Disclaimer time: The characters appearing in this chapter I own, including two of the three important ones I mentioned in the prologue, they being Tracer and Shaun. The Double-L Ranch and Forbidden Forest aren't mine though (Lon Lon Ranch and Lost Woods, respectively). And that which this crummy work of fiction is based on, the Legend of Zelda is pwned by Nintendo.
The
Legend of Zelda: Heroes
of Time
Chapter
One: The Legend Begins… Such as it Is
Every legend has to start somewhere, and Zelda's newest legend starts in a fairly major city called Capella. School bells ring signifying the end of another school year.
Two freshly graduated lifelong friends attempt to push their way through throngs of teenage humanity in an effort to reach a beat up old truck akin to freedom. Shaun is athletically built and about 5'9" with dark brown skin cornrows and uniquely pointed ears. He is closely followed by the taller, fair skinned, disheveled looking Tracer.
"Hurry up! We'll never make it before nightfall at this rate!" Shaun shouts over the crowd, at last breaking through into open space.
"Grrr! I'm trying!" Tracer shouts back in something of a southern drawl, finally grabbing hold of Shaun's outstretched hand.
Shaun pulls him through with all the force he can muster with both landing in heap next to an anime poo.
"Owww…" Shaun mumbles, dragging himself to his feet. "That hurt."
"Ah… yeah, that's one thing from youth I won't miss," Tracer smiles serenely dusting himself off.
"Hehe… Agreed," Shaun nods as they approach his crusty looking ride. "Now, let's get out of here. We still have to stop at my place and yours before we can skip town."
"Onward… to freedom!" Tracer battle-cries, closing the door on his leg. "Gahhh!"
The truck roars to life, as if angry to be awoken from a sweet dream.
----
A short time later the plucky duo pulls into the driveway of the small house downtown where Shaun grew up. They climb out of the truck and Shaun's little sister runs up to greet them.
"Heeeey!" she shouts excitedly. "C'mon!" she takes them by the hands and drags them to the door.
"Where my boys at?" Shaun's mom leaves a simmering pot of soup to meet them.
"Hi mom," Shaun mumbles when they meet in the kitchen.
"Hi Mrs. Hobson," Tracer nods somberly, taking everything in.
Mrs. Hobson smiles brightly. She is still fairly youthful, only about 38 by Tracer's count, not a trace of gray in her long, jet black hair, and her face is that of a younger woman as well. She is about 5'6" and slender, perhaps due to her heavy workload, skin ever-so-slightly darker than Shaun's.
"My boys… all grown up," she reaches up and gives them both a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, tears welling up in her eyes.
She steps back to take a look at them.
Her son Shaun, wearing baggy jeans and an oversized unbuttoned t-shirt revealing a rust colored beater underneath, hastily done cornrows and in his unusually pointed ears those goofy looking earrings she didn't want him to get. 'Still though,' she thinks, 'I see past the way he dresses. He can't hide it from his mom. He's become so mature these past couple years… so smart and brave. He's going to be great… no matter what he decides to do. My little boy… my Shaun.'
'And Tracer,' she looks at the young man next to her son, never seeing him in a suit and tie before, though his light brown hair is as unkempt as the first time she laid eyes on him, recalling that day. 'Kindergarten, five years old, bloody nose and ripped shirt, tears in his eyes, jumped by three third graders. Shaun brought him here because he missed his bus. My little roughneck, the kids that jumped him got hurt worse than he did.'
Every time they stood there before her throughout the years, for the good reasons and the bad, pass before her eyes in a matter of seconds.
"Got your stuff!" Shaun's little sister drags in a suitcase almost as big as she is, snapping Mrs. Hobson back to reality.
"Guess it's about time," Mrs. Hobson says softly, hugging them again. "Be safe out there. I'll miss you both."
She leaves for a moment bringing back the soup. "In case you don't catch anything."
Tracer thanks Mrs. Hobson, and takes hold of the pot, as Shaun grabs his suitcase and hugs his little sister.
Shaun crawls into the back of truck and puts his suitcase and the soup next to Tracer's two suitcases, emerging from the back and waving to his mom and sister as he walks around to the driver's side. His little sister runs up and puts something in his hand before he starts the truck with an infernal growl, adjusts the mirror, pulls out, and drives away.
"What'd she give ya?" Tracer asks after a moment.
"I dunno," Shaun hands it to him.
"Hmm… interesting."
----
Nearly two hours pass by the time the duo turn onto the dusty road that leads to the Double-L Ranch, the place Tracer has called home for most of his life.
"Now comes the part I've been... let's go with, dreading," Tracer groans.
"Still don't get along with your pops, huh?" Shaun asks.
"Yeah, we haven't gotten along since he was chosen to take over the operations of the place when the previous owner died," Tracer mutters as the impressive ranch comes into view.
The Double-L is comprised of the main house where the owner and his or her family live and conduct business from, and several guest houses for the help and many stables for the animals and a warehouse-type building for the help's younger children to go to school and various other activities, the old barn that houses everybody's vehicles and miles and miles of rolling planes that extend well beyond a nearby river that flows from a far-off mountain range. On this day, it seems to be full of life, a far cry from the hopeless situation it was left in when Tracer's dad took over.
"Well, well, if it ain't the prodigal son, back from school," a friendly ranch hand named Rodrigo who's been there since he was a teenager some 25 years ago, comes out to greet them as they come to a stop at the gate. "Your father is in the main house, going over some paperwork. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you, Landfarer."
"That would be new, and you know I hate my middle name," Tracer says, rolling his eyes as he walks past his "Uncle Rod".
Tracer and Shaun both take a deep breath before stepping inside. They head toward the door, being greeted by Rodrigo's wife and three children, and four other children being watched over by a maid and the live-in teacher.
"Knock, knock," Tracer says tapping on the door of the room that serves as an office, mustering up a fairly convincing smile before he shows his face.
"Ah, Tracer, Shaun, please come in," the grizzled cowboy looks up from the papers. "Welcome back. How're y'all doing?"
Shaun and Tracer look at each other, confused by Tracer's strangely jovial father.
"Relax, you two. C'mon, let's go for a walk," He gets up from behind the desk, a big man, taller than his son and muscular, well into his 40s his hair now equal parts gray and brown, a thick moustache and a permanent tan from a lifetime of hard work in the great outdoors, he's every bit a modern day cowboy, though not dressed the part today, and ushers them out the door and back outside.
As they walk past the stables, Tracer speaks up, "What's with all the kids in the house? You always hated us making noise back in the day."
"Honestly, I started to miss the noise after awhile," he shrugs. "I just wanted to know if you were sure about leaving right away. I mean, you just graduated about three hours ago. Now that the place is officially profitable-"
"No dad," Tracer cuts him off sharply. "I'm only here to grab the camping equipment and say so long to you and this place forever. I have a life beyond this ranch and I'm not hanging around any longer than I have to."
"Well, what can I say then? Good luck to you, son. I hope you have a nice life and find what you are looking for," he extends his hand. "Look, I know I've always been hard on you, sometimes more than was necessary… but I am proud of you."
Tracer's look is venomous, actually scaring Shaun when he looks over. But he pushes the anger down and quickly shakes his father's hand with as much force as he can muster before stalking off, muttering, "Whatever," as he heads back toward the house.
"Ah well, I told him the truth. That's all I can do," Tracer's dad mutters. "Watch out for each other, okay Shaun?"
"We always do," Shaun smiles weakly.
"Good man," they shake hands and go their separate ways.
Inside, Tracer grabs the camping gear, his impressive strength and balance allowing him to get it all in one trip, and runs across some old photographs that make him even more depressed, taking them as well.
"Bye Uncle Rod," Tracer forces a smile as he passes the gate. "Keep up the good work."
"You got it, Landfarer," he smiles, prompting Tracer to roll his eyes again.
Once the coolers are filled with ice, the duo sets off with another unholy roar, destination: Forbidden Forest, for a week of camping and fishing before going their separate ways for a year.
End of Chapter One
There you go. Did you like it? No? Let me know. Please review.