The Legend of Zelda
Chapter One
Author's Note: I'm lazy. Unless you couldn't tell. So instead of hoping for new, creative disclaimers, just check back to the first page or tell me before you sue me. Now then, I whine for not having any reviews yet and start to write. Hum de dum.
The loud, deep, familiar sound of the gong filled the air for the thousandth time and the little house was immediately filled with liveliness. If you call yawning, lazy eleven year olds lively.
"But I don't want to take over the world," Link complained, less than half awake. The gong sounded again and the boy fell right out of his bed in surprise, a man standing by his door and snickering. "What are you laughing at, huh? Nothing to see here, just -"
"A foolish lazy child?"
"Yes. Just a foolish lazy chi – Hey! Shut up!" The man, Link's uncle, laughed a bit more, obviously not too intimidated by the angered kid. "Now… Why did you get me up so early?" He asked, looking out the window to see the sun just starting to rise from its slumber.
"This is your last day of training, young one! Remember, your twelfth birthday is tomorrow, and your mother ordered that by twelve you should stop practicing."
"She expects me to be some sort of master swordsman at the age of twelve?" whined the boy, getting off of the ground and rubbing the dust off of his pajamas.
For as long as he knew, Link never had any parents. Or, rather, didn't remember either of them. His uncle, who his mother assigned to raise her son and train him to be a warrior, always told him bed time stories about the attack on his hometown, when his brave father risked his life for him, his wife and his distant brother, Link's uncle himself. Link's uncle never told him why his mother gave him to the man, but the fact was that neither of them knew, and his mother herself said she didn't know, so said his uncle.
"Don't ask me, just get dressed and get your sword."
"No food?"
"No food."
"Why did I ever agree to this again?"
"You didn't."
"Stop interrupting my soliloquy."
"Very well."
Said soliloquy of complaining went for a few more minutes, before Link was eventually shoved into his closet and had it shut behind him. "Do you want me to dress in the closet? There's no room in here to stand, much less any light to see what I'm doing!"
"Yes, but the true warrior must learn to see even where sight cannot be had. Or something."
"I hate you."
"Ah, such a great bond we have…"
After some shouting, moaning, blinking, gasping and strangling of relatives, the boy was finally dressed in the green tunic, hood and boots he was always forced to wear, with an old sword and equally ancient shield strapped onto his back. He placed his hands on his waist and puffed his chest out, and, for a second, it looked like wind was blowing his golden hair around.
"Ready for today's training session, Link?" His uncle asked, obviously rhetorically. Just about every single day, the boy refused to practice. It was rather bizarre, really, that such a skilled young boy didn't enjoy swordplay, however good he was at it. Indeed, for an eleven year old or even for a twenty year old, Link was a great fighter.
"No -"
"Good, good. Let's get started then, shall we?"
"No -"
"Onward! To the practice room!"
Link gave a sigh of defeat, shook his head and followed his uncle out of his room and into the main room of the little house: the training room. All it was was a large, empty room with a few different weapons lined here and there on the walls, though most of them looked more like antiques than tools of war.
"Are you ready, Link?" The uncle took one of the few non-rusty swords off of the wall – a long, curved blade – and got into a fighting stance, his free hand beckoning for his nephew to come closer. The boy shook his head, and the uncle got out of the stance to scold the boy; a foolish move.
Pretending to not want to fight was some sort of technique with Link, since you could never be sure if he meant it or not, being the lazy child he is. This time, however, he didn't mean it. He quickly drew the sword from his back, leapt forward, and thrust toward the man, but pulled his blade back before his uncle's came to block, then rolled in a half circle until he was behind his teacher, leaping into the air in a ball, sword swinging around randomly.
The longer sword made all the right parries and stopped its wielder from getting anywhere near hit, but the time it took his uncle to retaliate and attack was enough for Link, as he ducked under his legs and came out behind him again, sword swinging for his shoulder. Such dangerous practice! His uncle's sword came to parry and executed the parry well, so the angered boy decided to go all out, to tire his teacher, enemy and uncle.
Clang, clang clang! Clang clang!
His uncle did start to tire; but not before he knocked the weapon straight out of Link's hand! Reacting quickly, the boy rolled backwards, back flipped and landed, catching his sword before it hit the ground. And stumbling into a fall on his face.
"Impressi – err – semi-impressive!" The man called as he charged at his nephew, sword leading the way. Just at the right second, Link kicked his legs up to have his feet meet his uncle's elbows and send him sprawling onto his back and rolling backwards painfully. "If your mother knew how violently we trained -"
"Then she'd probably kill you,"
"Your mother isn't quite a master sword wielder either."
"Either? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, you know," he gave his nephew a dangerous wink, which made Link nod then growl angrily.
"Is that supposed to be a challenge?"
"It is what you believe it is,"
Growling still, the eleven year charged at his uncle, who was now back off of the ground and in a defensive position, his sword out horizontally in front of himself. He wasn't anticipating Link's next move. Switching from defense to attack, the man pushed his blade outwards when his nephew came near, trying to trip him. But Link was already in the air, jumping as high as he possibly could and coming down with two hands clutching his sword - which was in line for his uncle's head.
He figured something was wrong when the boy leapt so he quickly kicked upwards, the wooden sandal on his right foot flying into the air and making direct contact with Link's head, making him move himself and the sword out of their previous position. Link's uncle spun around to watch his nephew fall hard onto the ground and lose grip on his sword, which flew across the room with a clatter.
"And that is that,"
"I'm hungry," Link, still on the ground and covered in bruises, whined as if nothing just happened. His uncle had his turn of shaking his head and sighing, and the boy eventually just fell asleep on the ground, in the exact same spot, as his uncle left the room.
* * * *
"There's a human village over there!" The arriving Miniblin - a shorter, darker colored, horned version of the Bokoblin - announced in the strange guttural language that all goblinoids knew well, stopping in front of his tribe leader, a tall and ominous figure; a Moblin. The bigger, lighter-black pig demon snorted and gave a laugh, making the small monster back away slowly, ears lowering and eyes widening.
"Of course there is a human village over there," Brunt McSmash scolded, "More than a mere village! It is the capital of the whole country we stand in, foolish young one!" As the little beast continued to back away, the two spear-wielding Bokoblins at the door crossed their spears to make sure he couldn't leave the tree house that served as the chief's home.
"I-I'm sorry, sir! I have never gone that far from our home! I was hoping that – I was hoping that it would be wise information!"
"Well your hopes were wrong, weren't they, Aro?" The huge monster snorted again, making the Miniblin – Aro – back away again, forgetting that his exit was blocked. Because of that, Chief Brunt thrust an arm out and grabbed Aro by the throat, pulling him until their faces were a mere inch away from each other, which included lifting the little imp off of the ground. "Weren't they?"
"Y-yes, sire!"
"And you know how we don't like false dreams, don't you?"
"Y-yes sire!"
"And you know that I'm in a bad mood, don't you?"
"Y-yes sire!"
"And you know that I'm going to throw you out the window, don't you?"
"Y-ye -" The Miniblin was airborne for a few seconds, as he was sent out of the square hole that served as the only window in the chief's home, flailing his arms about and screaming loudly. One of the guards – both of them now with their spears right in front of them instead of crossed – winced at the sound of Aro colliding with a tree, and gulped when he saw that Brunt noticed the wincing.
"And you know that I feel like throwing more things around, don't you?"
Author's Note: This chapter was pretty short, too, and I don't like it too much. Oh well. Maybe the less seriousness (yet purposely-lameness) of this chapter will get one of you evil people to review - * BRICK *