Author's Note: This is my interpretation of the Legend of Zelda universe. I wanted to go for a more adult setting , and if their world is anything like ours, racism will always play a role. I wanted to write a story set in Hyrule's distant past, that spans up until the events of Majora's Mask. I hope you like it, and reviews are ALWAYS appreciated!
A Nation Born of Fire
By Terminian
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.
"BY THE GODDESSES" The clay pitcher of wine smashed against the stone wall of the banquet hall, sending rivers of red cascading down to the floor. The King of the tribes of Hylia stood, facing the messenger, his face as red as the wine. He held the written communique` tightly in his left hand, wrinkling it. "You mean to tell me that they've sacked yet another garrison?" He growled.
The young messenger winced at the question, knowing very well that's exactly what the message said. Even if he hadn't read it, he had seen the carnage with his own eyes. "Y...yes your highness, not a soul survived."
King Rex Nohansen Hyrule was silent for a moment. Finally, his voice subdued, he asked, "Are they sure it was Terminus' men? This couldn't have been the work of the Gorons?"
The messenger began to speak but a chill wind suddenly blew. The candles lighting the hall flickered and dimmed for a moment, only to return to their steady, yellow glow.
From the shadows a voice spoke to the king. "We found no evidence of the Gorons, your Highness. Our sentries along the river saw no sign of incursion from their mountain fortress." Nohansen turned to the shadow and sighed.
"Terek, must you always make such an entrance?" Out of the darkness stepped a figure cloaked in black. His hair was a steely silver, his eyes, supported by high, pale cheek bones, were the red crimson so ominously associated with the Sheikah, the Shadow Folk. The royal messenger looked on in disbelief, since very few Hylians had seen a Sheikah, even after they had pledged their loyalty to the Crown.
Seemingly ignoring the king, the man went on. "They would have raised the keep to the ground, instead we found supplies taken; food, weapons, horses. And," He said, licking his lips, as if tasting the evidence he was about to present, "we found no Human slaves among the dead."
Nohansen bowed his head. "Then, indeed, it was Terminus and his band of filthy outlaws."
"We were given no warning by those prisoners we currently hold in..." But Rex lifted a hand to silence Terek, and pointed to the messenger.
"You." He growled tersely. "You're dismissed." The messenger turned to leave. "Do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone what you witnessed there. The official report will say the Gorons perpetrated the massacre." The royal messenger looked confused at his king. Rex snorted and waved him off. "Just do it!" The man beat a hot retreat from the dining hall, leaving the king alone with his adjunct.
Turning to Terek, he sighed. "I've asked you before not to speak of the dealings going on within that accursed place. It would be damaging to the crown, you fool." He sneered. Terek simply gazed back, unaffected.
"But of course, my liege." He bowed slightly. "But, as I said before, the men we have in our custody have been less than helpful. They are tight lipped, even given the... methods," His mouth twisted into a evil smile, "we've employed."
The king picked up his serving knife, and traced the area on a map lying next to his unfinished meal, where the army encampment had been. Near where the river meets the entrance to the desert, near an outcropping of red rock, one of his lieutenants thought it an important choke point to hold.
"Fools! Building the garrison so near the Garanda," He used to the word, human for homeland, with a vile tone. "They should have had sentries both day and night watching that godforsaken place." He jammed the knife into the heart of what was known in Hylian lore to be the birthplace of humanity, the western desert. "Like rats, they crawl out of their nest, to steal, to pillage, then they flee back to safety."
"Calling them rats, my Lord, is giving them too much credit." Terek hissed. The king nodded, not looking up. "They do not even believe in the Goddesses, the ones who gave them being. This lot in life, they have claimed it for themselves through their blasphemy."
The king knew well enough the religious tendencies of most human slaves. It was not five harvests before that he had had a group of them rounded up, near the river that flowed by the Castle, and massacred the lot of them for their vocal belief that the legend of the Goddesses creation was nothing but myth, and that the crown perpetuated it to keep the other races subdued. The vile rhetoric was enough to make him sick, and the king turned away from the map.
He eyed Terek, the Warden of the crown's most terrible secret. He was chief Shiekah advisor to the king, and was head priest of the Shiekah tribe's most sacred temple, the Shadow Temple. The Hylian royalty had long ago reached an agreement with the Shadow Folk, most skilled in the art of interrogation and infiltration, that all the enemies of the crown would be sent to the prison built into the upper levels of the temple, to be subjected to all manner of terrible acts, until they at last gave up their secrets.
"Terminus cannot be allowed to continue his attacks unimpeded." The king said.
Terek nodded. "He believes the 'slaughtering of the heretics' was the last straw, my Lord. His men, his agent provocateurs, they have sown discontent among the human slaves, and roam without fear of reprisal within the free human ghettos and settlements."
The King looked indignant. "I was doing what had to be done; an attack on our beliefs, the most sacred of our vows, is more frightening than an attack on this crown." He said, tipping his head, the ruby studded headdress glittering in the soft light.
"But my lord, your men have lost every engagement with Terminus and his band of armed thugs. Their skill with the blade outstrips every Hylian soldier under your command, except..." Terek said, trailing off.
The King looked sharply at his advisor, impatience in his voice. "Get on with it!" Terek nodded politely.
"Let me offer you the services of my personal guard. They will root out the vermin." Rex stood quietly for a time.
"Nonsense!" The King laughed. "Your leaders, the elders of the Shadow Folk tribe; The compact they signed pledged that their warriors would never be used to fight a war for the crown, only to guard it's royal family members." He sighed and turned to the map, studying it as if it would review a secret it had been keeping all along. "There's no way that I could command a regiment of Shadow Warriors to go after one man, one human."
Terek quickly agreed. "Of course, your highness! But isn't this insurgency a threat to the crown? Why, if the resistance is allowed to grow, you yourself could be threatened!"
The king slammed a clenched fist into the table. "That's preposterous!" His meaty finger was pointed in Terek's face as his own turned red. "It's one thing for Terminus to win engagements, skirmishes; it is quite another to even entertain the idea that he could successfully battle his way into my keep, to take from me by force that which he does not deserve by right."
Terek was silent, knowing he had inadvertently insulted the monarch, but he knew he had gotten his message across. The king began to calm, his head lowering, his voice equally so. "These guards of yours, they would be sworn to secrecy?"
Terek bowed in agreement. The King sighed, and looked back at the map, the dagger thrust into the heart of the human homeland, a place Farore herself had forsaken. He quietly muttered, "Then be done with it."