Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. They belong to Nintendo, I believe... at least that's what the instruction booklet to 'The Windwaker' says. I'm just borrowing them for a bit, and the Link from the 'OOT' and 'MM'. There is also mention of events from 'Soul Caliber 2', which I own none of the characters, items, or events. Enjoy the fic, even though I have reason to believe it will be hell of a lot darker than the games themselves are.
Rating: R, for Language, Violence, and most likely Sexual references and/or scenes. We'll see how it turns out.
A/N: This is my first non- Buffy fanfic, and I have to thank the writers on FF.net for inspiring me to try my hand with Link. As much as I love Buffy fics, Zelda has always been my first love. Also note, most of this first chapter is taken right from the introduction and beginning portion to 'Windwaker'. I did make Onset Island a little bigger than it really is in the game, but that was mainly to give a bit more flavor to the storyline.
Title: Matchbox 20, with 'Back to Good'
*****
Long ago, there existed a kingdom where a golden power lay hidden. One day, a man of great evil found this power and took it for himself, and with it at his command, he spread darkness across the kingdom. But then... just as all hope had died, a young boy clothed in green appeared as if from nowhere. Wielding a blade that repelled evil, he sealed away the dark one away and gave the land light. This boy, who traveled through time to save the land, was known as the Hero of Time. The boy's tale was passed down through generations until it became legend.
And then a day came when a fell wind began to blow across the kingdom, and the great evil once again crept forth from the depths of the earth. The people believed that the Hero of Time would again come to save them. But the hero did not appear...
What became of that kingdom...? None who remain know. The memory of the kingdom vanished, but it's legend survived on the wind's breath.
On a certain island, it became customary to garb young boys in green when they came of age. Clothed in the green of fields, they aspire to find heroic blades and cast evil down. The elders wish only for the youths to know courage like the hero of legend.
For one boy, who unknowingly bore the same name as the Hero of Time, chance and fate weaved a test of courage and conviction that would crush most men. He was but a boy, and could not hope to prevail. Yet his courage would awaken a power that had lay dormant for thousands of years, and send a beacon throughout the planes....
*****
"Big brother!" a young girl cried out, slowly piercing the layers of heavy sleep that lay easily upon the young man. He slowly blinked away sleep as his left hand ran through his unruly blond hair. With an annoyed grunt, he rose to his feet and looked at the much younger girl.
"Have you forgotten what day it is?" She asked, her hands holding her favorite toy, a spyglass, behind her back. Her hair, as golden as his own, was tied in two pigtails. The shapeless dress she wore showed signs of dirt and grass, evidence that she had been at play for some time.
"What day is it, Aryll?" he asked, his voice hinting at his barely hidden annoyance. His younger sister had been the bane of his existence for the last few years, always telling his grandmother when he was skipping chores, or sneaking around the bridge that lead to the tallest summit on the island.
"It's you're birthday, silly!"
"What?!" in all honesty, he had forgotten what day it was. Every day was pretty much the same for him. He usually did his chores in the morning, and then found various ways to amuse himself. And now, his fifteenth birthday was, well, here.
"Grandma's been waiting for you all morning, silly!" she said with obvious glee. "You'd better run over there now, so she doesn't get mad at you!"
"Thanks," he snorted softly. He glanced around, remembering that he had fallen asleep on the top of the lookout tower that the islanders kept around. There really wasn't a reason for it, since there was very little on the island that made it a choice for pirates to raid. With a mischievous grin, he hopped onto the low railing.
"What are you doing, Link?" Aryll asked, fear on her voice. With only a wink as an answer, he dove off the railing.
It was a long drop to the water below, almost a hundred feet. Link wasn't worried, however. He knew how deep the water ran, and knew he wouldn't hit anything below the surface of the water. Arcing his back slightly and bracing his arms above his head, he broke the surface cleanly. With strong, confident strokes, he made his way to the shoreline in front of his house.
Link was the only boy on the island of his age. The closest in age to him was a boy named Merri, who was still four years younger. There were a few girls about a year older than him, but they constantly sought the attentions of the older boys, never so much as glancing Link's way. He had grown up with no real friends, a serious and deep thinking young man.
He pulled himself onto the beach in front of his house, shaking the salt water from his hair as he quickly made his way to the front door. Without much real thought, he pulled his wet shirt off and put on the dry shirt he always kept by the door. His grandmother didn't like wet shirts, and he could talk his way around the wet shorts he wore.
He opened the door, resigned to the events of the day that he knew would be beyond his control. He couldn't have known how far beyond his control they would be...
*****
On a previously uninhabited island to the north of Onset Island....
I cursed the goddesses for what they had done to me. My whole life, I fought to preserve the land I loved, in the name of the woman I loved. I had faced evils that no man should ever have to face. I traveled the corridors of time to face my enemy; and traveled worlds to face an evil far beyond the comfortable confines of my home. All because I was the only one who could face those evils. I had lost so much, and it was all for naught...
I returned to my world to find that countless years had passed. The oceans had swallowed the familiar landscape of my homeland, and had washed away any traces of the kingdom I had risked my life for. I was the one the people prayed for, but I had no way to return in time to face the returned evil that was Gannon.
Something had happened to him, something that turned his victory into a draw. No longer did Hyrule stand as a kingdom, but Gannon's rule was prevented. I had no idea what had happened, but I no longer cared. I had sacrificed everything, and had gained nothing.
The island I found myself on upon the return to my world was where I built my new home. A small boat was my only means of transportation, should I desire to travel to the island of Windfall to trade. I no longer sought to interact with people, instead seeking solitude for the remainder of my days.
The blade I had won in the other world was stored in a chest that was hidden behind a wall in my basement, along with the other gear that remained from my days of adventure. My cloths that had marked me as the Hero of Time rested with them, folded neatly with the intention of never wearing them again. I became known as the hermit Vaans, and I buried my memories with long days of hard work, just to survive. I mostly fished, and kept a small farm of vegetables behind my small home. In what spare time I had, mostly when the nightmares returned, I carved figures from wood. I sold these at Windfall Island, and used the money to purchase supplies that I couldn't make myself.
And so two years passed, and I grew complacent in the peace that was my daily life. The Hero of Time was dead; Link was gone as surely as the Princess Zelda he loved. Only the hermit Vaans remained.
*****
Windfall Island, three days after the fifteenth birthday of the younger Link...
It's strange how the past comes to bite you on the ass. When you least expect it, the past you seek to avoid rears her sometimes ugly head and smiles.
I was on Windfall Island, for the first time in almost a month. I had brought with me a large number of carved figures, had had earned almost five-hundred rupees for my work. It was my largest sale, well, ever, and I bought everything I needed with quite a few rupees remaining in my purse. I figured, what the hell, and went to the small bar on the island. It wasn't often I felt the need to drink, but tonight was just one of those nights. The nightmares had been especially bad of late.
I was left to myself, as was usual for the few times I had visited the bar. A few sailors, between jobs, drank rather noisily at the bar. The locals sat at the tables, talking and drinking fairly quietly among themselves. The door opened, and in walked a vision from my past, only this time I was the observer.
A young man, a boy really, walked in. He was clad in green, a spitting image of my own youth. He wore a sword strapped to his back, and the shield he also carried bore a striking resemblance to the Hylian shield I still possessed. By the Three, not again. Not another youth made to sacrifice for this world.
I slipped out of the bar as he talked to the sailors, leaving enough to cover my drinks and a decent tip besides. I didn't need this, not now.
As I walked to the docks and my small vessel, I spotted a strange one-man boat in a small inlet. Curiosity got the better of me, and I walked over to investigate. The boat was well made, but lacked a sail. I knew at once this was what the boy sought, and that this was his boat. I had rarely been this sure of anything in my life.
"It would do you good to step away from the boat," a voice whispered on the evening breeze. My hand dropped to the small dagger I carried as my eyes scanned the shadows of the alcove, seeking the speaker. When I couldn't see one, my eyes turned to the boat.
"Show yourself," I said, my voice calm and cold.
"You're looking at me," this time I could see the face of the Lion move. A talking boat.
"This boy isn't ready," I said, my voice low and weaker than my previous statement.
"He must be," the boat replied. "There is no other that can do what needs to be done."
"He isn't ready," I repeated, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
"Unless you know someone better suited for the task," the boat continued, "He has to be."
I walked to my own boat, lost in the memories and the pain.
*****
Two weeks later....
No matter how I tried to ignore it, I could feel the darkness ride the winds. It felt so familiar, and threatened my already tenuous hold on sanity. I knew, in my heart, what it meant. My head wouldn't listen, and I continued to live as I had for the last two years.
The nightmares continued, unabated, and I carved almost every hour of every night. Sleep found me only when I could barely stand. I was a wreck, and I knew it. There wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. I was afraid.
Then, one morning, there was a soft knock on my door. Rising unsteadily from my bed, I walked to the door and threw it open, unprepared for the sight before me.
There he stood, the young 'hero', bringing back images that haunted my dreams and terrorized my waking hours. The soft green of his clothing, the confident stance as he met my gaze, all brought back reminders of my own youth. How naive I once was...
"What do you want?" I asked, my voice hoarse and demanding.
"I'm looking for maps to a treasure," the boy said, his voice cracking briefly. "The lost pieces of the Triforce."
I had heard that one of the original three pieces of the Triforce had been broken, and scattered to the winds. How could I not? These were stories that were spread during my absence from this world. The people talked about the Hero of Time, and how he hadn't been there when he was needed. His name was cursed in some places, as if he had abandoned the world. If they only knew the truth.
"I can't help you," I said briskly. "Get off my island."
The boy looked at me, his eyes reading more than I would have liked. He turned and walked to his boat. I was left to my own demons as he sailed into the sun...
*****
One week later....
"There's an ill wind blowing," the bartender said to me as he handed me the drink. Taking a sip, I knew it was what I needed right now. Maybe if I drank enough, the voices from my past would stop...
For the last week, I had thought of nothing but what the boy had said. The Triforce. Seeking it's power. But for what reason? Why did he need that kind of power? What evil had arisen that needed that great a sacrifice?
I merely nodded to the barkeep, sipping my drink slowly. After all, what could I do? I was a fallen hero, my time was passed. What could I do?
"They say that the Dark Man has returned," a man at the other end of the bar said. "The same one that the Hero of Time defeated."
"Bah," an old man, his head bald, spat. "If the Hero of Time had done the job right, we wouldn't be having these problems."
I never heard the rest of the conversation. I knew how it ended, anyways. It was engraved upon my heart, and burned into my soul. I sailed back to my sanctuary, back to my solitude.
******
Two days later...
I awoke that day, knowing everything was about to change for me. When I opened my door, the sight that greeted me that morning. In that moment, I knew what I had to do, and my mind was made up before the choice was really presented to me.
The young boy lay on his back, the waves lapping at his booted feet. Raw wounds crossed his chest and arms, obviously the cause of his lack of consciousness. His shield hung from his left arm, sundered as if struck by a heavy blow. His sword was missing, as was three fingers on his right hand.
Without thought I carefully lifted him from the water and carried him to my bed. I bandaged his wounds, and stored his gear in a small chest by the foot of my bed. I knew he would sleep for some time, but I left food and water within easy reach for when he awoke. There was very little else I could do to help him. His survival was in the hands of the Goddesses.
I walked outside, noting the storm clouds that encroached from the east. My bare feet were soon cooled by the same water that had presumably carried him to the shore of my home. My mind wasn't on the present, rather, it wandered the past, seeking the hero I once was.
"Will he live?" a voice I recognized asked me. It was the boy's boat. I hadn't noticed it's approach. Considering the thoughts rampaging through my mind, that was expected.
"Maybe," I answered. "It will take time."
"He doesn't have time," the boat said wearily. This voice sounded so much like one in my past, one that on occasion haunted my dreams. "If he cannot recover soon, the world will be plunged into darkness."
"He's done," I said calmly, sounding more like my old self than I had in a long time.
"It cannot end this way!" the boat said, it's voice rising. "He is the only one who can stand against Gannon now."
I didn't answer, merely turned and walked back into my house. The accusing voice followed me inside, until it was cut off by my door.
I looked at the boy for long minutes before I decided to follow through with what needed to be done. A part of myself I thought long dead rose up from the ashes of the past and came to the fore. I hadn't felt this whole in a very long time, and supposed that I hadn't been. It's strange, sometimes, how much I defined myself by the strength of the obstacles I had surpassed.
I walked into my basement and pressed the hidden trigger by the door. Soundlessly, the false wall swung outward, revealing the chest I had hidden away two years ago. Shedding my shirt and shorts, I opened the chest; opened the door to my past and my true self.
I put my clothing on for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime. If anything, they fit me better now. I had always been lean, and the life of a hermit doesn't lend itself to gluttony. I stretched experimentally, feeling the same agility and speed in my limbs, begging to be used. A small smile spread across my bearded face.
Walking to my bathroom, I shaved quickly. I can't rightly say why I did this, except that it felt right. Clean shaven, I walked back to the basement, where I finished dressing. The boots felt strange on my feet, and considering that it was the first time I had worn anything on my feet in two years, I guess that was to be expected.
With a small sigh, I began pulling my gear out of the chest and storing them in their accustomed spots. My bow and arrows, hook-shot, bombs, and boomerang, among other things. Items I had hoped I would never need again. After a few moments, all that remained was my weapons.
The sword, my prize from another world, was sheathed at my side. The blade was too long draw from a sheath on my back. The mirrored shield did go on my back, completing the ensemble, save for one small thing.
My earrings, blessed by Zelda in ages past, were once again hanging from my long ears. I once again looked the part of the hero, once again ready to embark on a quest to face the evils of the world. I walked out my front door after writing the boy a note, explaining what was happening.
I closed the door softly, then turned to face the boat. If wood could show surprise, I'm sure that was what would be plainly painted on that rugged countenance.
"You're... the Hero of Time..."
"And you're the King of Hyrule," I knew that voice, and was certain in my guess,
He was silent for a moment, seemingly contemplating the simple revelations that had been shared. In all honesty, it really didn't matter to me.
"Tell me what is happening," I said calmly as I readied the boat to sail.
"Gannon has returned, and is seeking the Triforce pieces he lacks," the boat began. "The Triforce of Courage and the Triforce of Wisdom."
"As expected," I murmured.
"Before you seek the pieces of the shattered Triforce of Courage, the Master Sword must be retrieved, and the two remaining Sages must be returned to power."
"I don't need the Master Sword this time," I said, much to the boat's surprise.
"But that is the only blade that can harm him."
"You are wrong there," I replied. "Perhaps later, I can fully answer the questions that raises, but now is no the time."
"So, will you aid the sages first, or recover the Triforce of Courage?" he asked.
"The Triforce," I answered calmly. I closed my eyes and cleared my mind, suddenly aware of something that shouldn't have been.
"Let's go then," he said, but I paid him no heed. Instead, I sent out a call with my heart and soul.
Return to me.
How long I stood there, repeating my call to the winds, I do not know. Nor did it matter. Days could have passed, but it didn't matter. Finally, born upon the winds, my reply came.
I come, Hero of Time.
There could be no doubt, the Triforce had answered my summons, and was returning to me. Ages had passed since I was the guardian of the Triforce of Courage, but it still knew me. It still answered my call.
From the northern sky, a shimmering ray of gold streaked towards the island, towards me. I knew what it was, but the King of Hyrule had no idea. His cry of warning was ignored as I held my right hand up, the palm facing inward. As the golden ray struck my hand, I felt the other pieces racing towards me.
The sun had set by the time the last piece of the Triforce of Courage had returned. The boat had long since fallen into an awed silence, amazed by the power I seemed to wield. And yet... it wasn't my power, never had been. It was the power of the piece of the Triforce I guarded. It sought the one who could protect it from Gannon, as it had those long years ago.
"It is done," I said quietly when the last shard melded into my flesh.
"There is one thing we must do first," he said quietly. "The boy's sister is being held captive on Forsaken Fortress, along with a dozen other girls. Gannon seeks the one who continues the line of Zelda, and the Triforce of Courage."
"Does he have her yet?"
"No," he answered. "I have a clue as to who it is, but she is free right now. We must rescue the other girls. They are innocent in this."
"Alright," I said, climbing into the boat and raising the sail. "By the way, what is the boy's name?"
"Link," the King of Hyrule answered.
"Figures," I muttered with a small smile. I knew that the name often ended up marking heroes, as it had marked me. I wasn't the first to wear the name and save the Triforce, and apparently, nor was I the last.
"He will grow to be a good man," the King of Hyrule said softly.
"If I fail," I began quietly, "Have him retrieve the Master Sword. He would be the last hope."
"Are you planning for failure," he asked, shocked.
"No," I said with a small laugh. "I no longer have illusions of my invulnerability."
The boat nodded as I raised the sail and set away from my home. I was once again Link, the Hero of Time. With my Oricana manipulating the winds, I sped to the Forsaken Fortress, and my first fight in two years.
*****