Author Notes

First off, I would like to thank all readers and reviewers in advance for taking an interest in my story. I am new here to and I hope that my stories prove to be well-written enough to be hosted on this website. There are a few things I would like to explain before we start this story. First of all, I don't even own my own computer, much less Soul Calibur or Zelda. Second, some of you may notice that I am using Twilight Princess as Link's background, even though technically the Link in Soul Calibur 2 is from Ocarina of Time. I'm using creative license. So please do not mention that, I am well aware of it and I decided to write it this way because this is the inspiration I received. Third, I welcome reviews and criticism, and would greatly appreciate reviews of all sorts. However, I do NOT appreciate mindless flaming. There is a fine line between harsh criticism and pointless insults.

So, now that I'm done preaching, please enjoy my very first Soul Calibur story!

End Author Notes

Soul Calibur II

No Sword Forged Stronger

Chapter 1: Wandering Soul

The creaking of a wooden chair echoes through the halls of the old run-down cottage. Lights from the fireplace danced across a weary wrinkled face, furrowed deep in concern and thought. The blue eyes, serene and sad, stared into those lights constantly flickering back and forth, as if in a constant battle of light and shadow on the elderly man's face. The short grey hair of the man every now and then fell into his bleak face, only to be absentmindedly brushed aside by an aged finger. He moved slowly back and forth in the wooden chair, even though it was solidly planted on the ground on its four legs. Somewhere outside, the howl of a coyote outside preceded the rising of the moon.

"He said he'd be here by nightfall. That boy is probably walking to the door this very second." The old man said quietly to himself. No sooner had those words left his mouth when three sharp bangs of a fist on wood broke the silence of the humble home.

"Speak of the devil." The elderly figure muttered in a withdrawn voice before he rose from his resting place and made his way to the door. The floor creaked in protest under the man's solid leather boots before he came to a halt in front of the rather shabby wooden door. "Ha, This place is falling apart. Maybe I should get this place looked at one of these days." He sighed again before turning the brass doorknob and swinging the door open to welcome in a young man, perhaps roughly the age of twenty.

He was in good physical shape, his body was well-toned and sturdy, his skin was the fair tan of someone who was outside a lot. He wearily ran a hand through his sweat-soaked blond hair. A proud green tunic covered his body, over a blue-white undershirt. And a light chainmail shirt could be barely seen in between those two garments. An old and battered, but well-kept and sturdy shield covered a sword sheathe on the young man's back. It was blue, with multiple red designs and a single golden design of three golden triangles all arranged with one empty triangular space between them. His leather boots were almost identical, though a bit more worn, than the ones worn by the elderly man.

"Ah, yes, come in, come in. You've been saying that you wanted to talk to me." The elderly man, followed by the youth, walked inside his humble cottage. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you." The youth replied wearily. He gazed around at the old wood, the weathered ceiling, obviously patched several times, even the stool the old man sat back down on seemed ready to break under its own weight. "This place looks like it's about to fall apart."

The old man chuckled lightly to himself, "Yes, well, it's home all the same." He then shot a puzzling glance at man standing in the middle of the living room. A man, whom was but a boy to this old timer. He chuckled lightly to himself, then said, "You know, that old thing behind you, it's called a couch." He motioned to the old couch near the fireplace. "Wonderful idea really, the concept of sitting comfortably on your butt while you carry on a conversation. Must have taken a real genius to come up with it."

"All right, I got the point." The 'youngster' said as he sat down into the moth-eaten furniture

"Well then, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"I..." the youth started hesitantly, obviously unsure how to word his statements, "I don't know. I feel...lost. I mean, I am a warrior. I fight. But..." He stopped for a moment. "I can't do this anymore. The fighting, the killing. I have enemies stronger than I will ever be. But I don't feel just physically outmatched but...as if I am losing a battle in my very soul."

The old man listened intently and remained silent for a moment. Then smiled, a warm, loving smile. "I see."

"What do I do?"

The old man did not respond. Instead, he rose from his chair and walked into the back of his house. There was a momentary pause in his footsteps, followed soon by the resuming of the creaking of moving feet on the floor. As he sat back down, he carried something long, wrapped in leather and bound in thin ropes to hold the leather tightly closed.

"What is that?" The young man inquired.

"A memento from a long time ago. Something very precious to me." His old hands skillfully undid the knots and removed the ropes, then unfolded the leather. What was produced was absolutely breathtaking.

It was perhaps four feet in length, with multiple designs etched into the steel of the weapon. It's hilt, a golden color, with a single red jewel in the pommel of the hilt. The guard extended outwards, like that of a standard blade, but then turned upwards to go parallel with the blade, like some trident with a far longer middle prong. Multiple etchings were carved into the golden hilt, almost looking like exotic writing, and where the hilt ended was the design of a fearsome eagle, with the blade protruding from its open beak.

"That is an impressive weapon. Is it the same one you wielded a long time ago?"

The elderly man shook his head, "No, this weapon is not mine, though it is not unfamiliar to me. But it's history is a tale that might help you understand yourself. You see young one, I know what your problem is."

"Can't you just tell me?"

The man sighed, "Patience young one, it is not so simple as to just tell you how to fix it. You must find the answer. I am just helping you in that process. Now, would you like to listen to my tale, or should we call it a night right here?"

The young man in green shook his head, "No, I'm sorry, I was ungrateful. Please, tell me your story."

"All right then. Now, then, this began many years ago..."

This forest was a fond memory. One he wanted to savor. One last time here, before he left. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, breathing in the crisp morning air. He wouldn't even be able to bring Epona with him this time. No, this time, he must go alone. He clenched his fist in anger. He had wanted so badly to live a peaceful life. He had seen enough battle to last him a lifetime. Why was he going off to wage war against evil again?

A quick memory of his friend flashed through his head, and he knew why.

"Ilia..."

The rain fell heavily from the sky, the storm seemed to come out of nowhere. Villagers were rushing to and fro, finding children, Sera was taking one last minute to lock up the shop, Rusl hurried off to find Colin and bring him inside,, and Link? He was herding goats into the barn. According to Fado, they get cranky when they get wet. Link couldn't quite recall where this storm had come from, all he could remember is the sky being clear one moment and all of the water storehouses of heaven being open the next.

Water storehouses of heaven? Wow, while his adventures worked wonders for his swordsmanship, apparently his creativity was not so profoundly affected. It was official, Link was never going to be an author.

With the last goat herded, Link left a sopping wet Epona at the ranch this night and ran his muddy self home. He cursed himself for his luck, but seeing how deep the mud was, he was probably going to have gotten muddy whether or not he had fallen off Epona that earlier day. He couldn't quite remember how THAT happened. He just remembered being grateful that he wasn't that clumsy when he battled the King of Evil.

And here he was, running his way home, all for Epona's sake. It was just as well, if he rode Epona home to where there was no shelter, he certainly would have received a harsh tongue-lashing from a certain horse-loving young woman. Link could swear that he was almost downright jealous of Epona at times. His soaked hands grasped the ladder to his home and he began the short climb up to his house. For some reason unknown to him, he couldn't quite seem to get his mind off of the fact that he was the only person who had to climb a ladder to get into his house. And another to get into his bed. As he climbed, lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a roar of thunder that shook the trees. Link frowned as he looked up, knowing that there was a fair chance his tall house could be struck by lightning. Well, he couldn't worry about that now. He reached the doorknob and quickly stepped inside the warm comfort of his home. The first thing to catch his eyes was the fire. He had only just gotten home, so someone else must have come over and made themselves comfortable. Who made it was the second thing he noticed.

"Oh, Link! I was wondering when you'd be home."

A pretty young woman with short blond hair sat in the middle of Link's home. She wore a simple white tunic and brown pants, with a pouch tied to her leg. She was young, perhaps eighteen or so, and she held a pleasant, cheerful, look on her face. About her neck was a small, well-carved, wooden locket that Link had given to her for her eighteenth birthday.

"Ilia? What are you doing here?" Link asked, surprised to see his friend here. She looked up at him and smiled warmly, before shaking her head and putting on an exasperated expression.

"Well I had just come over to drop off Epona's horse call that you left at my house, AGAIN. I swear Link, whether you're just delivering a letter or helping my dad work, somehow, this thing always seems to wind up on the floor of my house."

"Uhh...Whoops?"

"But it started raining so heavily outside so quickly I kinda just bunkered down in here. Hope you don't mind." As she said this, she was absentmindedly turning something over and over in her hands, staring intently at it.

"Well," Link began as he tore a soaked headband off and hung it up on a rack to dry, "As long as you don't set the house on fire, I think I can live." No sooner had he put his headband up, that he noticed the object in Ilia's hand. It was quite small and he couldn't see it clearly, but he did notice a slight red glow coming from her hands. Link sat down next to Ilia to better examine it. "What do you have there?"

Ilia, who seemed to be intently examining the piece, snapped her head up to look at Link like she didn't notice he had walked in the room. "Oh, you must see it, Link, I found this in the mud outside your house, it looks just like some kind of shard of metal, but do you see how it glows like that? It's so pretty..."

Link frowned, he had never seen anything like it before. It looked like steel, but he had never seen steel that glowed. He briefly considered it being the firelight, but it was not a bright orange and yellow, but rather a dull blood red glow. He looked over it a few seconds before he moved over and took it gently from Ilia's hands.

The moment his hands touched the metal shard, Link knew something was very wrong here. An inexplicable cold shot through him at that moment, accompanied by a fear of some nameless evil. It produced thoughts of anger and uncontrollable hatred that was not directed at any one thing, but perhaps all living things. the feeling he got from this was frighteningly familiar. It was as if he was once again looking into Ganondorf's evil eyes for the first time. He inhaled sharply as he nearly dropped it after grabbing it, but he had only held it for a split second.

"Give it back!" Ilia shrieked at the top of her lungs, all but tackling link as she snatched the metal piece away from him. "Don't touch it!

"Ilia! What the-!?" Link exclaimed as he tumbled to the the floor. Noticing the anger and rage in her voice, he became very confused. "Ilia! Calm down!" Link pleaded, getting back on his feet. But somehow, Link knew with a dreadful certainty, there was no possibility of that happening..

"You want it don't you! It's mine, not yours! I won't let you have it! You won't lay one filthy finger on it! If you want it, you have to take it from my lifeless corpse!" Ilia was shrieking madly at the top of her lungs. Outside, the rain and lightning seemed to intensify tenfold at her burst of anger. Link was taken aback. Ilia, had never once in all of her interaction with Link, spoken like that. It was as if she was an entirely different person. Link opened his mouth, but couldn't find any words to say. Especially not when she looked at him. The whole time of this outburst, her eyes had been to the floor, now they stared directly into Link's blue eyes, which was filled with concern and fear for his friend. Her eyes were completely white, no pretty blue color, no black pupil, just white, and filled with intense hatred and rage.

"My goddesses Ilia...what has happened to you?" Link muttered numbly. He could hardly believe what had just transpired. Link's mind was completely numb with the shock of what was happening. It was at that moment that Ilia did something Link could never imagine her doing. She attacked him.

Grabbing the closest thing resembling a weapon, which was Link's wood-carving knife at the wall, she lunged madly at the man who tried to take away her precious shard. Link jumped to the side and let Ilia charge past him, before raising his hands up before him in a pleading manner. "Please! Ilia, listen to me! You're not yourself!" But it was in vain, as Ilia again rushed him, bringing the knife down over her head to strike at Link. Link was, without a doubt, the far superior fighter, but, after all, he didn't want to hurt her. He grabbed her wrist before she could complete the attack, and moved to disarm her of the weapon. What Ilia lacked in any skill she made up for in sheer tenacity. Using her free hand and her legs, she slapped, punched, clawed, kicked, scratched, shoved, and even bit, Link. Link however, was not halted by the furious onslaught, and, placing one foot solidly against her stomach, kicked outward, shoving her away.

Ilia stumbled backward into a wooden table and fell into it, the furniture collapsing under the sudden impact. But like some enraged wolverine, she got up and again lunged at Link. This time Link grabbed her wrist and pulled her past him, getting Link behind Ilia. Using his free hand he struck her knuckles firmly, sending the knife flying from her hands, but if he thought getting rid of the weapon would stop her, he was wrong. Again, she turned around and ferociously attacked him with her bare hands and feet, kicking and punching and clawing, all the while, screaming like some kind of madwoman.

"Stop it Ilia, please!" he pleaded, but it was to no avail, as she continued her maddened attack. Seeing no other way to end this, Link used a technique Ashei had taught him on how to incapacitate someone without killing them. He shoved Ilia backwards, knocking her off balance, and while she tried to steady herself, he took his hand and firmly struck Ilia on the side of the neck. With a slight gasp, Ilia fell unconscious, the metal shard she fought with Link over clattered onto the floor. Link caught her before she hit the ground, Then he slowly lowered her to the floor, still keeping her in his arms He paused as he examined the young woman for injury. She had a slight cut from stumbling into the table, but other than that seemed to be in okay condition.

Physically, anyways.

"Ilia, what happened to you? What possessed you to do that?" He spoke to the unconscious young woman as he cradled her in his arms. It was then his eyes fell upon the metal shard that lay on the floor. "Was all this really just for some small metal shard?" He looked back and forth between Ilia and the shard in increasing understanding. He gently laid Ilia's head to rest on the wooden floor and walked over to the metal shard. It was still flaring a blood red glow. Link stared at it intently for a few moments, before grasping it in his hand. The familiar surge of fear and projection of incredible hatred surged through him. He felt a powerful urge to smash his fist into the wall or a table, but he slowly brought it under control. He battled the increasing rage inside him. As the anger that coursed through him was slowly brought under his control, the shard gave off a new feeling.

The aura of the shard coursed up his arm, and with it, a burning pain, like his arm was being pierced by white-hot knives. Link screamed in surprise and pain, but he didn't drop the piece. The aura coursed up his arm and to his head, where the pain became almost unbearable. But then, suddenly, the pain disappeared, to be replaced by calm and silence, and then, a hushed whisper.

"Souls...complete...need..."

Link's head snapped up as he whipped his view around his home, but there was no one there. It was then, with a certainty he could not explain, that he knew the shard was speaking to him. Link's eye narrowed as he intently listened to the whispers, growing stronger in fervor.

"What...do you want?" Link spoke silently to the shard. There was no way to be prepared for what happened next.

Link's eyelids grew heavy, and he closed them for a second. When he opened them, he was no longer in his house. He was somewhere else. In a land scorched and blackened. The very earth appeared dead. The sky was a blood red and black, and appeared to be on fire at times. Smoke rose from the ground, and every now and then, from the dead earth, flames would shoot up to lick the putrid air. Link covered his nose as everything smelled of ash and...something else. There was virtually nothing in this dead and cursed place. Whispers. Constant whispers filled the air, whispers of pain, of anger, of sorrow and despair...

Off in the distance Link could see two warriors battling in this hellish land void of life, and Link, grateful to see some sign of life, rushed towards it. He saw two warriors, wielding weapons so radically different from one another that it would have been akin to light fighting darkness. The one warrior, covered in azure armor, wielded a fearsome blade. Steel, which seemed to have a red, flesh-like substance, and blood, forged into it. Near the hilt, a single, bright, demonic eye gazed upon its opponent. Link could feel a powerful hatred and blood lust emitting from this warrior. His opponent, a young woman, wielding a bright blue and white sword, which the blade was split down the middle battled the fearsome enemy. Her weapon flared upon each collision with the armored fiend's weapon, emitting a soothing pure light.

The warriors then faded away, to be replaced with the blade wielded by the azure-armored knight jutting out of the ground directly in front of Link. Link went cold looking at this blade. It radiated evil from its very core. Hatred, rage, and an unending thirst for souls filled the area. Link immediately realized he wanted nothing to do with this weapon. Turning away, a dis-embodied voice spoke to him.

"Give it...give it to me..."

The shard Link still held in his hand vibrated harshly as Link continued to step away from the sword. Link turned again, he had no desire to oblige that evil weapon. He cast one look back and saw the eye of the blade open wide, this time, not just a yellow color, but flames occasionally danced out of its pupil.

"I MUST BE COMPLETE!"

The flames shot out of the eye and engulfed Link. He screamed in pain, he had never felt anything like this before! The pain lasted for what seemed an eternity before he faded into a black land of nothingness.

Link's eyes snapped open as he awoke. "What happened?" He asked himself, gazing around and looking out the window. Then the memories came back to him in a rush. Link looked down at his hand to see the shard. It was no longer flaring an aura, just glowing a very faint red color. Link closed his hand around it, then slipped it into his pocket. It was then that he noticed it was no longer raining outside. The moon was high in the night sky, and the storm clouds had long since dispersed. He wondered how long he had been out, but he knew now was not the time to think about this. He picked Ilia up in his arms and carried her to her father's house. After explaining what happened to Ilia, Link stayed by her side til she awoke.

But Ilia never woke up. She was alive, but she would not wake up. Link didn't even need to ask what to do. Somehow, deep within his soul, he knew, he needed to break the evil of this shard and the sword it was once a part of.

The next day he saddled up Epona and headed for Hyrule Castle to talk to Princess Zelda. If anyone, she would know what happened. She listened solemnly to Link's story, and at the end of it, she nodded solemnly. "Link, I too, have seen a vision. You will leave these lands with the sacred sword in hand, and you will do battle with the coming darkness that will soon pervade the lands of Hyrule. You must take the sword up from it's resting place." She sighed sadly, "I wish such a task did not again have to fall to you, but I feel that you are the only one which can do this."

Link sighed, "But how do I find the cursed sword?"

Zelda pointed to the small pouch at Link's belt, "That shard you hold was once part of that cursed sword. It will lead you to it."

Link, silently nodded and looked at Zelda. Then he turned quietly to leave.

"Link..."

He stopped at hearing his name.


"Be careful. In this journey you may be confronted with your own darkness. You must stand strong against it. If you fall..." She looked at him sadly, "We all fall."

Link stared at her in silence, taking in the full extent of her words, then turned and walked out of the room.

"Good luck Link, the Goddesses favor you."

Link snapped out of his past memories. He was here, in the sacred grove. His eyes surveyed this area as he recalled within his trip to the distant past in the Temple of Time, that this used to be a temple, long since weathered away. The only remains of it were the Master Sword, which stood proudly in the middle of the grove, and the pedestal it rested on. Light tumbled down through the canopy overhead to rest on the Blade of Evil's Bane. Taking in the beauty of this sight one last time, he then grasped the Master Sword around the hilt and lifted it free of its resting place. The Master Sword pulsed lightly several times within Link's hand in recognition of its master, then the weapon let loose a faint blue glow which quickly faded away. The Master Sword was again in Link's hands.

Link was not entirely sure how he knew what to do, but then took his weapon, and struck it back into the pedestal where he first brought forth from, and withdrew it again. The mark of the Triforce in the pedestal resonated, and Link felt the shard of the cursed blade in his belt-pouch resonating as well. Seeing this and know it would lead him to where to find the blade, he brought the shard forth. Grasping it burned his hand in its evil aura, but as he brought it forth, it bathed in the glow of the Master Sword's pedestal. The blood red aura of the shard clashed with the pure blue aura of the sword and the golden light coming from the pedestal. A bright flash of white light, and when Link could see clearly, he gazed at his route to his new adventure.

Where the Master Sword's pedestal once stood, now there was blue rippling field of energy. This was it. Once he stepped through here, his great new adventure would begin. He would face a new world, with new challenges and new enemies. Nonetheless, he would return triumphant. He returned the shard to his belt-pouch, and sheathed the Master Sword. This was going to be his first step into this new place. Link took a deep breath, said a silent goodbye to his homeland, and with a powerful new fire in his eyes, stepped into the portal.

Transcending History and the World, A Tale of Souls and Swords, Eternally Retold.