Chapter 1: Shadowed Fate
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Hello everyone! I'm back (sort of)! Lots of life has happened; I got married, moved a couple times, dealt with the most difficult semester of college yet, and endured a lot of difficult family issues. I've had a lot of hardships and a lot of adventures, and now many parts of RBU are now written from experience. Especially the archery scenes.
I've now finished a project that I started back in December – reworking RBU and paying more attention to overall writing and story quality as well as realism, and my wonderful husband has been my peer reviewer and consultant. Now I'm going to start posting the freshly polished chapters. I'll try to post two or three a day; I know that's not very many, but I have really bad internet with a data cap, sooo… we'll see how it goes. We might be moving soon and getting better internet, at which point I'll be able to post more updates.
The new RBU is mostly the same, but there are some major changes, especially in Zelda's character and in later chapters. There are also additional scenes every now and then to improve the overall story development. So, to keep from getting confused when eventually I start posting new chapters again, I highly recommend re-reading the story as updates come out!
I know it's been a long time, but I want to throw out a special thank you for those of you that have been sending encouraging notes, reaching out to me privately, and not giving up on me or the story. For your privacy, I won't make a callout here, but you know who you are. Please know that your faith, encouragement, and friendship has meant the world to me.
I hope you all enjoy the new RBU!
\-==/\==-/
"Thyphlo Ruins? Are you mad?"
Lightning flashed, sending Rylla's face into stark planes of ghostly white and deepest black.
Cleun rubbed a weary hand over his face, stubble rough against his fingers. "Just this one last thing, and he'll fund our studies for the next decade. Aye, it's dangerous, but - let's be honest - what isn't?"
Rylla tossed him a dirty look. "It shouldn't be that way," she muttered. "If you hadn't lost those carvings -"
"Oh, I lost the carvings?" Cleun interrupted, anger rising in his gut. "If we're blaming anyone, it'll be you, seeing as you had that urgent business to attend to, leaving me to watch over ancient relics and our reckless three-year-old son, who tends to wander, if you hadn't noticed!"
"Don't you speak that way about Link!" Rylla protested. "He's just as curious as we ever were, which will make him a grand scholar one day!"
"One day," Cleun agreed, feeling a slight pang of guilt at his harsh words. "But… Rylla, what about now?"
Silence fell between them, broken only by the steady hammering of rain on the flat roof of the small roadside shelter that had been their home for the past week.
"It wasn't our fault," Rylla sighed at last, leaning against the wall. Absently she ran a hand through her short, ragged hair. "It was that thief. He's the one who took those carvings. And goodness knows but he might've been a killer, too - it's a lucky thing Link ran off right then. You might've tried to stop the thief otherwise, and then where would we be?" Her voice had gone steadily softer and more mournful with each word until she looked and sounded twice her age, buckling beneath the weight of the world.
Cleun wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "Hey, now. Might've? I've a little more courage than that, Rylla."
She chuckled halfheartedly, curling her arms tightly around him. "This isn't what I want for our son," she murmured into his chest. "A life on the roads, out in the wilderness, no roots anywhere…"
A shadow passed over Cleun's heart. "We'll manage. Get our own place someday. We'll teach him all we know and then some," he sighed. "Arm him with all the knowledge of how the world works. Perhaps he'll be the one to crack the secret of the Zonai."
"If we don't crack it first," Rylla smirked, a bit of life returning to her sapphire gaze, illuminated by the weak candles sputtering around the single room.
Cleun inhaled deeply. It was exactly the opening he needed, but his heart felt heavy even as he began to speak. "Thyphlo was built by the Zonai, Rylla. It might have just the answers we need. And even if we don't find anything, Cassius has guaranteed us funding for the next ten years. Think about it - anything we need, anywhere we want to go… we'll be more than well-equipped to take our studies far beyond where they are now. We've never had an opportunity like this."
"I don't trust Cassius," Rylla huffed. "That theory of his, that if you start someone's training early enough they'll develop in such a way that makes them perfectly suited for combat…" She shuddered. "Children aren't meant to be warriors."
Cleun shifted uncomfortably. "Aye, he's not exactly… ideal. But he's a benefactor nonetheless -"
"Indeed? A wealthy man happens to show up and offer funding right when we lose those relics and promises funding only if we travel to one of the most dangerous places in the kingdom?" She shook her head with a heavy frown. "What's more, he has ties to the Castle. And last I heard, they're not much interested in Zonai research. Haven't been for decades!"
She was angry now, and Cleun's heart clenched. He and his wife happened to find the Zonai far more fascinating than the ancient Sheikah, and were stubborn (and foolish) enough to pursue their own dream instead of something more profitable. It had been many years since anyone had agreed to fund their work.
"It's much too convenient," Rylla growled. "Cassius is up to something, Cleun. And I'd wager it means nothing good for us."
"Maybe you're right," Cleun said hastily, hoping to appease her. "And… maybe you're not. But if you hadn't noticed, we're teetering on the verge of desperation. Or… destitution, more like."
Rylla stiffened at the word. They both glanced in the direction of the pile of blankets in the corner, where nothing could be seen of their son but a small explosion of golden hair.
"It's a miracle he hasn't fallen ill yet," Rylla whispered, her thoughts at last averted from suspicions. "Come winter, I don't know…" Her voice trailed away. She looked up, meeting Cleun's gaze, and sighed heavily, shaking her head. "A survey of Thyphlo Ruins, eh? Mysterious darkness, monster hordes, and nearly untouched Zonai architecture." She inhaled deeply. "We'll do it, then. We'll do it for our son - to give him a better life."
Cleun nodded, holding her closer. "A better life," he echoed softly, planting a gentle kiss on her brow.
\-==/\==-/
Darkness. Darkness everywhere - surrounding him. His heart raced with terror and his mind whirled with confusion and pain.
They were gone - he was alone. He didn't even know how it happened. One moment they were there, and the next… the next he was on his own, running for his life.
An angry screech caught his attention. Link whirled around, glancing fearfully all around. He wanted nothing more than to curl up into a little ball and cry and wait for his mother and father to come and find him. They always did. Always! Monsters or no monsters!
But somehow, deep within, instinct told him that waiting would get him killed this time.
And he didn't want that.
Light pierced the darkness around him. Two golden pinpricks slowly drawing closer, along with the slither of a scaly tail sliding over grass and leaves. Link whimpered, taking a shaking step back.
More pairs of golden lights flickered into existence, and his back collided with something hard - a boulder, or the wall of an ancient, ruined building. The blackness was so deep, he couldn't tell which.
With an angry snarl, the lizalfos charged -
\-==/\==-/
Link shot upright in bed with a strangled gasp, clutching his pounding heart. For a moment, seeing nothing but darkness, he felt as if he were still immersed in the dream - or perhaps it had been a memory. So much time had passed, he could no longer distinguish between the two.
But his eyes soon adjusted; he could see the faint outlines of rows of bunks all around and above him. He could hear the snores of his fellow Royal Guards and told himself he was safe - it was only a nightmare; it wasn't real.
A tremor went through him, and he pulled his knees close to his chest, letting his chin dip down. Biting his lip, hard, he tried to bring his mind away from that night, away from the very first battle he had ever fought, away from the blood and the screams and the chilling terror and the light glistening over their torn, mutilated bodies -
His body went rigid; he sucked down desperate, rapid gulps of air, clenching his hands into fists, feeling his pulse accelerate. He shook his head violently, grinding his forehead against his knees, fighting against the memories that bound him. A strained cry escaped his lips and the sound was nearly enough to calm him, if only out of fear. He went still, eyes wide, listening closely. Is anyone else awake? Did someone hear that?
He swallowed. Knights snored above and around him; a few mumbled in their sleep and someone shifted on their mattress, causing it to creak faintly. But other than that, the night was still. Link released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and felt his muscles slowly relax. I'm safe. They don't know how much I'm struggling.
For now.
His blood still surging with fading adrenaline, he turned his gaze to the sacred blade lying at the bottom of his bunk, glowing faintly in the gloom.
The Goddesses have chosen me to fight the most dangerous entity ever to threaten our world. Even after a few months, it was painfully difficult to accept. There was so much that depended on him… it felt as if someone was pushing down on his shoulders, trying to force him to bend his back. He felt lost, a single candle sputtering surrounded by impenetrable shadows, with no clear way forward. Falling, in a void of uncertainty.
Link licked his dry lips, shivering as the sweat began to dry on his skin. He forced himself to lay back down and pulled his blankets up to his shoulders, reminding himself that it would be the last time he slept in an actual bed for a while.
It was hardly more pleasant to think about than his past, but at least there wasn't any blood involved. He tried to find the bright side - for the first time in what felt like an age, he wouldn't have to practice. We'll just be travelling. With a little bit of extra work here and there. And no Captain Janin.
His thoughts darkened. No Captain Janin - but I'll still have the other knights to worry about.
He shook his head wearily to himself, letting his eyes slip closed. Lots to do tomorrow, he thought, focusing on each breath as he drifted once more into slumber. And so many ways for everything to go wrong.
\-==/\==-/
"Alright, listen up!"
Sir Hanvorien stood, broad shoulders squared and bushy brown brows furrowed, out in the courtyard just outside of the Guard's Chamber. "You all know the general idea," he continued. "The journey from Hyrule Castle to Goron City isn't ideal. Takes at least four days with a good horse and a sturdy pair of legs, and the last day's all through deadly volcanic territory. Need lots of elixirs, protective gear, that sort of thing. So the King wants us to investigate an area northeast of here, see if an alternate climbing route could be possible. Survey only. Should just take a couple days."
"Sir?" A knight called Garmish raised his large hand awkwardly. "What's the runt doing here?"
The other men laughed as if Garmish had cracked a joke, and Link's face flushed; he forced himself not to react and stared emotionlessly straight ahead.
Sir Hanvorien smiled. It didn't reach his cold eyes. He reached out to grip Link's shoulder and dragged him forward to the front of the group. "You remember the last tourney," he said with a forced laugh. "How this kid here showed us all up. I requested to bring 'im along, show that there's no hard feelings."
A couple of dark chuckles rumbled through the assembled knights. Link moistened his lips anxiously, feeling his palms grow sweaty. This is to be revenge, then. Fantastic.
It was almost enough to make him prefer Captain Janin's training, regardless of the nightmares.
Sir Hanvorien gave his shoulder a fierce squeeze. "So how about it, men? Any more questions? Then let's get on with it!" He gave Link a hearty shove, sending him stumbling forwards as the other knights went to their horses, already saddled and waiting. Link hurried to his own mount, a sturdy bay mare he had named Choice. She whickered a greeting as he approached, and he couldn't help but smile. "Good morning to you, too," he murmured, rubbing her nose affectionately. "Ready to get out of here for a little while?"
She snorted, and his grin widened. A few of the clouds shadowing his mood dispersed as he double-checked her gear and hooves. Revenge or not, he felt certain that as long as he could spend time with his horse, he would be able to handle anything thrown his way.
"Oi, runt!"
Link spun around just in time to catch a large leather bag half his size, bulging with something quite heavy. "Wh-what's this?"
"Chains," Sir Farthong explained with a hard glint in his eyes. "We'll be using them to mark the path. It wouldn't be too much trouble for you to carry those for us, now would it?"
Link shifted the heavy bag in his arms, trying to get a good grip. "Well…"
"Excellent," Farthong smirked. "You'll be carrying the stakes as well. Made of solid iron. Piece of cake for someone like you, I'm sure!"
Link glared at him, once again adjusting the chains in his arms. Revenge, indeed.
With a grunt of exertion he heaved it up onto Choice's saddle. "Sorry, girl. It's just for today, though - I'll be on foot the rest of the time." He said the last words bitterly, not at all looking forward to hiking and climbing with something so heavy on his back.
Quickly he hopped up into the saddle, clicking his teeth softly and urging his mare after the other knights as they followed Sir Hanvorien along the tidy cobblestone path down the large hill Hyrule Castle perched upon. As they passed by, Link glanced up to the tall tower housing the Princess' bedchambers, and the bridge connecting that to her study. Wonder what she's doing right now, he thought distractedly, tilting his head to the side.
Word was that she was nothing but a failure, a lazy do-nothing with her head in the clouds. After all, so people said, they had the Master Sword, they had the Divine Beasts, they would soon have the Guardians, but they did not have the sealing power. And what did the Princess do? Research ancient Sheikah artifacts.
Link couldn't help but feel a bit nauseous whenever he heard someone speaking like that about her. He hadn't seen her in person very often, but as a member of the Royal Guard, he had encountered her more than most. And it was true that she spent much time on archaeology, but that didn't make her lazy. On the contrary, every time he had seen her she appeared to be working hard on one thing or another. And he had often seen her praying in the cathedral, or kneeling wherever she happened to be at the moment, her head bowed in supplication to the Goddesses.
She's giving everything her best effort - she's sure to awaken her power soon!
They reached the Woodland Stable a little while before noon and set to work boarding their horses. Sir Hanvorien filled out the paperwork as several stable hands took charge of the horses and led them into empty stalls. Link followed Choice to her stall and untacked her himself, sliding her bridle free and hanging it carefully on a hook, lifting the chains from her back and unbuckling her girth strap, pulling off her saddle. He hummed softly as he worked, relishing these last few moments with his closest - and only - friend. For those few minutes he felt almost normal, or at least, as normal as he had ever been able to feel.
Just him and his horse. No kingdom to save, no angry knights on his tail, no nightmares…
"We are not little girls fawning over our first pony, Sir Link," an oily voice drawled, and Link's jaw tightened as he looked over his shoulder to see Sir Garmish leaning on the stall door, a crooked grin twisting his thin lips beneath his auburn beard. "Everyone else is assembled. We're waiting on you."
Link grimaced, lifting the heavy bag of chains from the ground and swinging it over his shoulders. He shouldered his way past Garmish, motioning for a stable hand to take over in Choice's stall before hurrying out into the bright noonday sun.
"Delighted you could join us," Sir Hanvorien rolled his eyes. "Groose, the stakes."
The tallest of the gathered knights, Garmish's brother, strutted up to him and held out a bag smaller than the first, but, as Link soon realized, no less heavy. "These're important, runt," Groose muttered. "You better not lose any."
Link fastened the bag to his belt without a word, and with a beckoning wave of his hand Sir Hanvorien started up the trail winding upwards.
For the first few hours, it was the exact same path Link had taken - along with the rest of the squires - to the Lost Woods and the Korok Forest so many months ago. Only, of course, they had been on horseback then. That was one comfort, at least… Choice's calm presence always made everything better.
Even that.
One by one, they stepped up to the pedestal. Many of them had wanted it, had yearned for the glory it would bring. The fame.
Link had hoped it wouldn't be him. He was among the small group of squires who believed that if the Master Sword wasn't drawn, the Calamity wouldn't occur. That sacred blade was nothing but a herald of doom.
Besides that, Link already received far too much unwanted attention for his prowess in swordsmanship. The other squires hated him for it, as did most of the knights he trained with. Only Captain Janin of the Royal Guard seemed to be pleased with his skills.
"The perfect warrior!" he would always say.
Link tore his mind out of the past, taking in a deep breath and shifting the crushing weight of the chains on his shoulders. I can't change what happened. So now I just have to deal with it.
\-==/\==-/
They stopped for the night right where the east fork of the trail ended, blocked by a ledge too tall and steep for a horse to jump over. That, according to Hanvorien, would be where they started in the morning.
As campfires crackled into existence Link wandered away from the others, hoping distance would allow him to escape their notice. He was hungry, and the food Garmish was cooking smelled delicious, but considering the hostility that awaited him among his fellows, he didn't think it would be wise to join them for a meal.
Sighing, he set up his bedroll and crawled beneath the blankets, falling quickly asleep despite the uneven, rocky ground under his back.
Carrying those chains all day… more tiring than I thought…
But if that was as far as this revenge went, he was certain he could handle it.
Updated 6/15