By His Own Hands
-Zekhsyre
Do I really have to say this? Everyone else seems to be. (sigh) I don't own Legend of Zelda games. The characters represented here are not mine. This is the first part of a series of short stories involving the events precluding Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. I will be continuing this regardless of how many reviews I get, but feedback would be very much appreciated. Enjoy.
In the end it was inevitable.
The army of vermin that Ganon had gathered to him was formidable. He had tamed the Moblins, bestial and foul though they were, and he had subjugated the faithful Iron Knuckes and Darknuts that had been hidden through the kingdom. In times past they had risen, mighty iron bodies trembling with rage, to smite the enemies of Hyrule. Now they had turned against that land, and only men were left to fight them. They had barred the gates with spears and barricaded the palace with furniture. A single chair that the King had sat upon was worth a fortune, but if the King was dead what use would rupees be? The Guard had waited as heavy blows made the doors shake like leaves, hearing the base brutality of hoof and claw mingle with the subtle pounding of the torrential rain above. Then the doors burst open as the heavy steel lock contorted like a pretzel, and the last the guards saw was the glint of the torchlight (for outside it was surpassing dark) off Moblin spearheads. They died fast deaths. The army of the dark prince knew that these men were not important, and speed was of the essence.
Over the next hour two forces were in competition. The horde smashed through doors and barricades, drawing ever higher in the castle. The water that the rain and the gods had brought rose ever higher, drowning many of those that had escaped Ganon and pooling ankle-deep around the horde.
But the deaths of guards and servants, even the death of knights and sages, are all pale shadows before the deaths of kings. And it was to kill a king that Ganon had come here tonight to accomplish, for if this land was to be lost to him the architect of that loss would not be suffered to live.
It was a fine boat. For a thousand years the kings of Hyrule had been buried at sea, or at least in what sea they had. Their boats, ornate and gilded dragons and swans, were sailed flaming out to the center of Lake Hylia, where they sunk to the bottom of the water to join the moss-laden ships of their ancestors. Daphnes Norens Hyrule, last of the line of Kings and sole monarch of a drowned and barren land, would not ride this boat into that ancient lake. When the rains began its waters had become swollen and turbulent, and now it was just another submerged gully. Never again would a gilded boat slide across it in flames.
He'd done his best. How could he not have? But the road to Hell was paved with good intentions, and he knew he might never be forgiven for what had happened here. In normal times he would almost certainly be overthrown, assassinated.
These were not normal times, but he was still damned if he would be slain by any hand.other than his own.
He had been down there two weeks ago. Down beneath the statue to the Hero. Down in the home of the Sword. He had prayed there, on his knees, as many of his people had prayed. Since the hordes of darkness had came forth from the desert, committing massacres and atrocities as they went, religion was the last recourse for many.
His prayers were not ones of salvation, but of destruction. He had been there, begging the Three to destroy this kingdom. In a way his attitude towards his domain was the same as his feelings towards assassination. If it was to be slain, let it be by his own hand. And he had felt the eyes of the Sages, immortalized in stained glass. He had felt their stares, arrogant and enraged, the glass shaking. He had known it was his imagination, but he still thought that if they could the sages of old would have shattered forward from the glass to slice him into death.
Damn them. Damned be the lot of them. It was a magnificent boat, in it's way. It was ivory white with gold trimmings, and its head was that of a dragon. Not an angry figurehead or a noble one, perhaps, but there was anger in those empty eyes and a certain nobility in the angular shape of its hull.
The door slammed open. And Daphnes did not sigh, or weep, or show any signs of fear, despite the way the floor of the parapet he stood on was suddenly illuminated. Brightened by the fire within Ganon's eyes, as those same eyes reflected off the water that in a few minutes would cover even this tower.
"It is over, your majesty." Ganon growled, something dark and bestial buried within those accented words.
"Think you so, Ganon? It is not over. I'll see you bound once more."
"You have no time for that."
The sudden metallic sound of steel on stone. Ganon had drawn his sword.
"What time do I need? For though you escaped the Holy Realm, dark prince." Daphnes smiles grimly, though he knew the monster behind him saw not. "You cannot escape the sea, and for a thousand years it is here you will sleep. On this tower, in the darkness."
"Then you will die with me!" A roar. Hot breath on the king's neck.
"No!"
And Ganon saw what had been hidden in the folds of the king's robe: a dagger, razor sharp and golden. Daphnes had buried it to the hilt in his chest.
"Not.by your hands, Ganon." he gasped. "Never.by.your."
But his eyes glazed over as his robes were turned a deeper scarlet with his blood. King Daphnes Norens Hyrule took one final step backwards and fell into the never used boat, and the white wood became tainted with the crimson blood of a king.
Ganon stood there as the waves washed over the tower, stood there as the boat began to wash higher. As if it sailed some sea of death. He threw back his head and laughed. Just stood there, laughing in his sea of blood, waiting for the end.
While the body of the king rode towards the stars in his crimson boat.
fin
-Zekhsyre
Do I really have to say this? Everyone else seems to be. (sigh) I don't own Legend of Zelda games. The characters represented here are not mine. This is the first part of a series of short stories involving the events precluding Legend of Zelda: The Wind Waker. I will be continuing this regardless of how many reviews I get, but feedback would be very much appreciated. Enjoy.
In the end it was inevitable.
The army of vermin that Ganon had gathered to him was formidable. He had tamed the Moblins, bestial and foul though they were, and he had subjugated the faithful Iron Knuckes and Darknuts that had been hidden through the kingdom. In times past they had risen, mighty iron bodies trembling with rage, to smite the enemies of Hyrule. Now they had turned against that land, and only men were left to fight them. They had barred the gates with spears and barricaded the palace with furniture. A single chair that the King had sat upon was worth a fortune, but if the King was dead what use would rupees be? The Guard had waited as heavy blows made the doors shake like leaves, hearing the base brutality of hoof and claw mingle with the subtle pounding of the torrential rain above. Then the doors burst open as the heavy steel lock contorted like a pretzel, and the last the guards saw was the glint of the torchlight (for outside it was surpassing dark) off Moblin spearheads. They died fast deaths. The army of the dark prince knew that these men were not important, and speed was of the essence.
Over the next hour two forces were in competition. The horde smashed through doors and barricades, drawing ever higher in the castle. The water that the rain and the gods had brought rose ever higher, drowning many of those that had escaped Ganon and pooling ankle-deep around the horde.
But the deaths of guards and servants, even the death of knights and sages, are all pale shadows before the deaths of kings. And it was to kill a king that Ganon had come here tonight to accomplish, for if this land was to be lost to him the architect of that loss would not be suffered to live.
It was a fine boat. For a thousand years the kings of Hyrule had been buried at sea, or at least in what sea they had. Their boats, ornate and gilded dragons and swans, were sailed flaming out to the center of Lake Hylia, where they sunk to the bottom of the water to join the moss-laden ships of their ancestors. Daphnes Norens Hyrule, last of the line of Kings and sole monarch of a drowned and barren land, would not ride this boat into that ancient lake. When the rains began its waters had become swollen and turbulent, and now it was just another submerged gully. Never again would a gilded boat slide across it in flames.
He'd done his best. How could he not have? But the road to Hell was paved with good intentions, and he knew he might never be forgiven for what had happened here. In normal times he would almost certainly be overthrown, assassinated.
These were not normal times, but he was still damned if he would be slain by any hand.other than his own.
He had been down there two weeks ago. Down beneath the statue to the Hero. Down in the home of the Sword. He had prayed there, on his knees, as many of his people had prayed. Since the hordes of darkness had came forth from the desert, committing massacres and atrocities as they went, religion was the last recourse for many.
His prayers were not ones of salvation, but of destruction. He had been there, begging the Three to destroy this kingdom. In a way his attitude towards his domain was the same as his feelings towards assassination. If it was to be slain, let it be by his own hand. And he had felt the eyes of the Sages, immortalized in stained glass. He had felt their stares, arrogant and enraged, the glass shaking. He had known it was his imagination, but he still thought that if they could the sages of old would have shattered forward from the glass to slice him into death.
Damn them. Damned be the lot of them. It was a magnificent boat, in it's way. It was ivory white with gold trimmings, and its head was that of a dragon. Not an angry figurehead or a noble one, perhaps, but there was anger in those empty eyes and a certain nobility in the angular shape of its hull.
The door slammed open. And Daphnes did not sigh, or weep, or show any signs of fear, despite the way the floor of the parapet he stood on was suddenly illuminated. Brightened by the fire within Ganon's eyes, as those same eyes reflected off the water that in a few minutes would cover even this tower.
"It is over, your majesty." Ganon growled, something dark and bestial buried within those accented words.
"Think you so, Ganon? It is not over. I'll see you bound once more."
"You have no time for that."
The sudden metallic sound of steel on stone. Ganon had drawn his sword.
"What time do I need? For though you escaped the Holy Realm, dark prince." Daphnes smiles grimly, though he knew the monster behind him saw not. "You cannot escape the sea, and for a thousand years it is here you will sleep. On this tower, in the darkness."
"Then you will die with me!" A roar. Hot breath on the king's neck.
"No!"
And Ganon saw what had been hidden in the folds of the king's robe: a dagger, razor sharp and golden. Daphnes had buried it to the hilt in his chest.
"Not.by your hands, Ganon." he gasped. "Never.by.your."
But his eyes glazed over as his robes were turned a deeper scarlet with his blood. King Daphnes Norens Hyrule took one final step backwards and fell into the never used boat, and the white wood became tainted with the crimson blood of a king.
Ganon stood there as the waves washed over the tower, stood there as the boat began to wash higher. As if it sailed some sea of death. He threw back his head and laughed. Just stood there, laughing in his sea of blood, waiting for the end.
While the body of the king rode towards the stars in his crimson boat.
fin