Genre: it's going to be a bumpy ride, folks.

Status: In-progess, multi-chapter

Rating: M for Mature

Pairing: Link/Sheik (YAOI)

Author's Notes:

This is what happens when I mix Legend of Zelda and Dark Souls, while listening to Woodkid.

I have not posted this under crossovers because it isn't really. This doesn't follow any game in particular so I guess it would be considered AU, although it's based on a different iteration of Ocarina of Time. I was inspired by the lore of Dark Souls and decided it fit nicely with the kind of story I am trying to tell. You don't need to have played or know anything about it to understand the plot, and the characters and most locations are purely LoZ. What you will see are ideas, artistic liberties, and what I hope to be a pretty awesome fusion which leads to happy readers. :)

Oh, and no Sheik gender talk, please. He is male here and a separate character from Zelda entirely aaand yes I have played OoT. Many times.

Disclaimer:

I do not own the Legend of Zelda or Dark Souls. I make no money off of this, however this story and anything original came from alcohol-induced nights inside my own head.

Please enjoy!

Epitafium

There is a place, far beyond where many of us go. A place where legends live and breathe; where heroes, princesses, and evil kings are born and die throughout its passage of time.

You may have heard of Hyrule, its glistening fields of fairytale. Where good conquers evil.. where there is no grey - you either fight for the Goddesses, or perish by the blade of their creation.

This story isn't about that Hyrule.

This story begins in a small clearing of no importance. There is no light falling from the sky onto the leafless trees in this forsaken forest. The fairies have long gone. The air is still and smells heavy of death; and what were once the children of this place are now forever entombed in the rotten branches that twist this way and that from the earth.

And in the distance a campfire is lit near a murky swamp; a lone figure seated beside it on a large rock. His body is weary and moves not, his head resting in his hands, deep in thought. The armor he wears has been cast aside, his form freed of the heavy weight he must carry, for a time. A hood covers most of his face, and only lips - once gentle and soft, now hardened and in a permanent frown - are visible in the firelight. His sword is not far away, its hilt a mere centimeters from his grasp. Even while resting he must be on guard, for the unseen is sometimes more terrifying than the creatures that he can hear stepping, just now, through the tall grass.

His blue eyes peer to the left, and Link rises slowly as the pack of hungry, decaying Wolfos creep closer. He makes no sound as he grabs his sword, and unafraid, he heads toward them. He takes one out as another jumps onto his chest, its teeth burying into the fabric of his tunic. Blood drips downward as he rips the beast from his form with his right hand, and he finishes that one off too before clutching the wounded area. He curses under his breath and spots two more Wolfos coming his way, which he lances with the tip of his sword, skewering the foul creatures until they move no more.

Their blood is black as he studies his blade before wiping it against the tall, dead grass. He clutches his chest again, the bleeding having ceased none, and he notices his vision swaying.. the moon beneath the darkened clouds dimming and flickering in the distance. Link feels he may pass out. His knees give way and he falls to them on the moistened ground, his left hand reaching out to steady himself.

"Goddesses," he murmurs to the sky, "why have you failed me?" And after those last words, he succumbs to the horizontal plane, body limp and bloodied. The sky feels so far away now, he thinks to himself, as he reaches a hand to the stars. He thinks he may have seen a glimmer just then, perhaps a goddess in the sky taking pity on him. He scowls as he realizes its absurdity, for no one would pity a fallen hero.

Link was born about twenty-five years ago, but he can only remember maybe twenty of them clearly. He remembers not the location or to whom he was born from, only that he was alone in this world. His earliest memory is that of the Temple of Time and its clerics, and one most importantly named Hildie who supplied him food, a bed, and the basics of human interaction. She gave him a shortsword at the age of ten, telling him not to kill himself with it. She would have trained him in magics, she said, but decided against it when Link took a liking to the dark arts rather than miracles like healing or protection. Pyromancy, he found, was very pretty when added to the tip of an arrow.

The first day he was allowed outside was during the last month of his ten years. He was instructed to hide behind Hildie and another named Geralt, as they ran to the market for food. The clearest thing he remembers from that occasion was passing by a burning cart, five ReDead and screaming children. By the time he and his guardians had retrieved whatever food was left in the destroyed shops, the screaming had stopped and that was the first time Link learned about death. Geralt was bitten through his calf on the way as well, and his moaning could be heard throughout the halls of the temple until that too, ended not long after. He was never seen again. Hildie cried and the rest of the clerics prayed and prayed, while Link sat in the back saying to himself, 'I will never end up like Geralt. I will survive.'

He learned that the world was a scary place, that monsters were everywhere and people died, a lot. He learned that the Goddesses - Din, Nayru, and Farore - beings who were once worshipped were responsible for the destruction of Hyrule. That they were angry and unleashed a terrible power. The sages too, the sages were now creatures of the most powerful darkness and if one were to encounter them, it would surely mean death. There was no way, he was told, to banish them or to kill them. And to attempt it, would mean traversing inside their hollowed temples and dungeons where they locked themselves away, which no man has ever entered and survived.

So all who were left alive lived in fear, because there were more monsters out there than people. Good people.

Near his thirteenth year, the Temple of Time was invaded by a horde of Moblins. Moblins were once people, said to be experimented upon by the royal family and turned into terrible creatures that now resemble grotesque ogres. Relentless and stupid, they are, with no concept anymore for human life. Hundreds of them rushed through the halls, and many clerics died. Link ran through the corridors with his battered shortsword, slicing the Moblins in half. That was the first time he felt blood upon his skin. He stopped for a moment in the chaos, transfixed by it. How blood could be such an unnatural color.. he wondered if all blood looked the same.

He heard Hildie crying from somewhere in the distance, and Link ran to her, as fast as his feet could carry him. Torches were thrown through the broken windows that had caught fire to the tapestries and wooden beams. He found her lying then on the marbled ground, and he killed the Moblins surrounding her that had been eating her alive. With all the strength she had remaining, she reached up to Link's face and touched his cheek. 'Go, Link,' she said, 'get out of here. You have to.. you have to stop all this death.' And with her last breath she cried, 'take this!' and handed him an elaborate key. He held her in his arms as she yelled, a terrible yell, and he watched the life pass from her eyes as she left the world most painfully.

He touched her lips and her blood there coated his fingertips, and he rubbed the liquid between them, smearing it into his hand. He looked at it, and felt a surge of anger like no other, and with this anger he killed every Moblin remaining.

Everyone was dead.

With the temple burning from the inside out, he raced through the passageways using the key he received on every chest, every door. A particularly dry wooden chest sparked from the flames and then exploded, knocking Link into a wall and onto the ground forcibly. He winced at the sudden pain he felt, his tiny body cracking from the impact. He stood, growling, and limped onward, until he found a ladder leading down. He followed this into the damp basement, where he found an old but decorative chest hidden underneath a pile of beaten up helms and spears. They key worked and inside the chest was a large sword, a shield, a bottle with something inside, and a compass. He was too delirious to care about what any of it meant, and he scooped it all up into his arms and took off running.

It was there, in a corner of the darkened basement of the Temple of Time, that Link sat huddled, shaking. It was there that he gained his courage. It was there that he discovered his destiny.

He barely survived into his late teens. Food was scarce outside of the market that he had known for his short time on this earth. Into the fields, it was a barren wasteland and undead skeletons roamed the perpetual night. He took comfort at a ranch he discovered in the center of it all, where he was taken in for a time by its owner Talon and his daughter, Malon, a girl with the brightest red hair and sunny disposition. Here, until about sixteen, he helped refine and imbue weapons, even forging some by Talon's side. Malon would bring Link whiskey-spiked milk in secret, which he enjoyed and made the time pass by quickly. They became quick friends (even though she did most of the talking) and spent every moment together that Link had to himself. He would practice with heavier weapons and the great sword he retrieved from the temple years ago under the moonlight, slashing at large logs Malon would set up for him around the sparce pasture. She would cheer him on, clapping and teasing him about his forming physique.

Almost a year later they ended up sleeping together in the barn, with Malon confessing her love for him afterwards in post-orgasmic sobs. He felt nothing.. and he apologized for his battered heart. 'I don't know how to love,' he whispered to her, holding her close. 'You're afraid to love,' she replied into his ear, 'come back to me when you've grown up.'

And on a night almost six months later, an armored giant with a cape made of tapestries from Hyrule Castle stormed the ranch's gates, followed by a swarm of flaming Keese. The rain pouring down from the sky did little to extinguish the bat's flaming bodies, and they swooped and set fire to the hay in the barn, setting it ablaze. Talon ran out with Malon not far behind, and in a very unwise decision, he stood before the giant with his arms spread wide, yelling brave insults to the creature who could understand it none. Link ran to the father, 'Get out of the way!' he screamed. He tried to shove Talon to the side, but to no avail. The large iron hammer came down swiftly, and under it Talon's broken form lay cemented in the wet earth; crumpled and twitching. Malon cried and ran to his battered body, falling beside him, but Link quickly caught her and held her in his arms. From between the wet golden locks that stuck to forehead and cheeks, his eyes pleaded with her.

He shook her. 'Run,' he said.

She mouthed what looked like no, and aloud she said, 'Take me with you!'. He had no time to respond as the giant swung at them, and with the girl in his arms, Link jumped to the side and rolled to the ground. The rage in his face then as he stood, sword brandished, was like no other. He swung at the massive beast, sliced at its weakest point near an unarmored joint on the legs. He hacked away at the flesh exposed there, his sword finally slicing through bone; severing the limb in two. The giant fell to the other leg, and Link continued the assault until his enemy had no legs to stand on. He ran to it and grabbed the massive helm covering the giant's face, and he lifted the front plate. Link looked the beast in the eyes, and lifted his sword high, then in a downward thrust he sent the blade through its skull.

On the last remaining horse, he placed Malon atop it, and told her to ride to the south - far away from Hyrule Castle. 'How far?' she asked. She grabbed for his hand. 'As far as you can go,' he replied. Her fingers brushed his own, come hither touches, begging. 'Come with me?' she pleaded. He sighed, saddened. 'I can't save everyone, Malon.' She shook her head ferociously. 'But you saved me!" she cried. He grasped her hands now with both of his own, and he looked sternly into her eyes. 'No. Don't ever, ever think you're safe.'

And with that he urged the horse to move, and it took off quickly to the field. Emblazoned in his memory is Malon's face, looking back at him as she grew smaller and smaller in the distance, her red hair like fire dancing around her head in the wind. He felt a strange sense of relief as she disappeared over the hills, for he knew he could never give her what she wanted.

He lived alone until his nineteenth year, making a living off bounty boards placed throughout small retreats set up across the land. Sometimes he'd make rupees for escorting caravans into somewhat safer areas, other times he'd receive food for protecting a family for the night from wild beasts. He honed his skills with archery and continued to attune pyromancy or even poison to the tips, firing off at enemies from great distances. He became known as Flame Wielder by some, and it would be a lie to think most weren't a bit terrified of him. With his golden messy hair and handsome brows, icy blue eyes, and moonlight skin due to the consistent darkened skies, he was like an angel to some, and maybe a demon to others. Many probably couldn't even recall his name, because he told it to hardly anyone. Yet he never harmed the undeserving - and that is probably why most would opt to stay on his good side.

It was near the dried up basin of Lake Hylia that he came across a large collection of books and texts in an abandoned building that someone had left in a hurry. Other than giant spiders feeding outside, he saw no other threats in the area, and he decided to stay for a while. Here he made a home in solitude and did his best at reading about the goddesses and sages of Hyrule. His finger followed every word, and he mouthed out most he didn't know for practice. He discovered the locations of all the temples and learned every name, their powers, their weaknesses. He plotted out a map and made a list of them all and how he was going to destroy them. He kept it there, on the desk, and he became obsessed with it - it accompanied his every thought, every dream. He saw Hildie's ripped apart flesh and heard her screams in his mind.. he thought of Malon, her father's mutilated body in the dirt, he thought of every person he had met in his life so far, and vowed to avenge or protect them.

It consumed him, and because of it, he became stronger, wilder.

At twenty-two he packed up what he could and headed east, for a long trek to the hidden forests. The Forest Temple beckoned him. Along the way he fought many strong foes, one in particular with leaves as sharp as blades that nearly took his left eye. With no protection during the long nights, he hardly slept, and with practically nothing to eat, he thought sometimes he may starve. Each day became longer as he moved slower, famished. But he killed and killed anything that came across his path.

It was through the overgrown paths in what was once Kokiri Forest, that he slayed a human being. The armored knight rushed at him through the thorny trees yelling, mace extended, crazed. Link brought up his shield as the man pounded away, the morning star tip making small dents all across the adorned metal. 'I'm human!' Link had yelled, and he had Link almost to the ground, shield still up, blocking his head now from the attacks. His right arm felt as if it would give way at any moment, so he thrust his sword from beneath him and up. It jabbed into the knight's groin, and the man dropped his mace, stumbling backwards. 'Monster!' the man had yelled, and Link remained guarded, terrified yet stoic. How quick death is for some, he watched as the man stumbled to the ground, silent. He removed the man's helm and looked at the face underneath. His skin was rotted, purple and gray.

What is human, anymore.. he thought. If that is human, what am I?

He spent days wandering the forest, delusional, muttering. And that is when he ended up near a tiny swamp with a campfire and nothing to him but armor, flesh, and bones. With the Wolfos' corpses beside him as he lay defeated on the earth, he speaks aloud with weighted breath.

"I will make you pay," he says, and he looks at his own blood pooling on his chest - red, like fire, a beating heart, a scarlet promise.

There is a sacred place inside what used to be the Zora people's place of refuge, where the water still runs clear from some unknown source. It is here that the Company of Shadow reside within an arched temple named the Shrine of Nayru. Long ago the Sheikah, a tribe of agile warriors gave their very souls to the Royal Family of Hyrule, offering them their protection and guidance. Few remain to this day, but those that have hidden from the dangers of the outside world maintain an optimistic view of the Goddesses, even in such times. They vow to bring justice and honor back to the Royal Family's name, and clear the tainted thoughts of the supreme deities and sages. This isn't to say they are always good, for they will not spare the life of one who bears ill intent - intent against their beliefs. And those that they do kill, the very soul of the victim, is offered to the three Goddesses, just as the Sheikah's souls were offered, ages ago.

A young male Sheikah in his mid-twenties stares at the lifelike statue of Nayru in front of him. He speaks none, his carmine colored eyes intent on the figure. He stands, stretching, taking his slightly long blonde hair into his hands, twisting three pieces together in a messy braid. Sheik, as he is called, is pretty but strong, with equal parts delicate features and masculine form. His one downfall may be his height, or possibly his lack of empathy, depending on who you ask.

Back when he was a child, he would run with a dagger in his hand through the fields, slaying the skeletons most would cower in fear from. He never gave it a second thought. His mother, Impa, would tell him to fight only those who are deserving of it, but he felt as they staggered towards him with fire in their eyes, that they were. One day, a group of men attacked the Company, killing a Sheikah woman, and Sheik rushed upon them, slicing their necks from behind with a bent scimitar. He proudly offered their souls to Nayru that very night. 'I hate men,' he had said to Impa then, and she raised her eyebrows questioningly. 'Do you? And what of women?' she asked. Sheik had shrugged and responded in his lyrical voice, 'I have only seen men display unloyalties.'

His childish affirmation was up for debate however when the Company was asked to offer healing miracles, Sheikah made weaponry, and other goods for travelers passing through the Shrine. As he stood alongside his brethren as a teen, a young Hylian female made eye contact with him, and proceeded to strike up conversation. She could only see his eyes, for half of his face was covered with a white cowl, but nevertheless she stared mesmerized by the ruby-like irises set behind long lashes. Turned out this girl held a title of some importance and Sheik was made to entertain her throughout the night. When she pulled down his cowl and kissed his lips, drunk off a Sheikah made wine, it made his stomach crawl. When asked what was wrong he simply replied, 'I don't like you,' and when asked why he stated, 'I don't like people.'

One such role a Sheikah must also provide is guidance and their skill in combat to warriors passing through Hyrule. Once one of their white wrappings from their armor was unwoven and tied on a tree branch or fastened to a passageway or the like, anyone with equal fighting proficiency who found it would be able to summon said Sheikah to their side. One of Sheik's best friends died that way, assisting a Hylian warrior through the scalding desert wasteland. Days, weeks, months passed without a sign of a her and the body was never found.

Closure never came.

He became closed off, and when heretics invaded the Shrine bent on destroying the goddesses and the sages, he slayed them all. Every last one of them. His family and other members of the Company stood back shaken, some in awe and others in fear at the raw power Sheik was able to manifest. But through what? Hatred? Physical weapons weren't enough anymore, so he began learning and practicing hexes, his favorite being a dark fog that would let him disappear from sight and leave the area clouded in poisonous fumes.

Consumed with thoughts of bringing justice to the unloyal, he decided the only way to cleanse this earth was to obtain every soul that deserved purging. These he would offer to the Goddesses, so their strength may be rekindled and the darkness would lift from the land.

To Nayru he prayed, and through her voice she explained to him the souls he must collect. Small ones from lesser beings, larger ones from men. Giant souls from the temple guardians, and lastly, the soul from an unknown hero. 'Give them to me,' she cooed. And Sheik bowed gracefully before her stone likeness. 'Yes, my Goddess. It shall be done.'

When the red-headed Hylian girl came pounding through the Shrine's passageway on horseback, the Company lifted their spears, blocking her entrance. She looked unwell - hair matted and skin a deathly pallor. As she dislodged herself from the saddle, the horse gave way, obviously dehydrated and starving. She quickly knelt beside her companion, and glared up to face those who blocked her path. 'I am just a young girl. My family is dead. It is only me that comes this way,' she said, then motioned to her poor steed, 'and my equine friend.'

Sheik watched from a distance as the leader of the Company of Shadows came forth, and he listened with trained ears to the conversation. Once she was determined no threat and allowed to continue through, Sheik made his way to her, curiously.

He had overheard her speak of the terrible incident at the ranch at whence she came from, how her father had been brutally smashed to a pulp under a giant's hammer. 'How did you manage to escape?' he asked her and she glanced at him, looking him over thoughtfully. She searched his eyes. 'I had help,' she answered quietly. And so she told him animatedly of the roguish Hylian with sand-colored hair, and how he led her to safety. 'What was his name?' Sheik had asked, and she pondered for a while. 'You know,' she answered after a moment, 'he never told me.'

So it is front of the statue of Nayru that Sheik had been since his discussion with the ranch girl, and for a long while he had sat there.. with a nagging suspicion and a plan brewing in his brain.

"Nayru," he begins quietly, "I set forth tomorrow to finish the task you have given to me."

A soft sigh echoes through the air, a voice barely audible. "How do you intend to slay so many powerful and wicked souls.. all by yourself?"

Sheik bows his head. "With help," he trails, "from an unknown hero."