Disclaimer: Legend of Zelda and all characters associated with it belong to Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. GrimGrave does not make money out of writing fiction.
A/N: Hello everyone! Just a quick little note; the poll for heroines you'd like to see appear in this story is now up on my profile. I've taken all suggestions from reviews and pm's and even updated the poll, so please give it a visit and cast your vote.
After all, it affects this story. My apologies for the short length of this chapter, but it's really used just to let you folks know of the poll. I intend to leave it up for at least the remainder of the month, perhaps a bit longer (I'll update it/my profile when it's about to close) because I want and need as many votes as I can get.
Thank you for taking time to read this. Please, enjoy.
Legend of Zelda - The Phylactery of Epochs
Chapter 1 – Terror in the Sky World
Smoke filled the sky and blotted out the sun. The only light came from the roaring fires from burnt down buildings. Women and children fled as brave men and knights, sworn to protect their home in the name of their Goddess, fended off unknown invaders.
The inhabitants – descendants of people from the world below – had lived in the sky, protected from evil and lived through the ages in peace, but were now terrified for their lives. Their home was not without limits, preventing any thought or plan of escape, as monsters kept coming despite the valiant efforts of knights mounted on giant birds.
"Hold the line, Knights of Skyloft! Do not let them through!" a man shouted at the top of his lungs. "Do not let these monsters into the residential district, keep them in the plaza! Loftwing Squad, bombard that portal!"
"Yessir, Knight Commander Eagus!" a small horde of able-bodied men and women exclaimed in unison. Those on foot, armed with nothing but wooden shields and short-swords, held a tight line around the area of which the monsters came from. The Loftwing Squad attacked from above with bows or dropping rocks and/or bombs, but the monsters kept pouring out from the portal at the edge of the plaza.
Despite this, the knights fought valiantly and held the line, as intended; backed up with villagers armed with dull swords and tools, they stood a chance, however small. The monsters were as if from nightmares; the bulk of the forces were small creatures with skullcaps and swords or clubs, while others were undead, skeletons clad in scraps of metal and wielding sharp machetes. Weird lizard-like creature that stood upright appeared as well, charging to the front with shields and short-swords and capable of breathing fire.
"There's too many of them!" a redheaded girl, clad in green, shouted over the sound of battle. "We will run out of ammunition at this rate!"
The Knight Commander gritted his teeth and turned around. "Gonzo! Take three men with you and bring back as much scrap and rocks as you can! Without the Loftwing Squad's aid, we will be overrun!"
The tall man, a tinkerer and shop-owner with no experience of war, gave an affirmative nod and, along with the three people closest to him, headed back.
"Everyone, don't give up! Hold on for just a little longer! Loftwing riders, focus your attacks on that portal! Archers, take down the enemies in the rear, everyone else hold the line!"
The knights and fighting villagers shouted a battle-cry and fought on; shields shattered, blades clashed, and arrows rained from above, while the fallen – monsters and humans – lay forgotten and bleeding on the ground until the battle would end.
Eagues took the full brunt of an attack – a large spear wielded by a large, fat creature – with his shield before slicing at the monster's exposed belly and knocking it onto its back. ´Dammit, Link! Where are you?!´ "Why hasn't the fires been put out yet?! The Bazaar will be burnt to the ground!"
"The villagers are working on it, Knight Commander!" a young Knight of Skyloft replied. "But the fire is too big!"
It dawned on the man. "And we can't afford to send any of the men to help them… Everyone, give it your all! Fight for your fellow soldiers and the villagers of our home! In the name of Hylia!"
The Knights and villagers who fought shouted in unison, "FOR HYLIA!"
X.x.X
He witnessed it – the battle, the bloodshed, the multitude of faces; some twisted in fighting anger or fear of death – and he did so with a small amount of amusement. He knew it was necessary; a stepping stone to his larger plan, larger than himself, for it was here that history had begun to spin the cogs of destiny. This was the root of everything that had happened, was happening, and would happen. It was here that the Hero of Legend had emerged again, along with the bloodline of the Goddess, Hylia, as well as where the curse of an ancient evil's spirit had first been placed.
He observed, as the puppeteer in the shadows, how his plan was executed and bit by bit was completed. Monsters were not in any short supply, but the humans of the floating island were few in numbers, and fewer still that could fight. They'd fall, one by one, until their line was broken and any resistance left would be trampled under the onslaught.
History was quite the enigmatic yet interesting phenomenon; ever little action affected the course of time, endlessly creating new paths, which created different outcomes and kept on going and splitting until every possible outcome was created infinitively. They all had one connection however, and removing that would mean the end of everything else and begin the cycle anew based on this change.
The change, of course, being the death of the Hero of Legend; removing him from the stage would mean that there'd be no-one to stop the ancient evil and disrupt the timelines that forked off from this one. They would become affected by the events here until they either vanished or became so different beyond repair.
And so he – the puppeteer shrouded in shadows – patiently watched as his plan slowly came to fruition. With an ancient relic in his possession, history was but an open door for him to step through as he pleased.
And not just through history to this world: this opened up, quite literally, many possibilities for spreading his conquest to other worlds for such was his desire, such was his hunger, that the craving for more – power, lands, artefacts – was insatiable.
But the greatest source of power lied within the Sacred Realm, and it was it, and no other, that he sought. But even then, with it in his possession, it would merely be a tool used to harvest more power, for it would mean more worlds to conquer, which leads to more power in an unending cycle of fulfilling the desires, the hunger, the ultimate goal of his one, true master; himself.
A/N: Thank you for reading. See you in the next chapter and, again, thank you for any feedback. It helps me a lot, and keeps me going.
