Chapter One: Darkness

It was hot.

The thick layers of pitch black cloud that rolled overhead trapped the heat between themselves and the surface of the world, causing puddles and lakes to dry up, never to refill even when the monsoons came and washed away the dust and blood that stained the ground.

The withered trees and plants wavered pathetically as people brushed past, like beggar's hands outstretching and clutching to hems of frayed skirts and trousers, crying out for water, yet there was so little to spare, even among Hylians. There was so little of anything these days; water, food, plants, animals, sunlight. It had been over fifty years since sunlight had last graced the now dying lands of Hyrule, the new generations born with bleached, pallid skin that hung loosely about their skeletal like bodies from lack of nutrition, hollow containers living hollow existence.

Their eyes were often sunken into their sockets, dull, lifeless orbs peering out at the empty world that surrounded them from beneath lank hair that fluttered pathetically as they moved. Ragged cloth was wrapped around and draped over their forms to protect what little modesty that they had left, the colours from yesteryear all bleached and sullen, threads clearly seen holding what was left of the fabric together as they trudged wearily around the marketplace, staring with vacant expressions at empty stalls and shops windows. Faded red and yellow flags were strung up all over the town in an attempt to cheer up the populous for the week's celebratory competitions, but there was little to celebrate when your stomach ached for food and your hands and feet throbbed with pain.

Still, people gathered around the square that had been fenced off for today's event - the archery competition. Rumours had been going around the town that Hylians from all over had come to partake, or at least those who were strong enough to brave the wastelands, but that wasn't what had gotten most tongues wagging. It was the rumour that one of them was foreign.

That was what had attracted her, the ice skinned girl with the dark indigo hair who seemed ill at ease among the hoards of starving people, the rumour. She had travelled for days and nights to reach this place, just for this day, dirt and dust clinging to her faded garments and skin, only to be shaken off as she weaved with some difficulty in and out of the masses, making her way towards the arena.

"Where… Zsofia?" The voice whispered in her ear, crackled and incoherent, as if heard over a very long distance through a badly tuned radio. It sent shivers up her spine, although she had heard it before. No-one else in the crowd turned to acknowledge the voice - of course not, they hadn't heard it.

"I already told you." She replied, no louder then a low murmur so not to attract attention as her sharp amethyst eyes caught sight of the guards.

Monstrous things they were; clad all in thick, black metal from head to toe, blood splattered over them, the helms designed to hide their disfigured faces while their hands twitched at their sides, craving to take hold of the heavy swords by their sides and cleave an innocent passerby in two. Their bodies had begun to reflect their souls too - twisted and deformed, with diseased tumours and growths attached to them like parasites. Ferals, these ones were; big, bulky and strong.

The voice whined softly, empathising with her apprehension to talk around those things while also begging to be unleashed upon these horrors - these crimes against nature. But she restrained such urges, at least, for now. They could come in handy later, if things didn't go to plan.

The trumpets blasted loudly once, twice, three times, causing many of the more fragile in the crowd to quiver and shake as they turned their sickly gazes towards the centre, silence filling the air like thick smog.

Out into the dusty arena stepped two figures; one a hideously lanky guard, or a Snitch as they were commonly referred to, with the usual appearance of disproportionately long arms and legs and wide eyes reminiscent of saucers, the other was cloaked, the heavy hood pulled up and over his head, the shadows hiding all facial features.

'That must be him' Her mind went as she folded her arms, listening to the various murmurs that were filling the crowd around her.
"- they say he's foreign-", "- black eyes, claws for hands-", "- eats small children -", "- here to take our women -" and so on.

'What narrow minded bigots' But she couldn't help but have the slightest apprehension of fear about the stranger below her getting in place for their shot. Only Hylians were allowed to live in Hyrule by royal law. There hadn't been another species within the kingdom's boundaries for over eighty years. All those that had existed before such a decree had been dealt with swiftly, and without mercy.

The silence fell again as the Snitch drew back the string on his bow and released it straight into the heart of the target. The Ferals dotted in the crowds roared in satisfaction, banging their fists against their shields with primitive joy, causing the crowd to quiver even further, their breath still held. They knew what would happen if the Snitch were to lose.

It was the Stranger's turn now. The tension hung heavy, despite the Ferals jeers and insults towards the visitor, fear rising in the stands.

Time seemed to slow down now. It was almost as if you could catch every small, tiny detail. It took years for him to raise his bow and notch an arrow, slender fingers grasping and pulling back the feathered end, raising it higher until it was level with the hood, other arm outstretched, keeping the bow steady as he took his aim.

Release.

It took a few moments for the realisation to hit the audience, whose reaction went from suspenseful anxiety, to shock, and finally to terror.

The arrow had split the first right down the middle.

'Shit'

Then came the noise. The Snitch, furious that it's victory had been snatched away so suddenly, grabbed the back of the cloak concealing the stranger, and with a vicious yank, tore it away from his form, revealing a young man in his mid-twenties. His tanned skin stood out greatly in the sea of ghostly faces, flame red hair spiked back in defiance of the miserable norm while his gold eyes echoed the same message.

A murmur of fear reverberated through the crowd – even through Zsofia – upon his uncloaking. All the people here would have been taught in their youth that those outside Hyrule were nothing more than twisted, degrade creatures, with claws and horns and black hearts of coal, and now here one was, proud, unmoving… and he looked just like them; same body, same face, but same heart? Maybe.

"Kill it!" The call echoed through the rising panic that had started to grip the people. They started yelling, screaming, desperate to get away from the stranger and the Ferals who were advancing upon him, many trampling their own underfoot, stampeding like stupid sheep, bleating in fear.

"We have to get out of here." Zsofia mumbled, taking the easy option and climbing over the fence, albeit with a little difficulty. She could feel the splinters embed themselves into her skin, but she ignored them, landing quietly on the flagstone floor on the other side.

"You follow after him Alvar. Keep him safe." The ghostly blue face in front of her nodded with a concerned whine. "I'll be fine." She started walking off, in the direction of one of the abandoned parts of the town. She knew he wouldn't fail her.

The small Poe glanced after his mistress, quietly floating unnoticed. He hated being apart from her, almost as much as he hated being near her. It was an odd relationship. Still, he was bound to do as she said. He vanished, off to find the tanned-boy with the flame-hair.

He seemed to be having some trouble with the Ferals; three of them had jumped into the ring and started to advance on him, frothing at the mouth with a lustful glance in their eyes, almost as if they could smell the freshly spilt blood already.

"I get its head." The first one snarled, licking it's grotesque lips as the boy backed away, his golden eyes darting around, looking for some – any - way to escape this.

"If there's anything left of it." The second replied, its laugh more like that of a snarl as it gripped the hilt of its sword more tightly.

The Stranger brought up his bow, trying to stop them from advancing any further and to act as a warning, that if they got any closer, he would shoot, but all this achieved was another round of vicious roaring laughs. Why should they be scared of a wimpy little thing like that? It was three on one after all, and there was no way that pathetic thing he called a bow would ever be able to pierce their armour.

"Just try it and we'll rip you to shreds!"

"Yea-" The second Feral, however, cut himself short. The other two turned to look at him, confused about the sudden halt in his words, the confusion soon turning to surprise as blood started dripping beneath him, and his head fell backwards from his body. The remainder of it simply twitched and convulsed, blood pouring out of the neck before collapsing on the floor where it continued to judder and shake.

This was the Stranger's chance. Before any of them had time to recover from the sudden turn of events, he fired the arrow notched up in his bow blindly, before turning and sprinting away.

"OI!" The first roared, the arrow simply bouncing off the black armour his chest was bound in as he noticed the Stranger escaping by jumping over the fence. He wasn't going to get away that easily.

With an almighty bellow, the Feral gave chase, crashing straight through the fence with little effort. It was like breaking thin twigs to him. It would find the foreigner if it was the last thing that it did.

"GET BACK HERE!" The Stranger kept running though, his heart pounding loudly in his chest as the blood and adrenaline swept through his veins, the air brushing through his hair and across his face and chest, arrows rustling against each other in their quiver. He couldn't stop running; His life depended on getting out of this insane town alive. He ran through crowds, knocking against people who were trying to get away from the Feral just like he was, and he ran through houses, hoping that it would confuse the monstrous beast. He ran, and ran, and ran right into the slums, praying to the goddesses that there would be a hole, a chink in the defences in this area that he might be able to escape through.

It was a struggle now, his chest feeling tight from all the effort and his head dizzy from the need of oxygen that his body craved.

"Teehehehe!" He was brought to a sudden stop as a pale face appeared out of the blue with a wicked grin painted on. He staggered back, struggling to keep his expression placid and disturbed by how quickly this strange creature had appeared and its amusement at his shock.

It was odd. No bigger than a small child had it been standing on the floor, with a pale maya blue for skin and luminous yellow eyes that peered out from underneath an ocean blue fringe of ghostly hair and an Egyptian blue hood which trailed behind it with the consistency of water. A golden eye set into a purple button stared at him, causing a shiver to run up his spine as he wondered whether it was real, or whether he saw it blink or not was just an illusion.

"Lookie lookie!" The Poe chirped happily, face twisting into a smile, obviously pleased with itself.

"Who the hell are you?" The Stranger whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible. He didn't want to be found again, especially just after he had managed to lose the great lumbering thing.

"A friend," It replied, gazing lazily around before turning its attention back onto him with a wide grin. "And a messenger."

Suspicion started to grasp him now, his eyes narrowing as if to scrutinize the Poe for any signs of deceit. He trusted this random apparition as far as he could throw him. All it talked in seemed to be cryptic words with hidden meanings that he had no time or patience to decipher.

"A messenger of whom?"

"Next house upstairs and you'll find out."

And with that, it was gone, leaving the Stranger with a heavy sense of dread mixed with curiosity. Whoever this person was that commanded the Poe could want him dead. Then again, if that was so, wouldn't they have ordered it to him kill on the spot, rather than talk to him? He grimaced and rubbed his heads, trying to sooth his confused thoughts.

'Might as well go… nothing to lose…'

Cautiously he stepped into the house, pushing aside the remaining debris that was left of the door. It was a tip. The house had been left in ruins, some of the timber bars from the ceiling were scattered about on the floor, reduced to mere splinters. The furniture was all smashed and broken, left to rot away while the rugs and curtains were holding host to any number of moulds and bacteria, their remaining shreds mingled in with the dirt and wood. The windows had been smashed in, dark smears trailing from the walls over to them, signs of the final few moments of the last occupant's life. No-one had lived in here for years. But enough of the sightseeing; he had business to attend to.

He ascended what was left of the staircase – half a set leading up with a giant hole separating it that he had to jump – making his way through the doorway opposite and into the room.

There, framed by the window which she was staring out of, was Zsofia. She didn't turn as he entered, nor did she show any sign that she had acknowledged his presence. Her eyes were trained firmly on observing the empty street below. She must be the Poe's mistress.

"… Who are you?" He asked, unsure of this girl's intentions. She could be a spy, or a traitor, or a bounty hunter; she could be any number of things that would be better off for his capture.

"Someone who wants to help." She replied simply, no expression passing over her serene face as she continued her watch.

"Help with what?"

"Getting you out of here," The girl straighten up from her position near the window, turning to examine him with her amethyst orbs she called eyes. Yes, he was the one. "Alive."

"And how do I know that you're not after the bounty?" The Stranger asked, hand still tightly wrapped around his bow. He was ready to shoot her in the blink of an eye if she even attempted such a thing. He valued lives, but he valued his own more, as is the mortal norm.

"Because you'd be caught by now." Was the languid reply. Her ears pricked up slightly as she caught the very faintest hint of a noise other than their breathing. It meant that they had overstayed their welcome and it was time to get moving.

"... we don't have any time. So are you in, or out?" The creaking noise was getting louder now, creeping up the stairs and in towards them both. He had to hurry up.

"… all right. Fine." He didn't have any reason to trust her beyond her word, but he felt like he had no other choice but to accept her offer. He assumed she knew the town better than he did anyway.

"Good." Zsofia opened up the window before vaulting out of it, the Stranger in hot pursuit. It wasn't too far a drop down to the street below. They'd both made bigger leaps before.

The echoes of the still panicking people and the furious Ferals could be heard rising from the streets nearer to the market centre, somewhere that they were keen to avoid at all costs. Stealth was the highest priority right now as they dipped and waves between buildings and fleeing people. They passed a few corpses that were just strewn across the street, some old, having died from starvation, hollow hands still reaching, begging for food, while one or two were fresh, flies buzzing around their new found homes, the stench of rotting flesh clinging to their clothes. It didn't phase them – it was common place in this day and age.

They paused when they drew close to the gates. Zsofia sidled along to the edge of the building, peering tentatively around to get a better scope of the area. It was clear.

She frowned, knowing that something wasn't quite right here. They'd never late a gatepost unguarded, unless…
"That's far enough, girly." She groaned in realisation at her mistake. They'd been expecting them. The Stranger immediately brought his bow up, an arrow ready to piece flesh, but it was no use; they were surrounded.

"Drop the bow boy! Now!" He glanced at Zsofia, who nodded slightly in reassurance, before slowly dropping it, the wood making a light clatter against the stones. He swore he could see the Feral smirk from underneath it's helm as it observed it's caught prey.

"Now then…" Zsofia turned her head away as it drew closer to her, able to feel it's putrid breath over her neck, her face contorting into an expression of disgust.

"Get away from me." The Feral simply cackled, grabbing her chin with a bloodied hand and forcing her to face it despite her resistance, the Stranger marked by it's fellow Ferals, unable to help without getting himself killed. All he could do was curl his fists in frustration at the scene unfolding before him. But she wasn't going to go down that easy.

"I said… get away!" She grit her teeth, and with all the strength that she could muster, planted a kick right in it's groin. The beast howled, letting go of her face and stumbled away in obvious agony.

The smug smirk that had spread across her face didn't last long though as she felt a burst of pain spread through the back of her head, then crumpling to her knees in shock as the world around her faded to black.