Disclaimer: Ok, I guess everyone puts one of these in here, so here's
mine. I obviously don't own Zelda or Link or any other characters thought
up by Miyamoto, or anything else Legend of Zelda related. I just like to
write about them.
Chapter 1
"Tunnels seem to go on forever in the dark," I think aloud. "Dark, cold, and wet... the average tunnel for the average price!" Though I find myself amusing, my counterpart obviously ignores humor altogether. He just scoffs at me, never losing his pace. I grunt at my displeasing company and stomp childishly behind him.
"What the hell is wrong wi' you, kid? We are on a serious mission 'ere, an' all you can do is play around like some infant. Shut up an' walk." He continues to mumble his rantings under his breath, and I can't help but to mimic him. Luckily I am pretty fast on my feet, lest I would be knocked in the jaw when he attempts to backhand me. Prancing around my colleague like the fool that I am, I take the lead and wander a good ten feet ahead of him.
I enjoy the sound of my boots tapping lightly on the cool stone for a few minutes, that is until I realize that it's the only sound I hear. Whipping around, my eyes search frantically for the red speck of light from my counterpart's cigarette, but to no avail. Hearing no oncoming footsteps or his habitual grunting, I begin to worry about his whereabouts. The fact that I, a fourteen-year-old bounty hunter, am all alone in a dark cave with no means of light, warmth, or food [my partner has the pack] upsets me a little. I must admit that I sometimes fear the dark, especially when wandering in an endless tunnel where almost anything can happen. A cave with sharp rocks, dead ends, deep pools of stagnant, muddy water... and bugs. I sure hate bugs. I have ever since I defeated that Gohma creature.
"Keal," I call out to my comrade. "You're there, aren't you?" I hesitate in the hopes that a response will cause me relief, but only silence ensues. "Come on, Keal. Answer me!" I can feel my knees begin to shake a bit, and the very air seems heavier. Thoughts of death in an endless darkness aren't very appetizing at the moment. I feel as though my nerves are about to go—
"Hey, kid!" At no other moment have I jumped higher, nearly hitting my head on the cave ceiling while Keal laughs a storm behind me. "You sure are easy to start up! Maybe you should stay home wi' your mommy next time, boy!"
"You really shouldn't sneak up on people, Keal, much less wander off and leave them. I mean, it's not like I was—"
"Shut up, sissy boy. We're almost 'ere." I hadn't even noticed that we were still moving. Finally, a tiny speck of light lay up ahead, an end to all this darkness. Fresh air. Dry land. Soft grass. My imagination was cut short, however, when we reached the opening of the cave to find, basically, a desert. We both stare into the open nothingness a moment, finally able to see more than the tip of a cigarette. Keal looks a bit dirtier than usual, probably from all that moisture in the caves. His mustache, almost reminiscent of Ingo's but messier, is dripping in sweat. His red shirt, with neat u-shape soaked in sweat as well, emphasizes the bit of stomach that hangs over his waistline. The only things not soaked in sweat are his rugged brown pants and short, black-leather boots. He looks like a regular beauty queen.
"What're you smirkin' at, kid?" A quirked eyebrow and tightly pursed mouth tell me I'd better change the subject. I kick at the ground until I can come up with something exceptionally intelligent to reply with.
"Nice weather out here, eh?" Alright, it's not the wittiest thing I've ever said, but it works, nonetheless.
"Shut your trap."
"No, seriously, who are we going after this time?" I try to act as though I care.
"I told you already."
"Well, tell me again. I forget." Actually, I think he mumbles everything when I'm not paying attention, but he doesn't really need to know that.
"Korpus Hellpahrn, he's a regular at the inn o'er in Farheim." I just can't help myself.
"A regular, eh? So he drinks a lot, then?" Almost getting smacked in the jaw a second time tells me when to quit. Backing off, I brush imaginary dirt from the front of my tunic, pretending not to be affected.
"No, stupid. He's the leader of a band of bloody thieves. We have to bring 'im in so he doesn't rob the poor man anymore. Get it?"
"Sure, sure," I say, straightening the bottom of my tunic. It seems that, no matter how cheap the material, a tunic is always convenient. Loose- fitting for movement, tight enough so that it doesn't catch on anything, and all around comfy. Not to mention, green is totally my color.
I finally find the time to realize that we are, once again, walking. I stay a bit behind, pondering the meaning of life and such, while he stumbles ahead, probably thinking of the next restaurant to terrorize. How I got stuck with this guy for a partner, I'll never understand. I used to be a termed "hero" for crying out loud, and now it's down to eating two- week-old leftovers from a low-class tavern with the bell of the roughneck ball. How lucky for me.
"There it is," he states rather abruptly, causing me to almost lose my footing. "Would you calm down!? Goddesses, if you weren't accustomed to blinking you would lose your head!"
"What is that supposed to mean? I merely tripped on a, um, rock, thingie," I say, lightly kicking at the dirt below, which I notice is completely void of rocks.
"Yeah, yeah, right, sure. You're a freakin' wuss." So I startle easily, it's not my fault. He stomps ahead toward a tiny little setup that slightly resembles a camp. No more than five tents stand in a circle around a pitifully small campfire. Crouching behind a wooden crate about twenty feet from the nearest tent, Keal motions to me to do the same. Not missing a beat, I stroll confidently past him toward the tents, poking out my chest and swaying my arms almost violently in jest.
"What the hell're you doin'!? Get back 'ere!" I don't look back, trying to make my point very clear to him. Why should I listen to him? After all, I've fought monsters and probably the greatest evil there ever was; a few petty thieves should be nothing.
As I get closer to the center of the camp, I notice more and more tents on the other side of the original five I saw earlier. I also can't help but notice my pace steadily slowing to a halt just before I reach the campfire. Twelve, sixteen, twenty, twenty-eight; goddesses, there's a whole fleet of them. How could two people take in these guys? Now, I think to myself, would be a good time to back out of this place. I start staggering backward to where Keal is so cleverly hiding. Unfortunately, my progress comes to a deadly halt when I trip over some spare firewood, my back making a personal visit to the ground below. The sound of a branch snapping has always baffled me. How is it that, no matter the size of the branch, even the smallest twig breaking can awaken an entire army? Trust me, I have stepped on many a twig, and each time it has nearly been my undoing.
At least two to every tent, most of them fairly mean-looking, burly men, pop out of the once silent camp and make their way towards Keal and me. Completing a habit which I have yet to break, I reach for an invisible sword on my back, and, finding nothing there, begin to scramble toward Keal's hiding place. It doesn't take long for me to reach the crate, imminent death being quite the motivation. Astonishingly, Keal is nowhere in sight. Vanished. Competely disappeared without a trace. He deserted me, probably to teach me a lesson, as he usually does. His lessons have earned me a lovely scar on the side of my face, a small cut in my left ear, and plenty of broken bones and bruises. I can't even begin to think of this week's prize.
-------
A/N: Well, Raiyne is back at it again, writing about Zelda stuffs... Well, sort of. NEwho, I could really use some reviews, and reviews make me want to write more hint, hint. No reviews, no continuity. Oooh, big word. Score five points for Slytherin. Go me.
Chapter 1
"Tunnels seem to go on forever in the dark," I think aloud. "Dark, cold, and wet... the average tunnel for the average price!" Though I find myself amusing, my counterpart obviously ignores humor altogether. He just scoffs at me, never losing his pace. I grunt at my displeasing company and stomp childishly behind him.
"What the hell is wrong wi' you, kid? We are on a serious mission 'ere, an' all you can do is play around like some infant. Shut up an' walk." He continues to mumble his rantings under his breath, and I can't help but to mimic him. Luckily I am pretty fast on my feet, lest I would be knocked in the jaw when he attempts to backhand me. Prancing around my colleague like the fool that I am, I take the lead and wander a good ten feet ahead of him.
I enjoy the sound of my boots tapping lightly on the cool stone for a few minutes, that is until I realize that it's the only sound I hear. Whipping around, my eyes search frantically for the red speck of light from my counterpart's cigarette, but to no avail. Hearing no oncoming footsteps or his habitual grunting, I begin to worry about his whereabouts. The fact that I, a fourteen-year-old bounty hunter, am all alone in a dark cave with no means of light, warmth, or food [my partner has the pack] upsets me a little. I must admit that I sometimes fear the dark, especially when wandering in an endless tunnel where almost anything can happen. A cave with sharp rocks, dead ends, deep pools of stagnant, muddy water... and bugs. I sure hate bugs. I have ever since I defeated that Gohma creature.
"Keal," I call out to my comrade. "You're there, aren't you?" I hesitate in the hopes that a response will cause me relief, but only silence ensues. "Come on, Keal. Answer me!" I can feel my knees begin to shake a bit, and the very air seems heavier. Thoughts of death in an endless darkness aren't very appetizing at the moment. I feel as though my nerves are about to go—
"Hey, kid!" At no other moment have I jumped higher, nearly hitting my head on the cave ceiling while Keal laughs a storm behind me. "You sure are easy to start up! Maybe you should stay home wi' your mommy next time, boy!"
"You really shouldn't sneak up on people, Keal, much less wander off and leave them. I mean, it's not like I was—"
"Shut up, sissy boy. We're almost 'ere." I hadn't even noticed that we were still moving. Finally, a tiny speck of light lay up ahead, an end to all this darkness. Fresh air. Dry land. Soft grass. My imagination was cut short, however, when we reached the opening of the cave to find, basically, a desert. We both stare into the open nothingness a moment, finally able to see more than the tip of a cigarette. Keal looks a bit dirtier than usual, probably from all that moisture in the caves. His mustache, almost reminiscent of Ingo's but messier, is dripping in sweat. His red shirt, with neat u-shape soaked in sweat as well, emphasizes the bit of stomach that hangs over his waistline. The only things not soaked in sweat are his rugged brown pants and short, black-leather boots. He looks like a regular beauty queen.
"What're you smirkin' at, kid?" A quirked eyebrow and tightly pursed mouth tell me I'd better change the subject. I kick at the ground until I can come up with something exceptionally intelligent to reply with.
"Nice weather out here, eh?" Alright, it's not the wittiest thing I've ever said, but it works, nonetheless.
"Shut your trap."
"No, seriously, who are we going after this time?" I try to act as though I care.
"I told you already."
"Well, tell me again. I forget." Actually, I think he mumbles everything when I'm not paying attention, but he doesn't really need to know that.
"Korpus Hellpahrn, he's a regular at the inn o'er in Farheim." I just can't help myself.
"A regular, eh? So he drinks a lot, then?" Almost getting smacked in the jaw a second time tells me when to quit. Backing off, I brush imaginary dirt from the front of my tunic, pretending not to be affected.
"No, stupid. He's the leader of a band of bloody thieves. We have to bring 'im in so he doesn't rob the poor man anymore. Get it?"
"Sure, sure," I say, straightening the bottom of my tunic. It seems that, no matter how cheap the material, a tunic is always convenient. Loose- fitting for movement, tight enough so that it doesn't catch on anything, and all around comfy. Not to mention, green is totally my color.
I finally find the time to realize that we are, once again, walking. I stay a bit behind, pondering the meaning of life and such, while he stumbles ahead, probably thinking of the next restaurant to terrorize. How I got stuck with this guy for a partner, I'll never understand. I used to be a termed "hero" for crying out loud, and now it's down to eating two- week-old leftovers from a low-class tavern with the bell of the roughneck ball. How lucky for me.
"There it is," he states rather abruptly, causing me to almost lose my footing. "Would you calm down!? Goddesses, if you weren't accustomed to blinking you would lose your head!"
"What is that supposed to mean? I merely tripped on a, um, rock, thingie," I say, lightly kicking at the dirt below, which I notice is completely void of rocks.
"Yeah, yeah, right, sure. You're a freakin' wuss." So I startle easily, it's not my fault. He stomps ahead toward a tiny little setup that slightly resembles a camp. No more than five tents stand in a circle around a pitifully small campfire. Crouching behind a wooden crate about twenty feet from the nearest tent, Keal motions to me to do the same. Not missing a beat, I stroll confidently past him toward the tents, poking out my chest and swaying my arms almost violently in jest.
"What the hell're you doin'!? Get back 'ere!" I don't look back, trying to make my point very clear to him. Why should I listen to him? After all, I've fought monsters and probably the greatest evil there ever was; a few petty thieves should be nothing.
As I get closer to the center of the camp, I notice more and more tents on the other side of the original five I saw earlier. I also can't help but notice my pace steadily slowing to a halt just before I reach the campfire. Twelve, sixteen, twenty, twenty-eight; goddesses, there's a whole fleet of them. How could two people take in these guys? Now, I think to myself, would be a good time to back out of this place. I start staggering backward to where Keal is so cleverly hiding. Unfortunately, my progress comes to a deadly halt when I trip over some spare firewood, my back making a personal visit to the ground below. The sound of a branch snapping has always baffled me. How is it that, no matter the size of the branch, even the smallest twig breaking can awaken an entire army? Trust me, I have stepped on many a twig, and each time it has nearly been my undoing.
At least two to every tent, most of them fairly mean-looking, burly men, pop out of the once silent camp and make their way towards Keal and me. Completing a habit which I have yet to break, I reach for an invisible sword on my back, and, finding nothing there, begin to scramble toward Keal's hiding place. It doesn't take long for me to reach the crate, imminent death being quite the motivation. Astonishingly, Keal is nowhere in sight. Vanished. Competely disappeared without a trace. He deserted me, probably to teach me a lesson, as he usually does. His lessons have earned me a lovely scar on the side of my face, a small cut in my left ear, and plenty of broken bones and bruises. I can't even begin to think of this week's prize.
-------
A/N: Well, Raiyne is back at it again, writing about Zelda stuffs... Well, sort of. NEwho, I could really use some reviews, and reviews make me want to write more hint, hint. No reviews, no continuity. Oooh, big word. Score five points for Slytherin. Go me.