link collapsed facedown into the muddy grass below him. His left hand reached for the handle of the sword, his palm touching the metallic surface. As he attempted to clamp his hand around it a spear impaled his forearm in the ground. Feeling defeated, Link let out a series of loud, blood spewing sobs as he laid his head to rest on the ground. His breathing grew faint as the world around him darkened. The feeling began to leave his body, save for the touch of the sword on his hand.

Don't give up, Link… Grab the blade… Embrace your purity…

With his dying breath Link closed his hand on the blade, every sound around him going completely silent and every sight fading away completely. Link was slain on the field only minutes away from his home, never to see his loved ones again…