Chapter 2: 5 Years Later…
Sean opened his eyes, only to see the dreary dark walls of his shared room. He sat up in his cot and yawned, running his fingers through his pure white hair. He glanced at the window, only a black sky to stare back; the red sun yet to rise. Sean got out of the cot and walked barefoot to the large door, opposite of where he slept. He put his hand on the handle and looked back at the others. Not a sound came from them apart from the occasional sleepy moan and the movement of someone rolling over in uneasy slumber.
Seeing that they were all still asleep, he opened the door and tried to keep its rusty creaking down. He poked his head out into the torch lit, black walled hall; it was empty. Satisfied, Sean slid by the door and pulled it shut behind him. He knelt to the ground —something he did every time he was about to sneak out— and lowered his ear to the stone to listen for someone approaching in the hall. Nothing, except for the pounding of his racing heart in his throat and ears. Standing, he then set off down the hall, careful not to make too much noise. He wanted to be somewhere where he could be alone and find some fresh air.
His trek brought him to two glass doors that led to a balcony, one he visited on his off-time—when he could get it. The black strips that held the glass panels together twisted and coiled like Skulltula webbing and were textured like bone. The handle was once —perhaps— gold, but now it was scorched black and no longer shone in brilliance. The black spines of the door melded into the black hallway, depth an insensible thing. Torches lined the hall at long intervals, but wherever they were placed, they did little to chase away the shadows which would soon engulf the light.
Once again, Sean touched the handle and looked about; hoping a Moblin or a Lizalfos wouldn't come by. Relieved that none were around, he clicked the door open and shut it softly; glancing up to make sure none were running to see who had moved a door. He let a sigh escape from his mouth, shoulders sagging. He couldn't keep this little hide-and-seek ploy up for long. He was soon to get caught for sneaking out of the Slave Chamber before sun rise.
He leaned on the black railing with his arms crossed and rested his chin on his arms. He looked out at the dead landscape before him, but could only see the silhouettes of dead trees and distant remains of destroyed buildings. Ever since he was brought to this dark fortress on the shoulder of a six foot tall lizard, he had never left its walls.
An early morning breeze kicked up and blew his hair around as a thin red line appeared over the crests of the distant mountains; the mountain range receded into the distance from where he stood, but almost backed the fortress on the side opposite of his position. Morning was approaching and the rest would wake soon. He gave a sigh.
Sean was a young boy of twelve and just one of the many slaves of the dark fortress. He had pure white hair and ice blue eyes that made him look cold when he really wasn't. This had been something that had set him apart from all others since he was born and upon his arrival, people distanced themselves from him. He had become a slave when Link had caught him five years ago. Why Link had chosen him and not his father or another adult was still unknown and Sean never pressed the matter in fear of a brutal beating for being curious. Such actions were forbidden. Though he wasn't beaten as much as the other slaves, his were more painful and he could barely crawl into his bed afterward.
He remembered when he lived in his home village with his father and the three other men he considered his uncles. He remembered the freedom he once took for granted. He remembered how it felt to have that all taken away in the blink of an eye. The last he had seen of his father was when the first screams were heard from the Lizalfos attack and his father had told him to run for cover and then ran off himself.
That had been one of the worst moments of his life; when everyone he knew was killed by the very man that had saved them from a falling moon many years earlier. Why Link had done so was also a mystery and Sean never pressed that either—then again, no one was probably going to tell him anything anyway. The boy had considered running away man times but never did. He didn't know the land or its dangers and decided it best not to ask. After all, slaves weren't supposed to know those things or more less anything for that matter.
Sean shivered in his brown long sleeved-shirt and pants. It was chilly outside, especially at the height he was at and this early in the morning. He was only on the fortress' third level but it was built on a hill and that put it up even higher. His head sunk a bit between his shoulders, in hopes of feeling a little warmer.
His icy eyes looked down about the cracked ground that spread out before him. It was once covered in grass; Sean vaguely remembered that. The dried, dead, skeletons of trees cast strange, crooked, shadows on the dead earth; resembling long gnarled fingers reaching out for life so they could destroy it. To Sean, the landscape almost perfectly reflected Link's soul; cold, barren, and dead.
"What are you doing out here?" a deep voice asked suddenly, causing Sean to whip around in fear and surprise.
There, behind him, stood a huge muscular Moblin. It was a wonder on where they got pants to fit around its bulky frame, but that was an irrelevant question to the current situation. Its two protruding lower jaw fangs glistened in the red light as the first rays of red shone over the mountain peaks; its small beady black eyes glittered with malice. It was easy for Sean to see what the large bull-dog looking creature wanted to do to his hide.
"Answer, slave!" it bellowed.
"I-I was just getting some-some fresh air," Sean stuttered, not knowing what to say other than the truth.
"Fresh air," the Moblin repeated, it seemed to ponder that reply for awhile. "You came out here for fresh air." Its tone was beginning to become mocking. "Keep that up and I'll put you somewhere where you'll only dream of having air to breathe!"
Sean was backed up full against the railing, any further and he'd be over the edge. The Moblin stepped onto the balcony, standing at its full height. The belt it wore was lined with studded spikes as with the rims of its boots. Wrapped around its hand was a long leather whip, each of the four tails ended with a sliver sharp piece of metal. Every muscle in Sean's body tensed when he heard the sound of the leather stretching as the Moblin pulled on it just for the look on his face. Large blood vessels held themselves higher than the surrounding muscle on the Moblin's large arms; showing off its brute, raw strength to the small child. The whip uncoiled from the Moblin's hand and fell to the black stone floor. It held its hand back, ready to strike and Sean cringed up.
"Slaves that are where they don't belong will be punished," it said with cold glee, beginning to bring its arm over in an arc.
Sean closed his eyes and awaited impact, but it never came. He reopened an eye to see Link standing there, holding the Moblin's strong arm back with one hand. Compared to the Moblin, Link looked scrawny, but Sean kept that inside. Link held the heavily muscled Moblin's arm back with one of his thinner arms without any effort. It was an amazing thing to see whether Link was an evil emperor or not. How Link was able to pull off such a feat with his much smaller muscled arms was unknown, but then he wasn't about to tell anyone either.
The Moblin was standing in dead surprise, its jaw dropped and staring at its Master. Link simply looked back with one of his cold smirks.
"M-M-Mas-Master," the Moblin stammered.
"What do you think you are doing?" Link asked in his coldly, calm voice.
"I-I was going to punish this slave for being out of the chamber before dawn, Master," it replied.
"You are right in saying that he was out before the desired time, but what exactly was he doing that was so heavily wrong?" Link continued to question, a certain malicious spark going off in his eyes; Sean knew it all too well.
"He was," the Moblin stopped for a second, thinking that its Master would probably think he was lying —it swallowed to moisten its horribly dried throat—, "getting fresh air."
"Fresh air," Link repeated, raising an eyebrow; corner of his mouth twitching ever-so-slightly.
"Yes, Master."
Sean couldn't help but smile a little at the situation, but it quickly disappeared when Link threw the Moblin —with one hand— through the doors and it crashed into the other side of the hallway. Link's eyes seemed to be alive with blue fire that disappeared after the Moblin hit the wall.
"Fool!" Link spat. "You forget your place."
The Moblin bowed its head though still on the ground; pieces of the wall falling down around it. "Yes, Master," it pleaded. "Please forgive me."
Link crossed his arms; Sean watching the muscles in Link's arms twitch as he held back the urge to tear the creature apart on the spot.
"Normally I would've killed you, but today I'll let it slide," he said, the effort to hold back as obvious as the veins in his throat beginning to surface a little. "Go make sure the others get to their duties. Do what you want if they get out of line as long as death is not the result."
"Right away, Master," the Moblin said standing, giving a bow, and disappearing down the hall.
Sean froze when Link's eyes rested on him after the Moblin's dismissal and gulped looking into Link's usual cold glare; he was in one of his moods.
"Don't think more of it," he snapped. "The last thing I need is all my workers dead." With that, Link turned on his heel and was through the door before Sean could even blink.
Link had changed some since Sean had first seen him five years ago. He was nearing his thirties and stood a little over six feet tall. He also wore the same outfit he had when Sean had first seen him. It almost appeared like it grew with him but Sean shook the thought off. All this curiosity would soon cost him his life.
The red sun had now cleared the peaks and bathed everything in its blood-red glow. Sean leaned against the railing on his side. Already noises from within floated in the air through the open broken door. He'd have to go back inside soon and head for the Lizalfos quarters. His job there was to monitor the lizards' brawls and arguments —make sure they didn't get too violent— and report it all to Link for later evaluation—as if Link cared if they all killed themselves. He had gotten so used to seeing blood that it didn't matter much to him anymore. He saw slaughtered, mangled bodies many times everyday; as he had that day five long years in the past. The lizards could never seem to agree with each other on anything, but that wasn't any of Sean's concern.
Sean sighed and went back inside. As he walked down the halls, he decided that he was going to run away or die trying. He didn't want to be inside the black walls any longer.
Other creatures and humans in the halls moved away from Sean as he went through. They either stopped at his passing, ran in the direction they were heading in, or running in the opposite. Sean simply dismissed it all since he could care less now. No one talked to him or helped him when he was in pain—all but one person that is— and he was beginning to enjoy a life like that. His stride was brisk, threatening to run down anyone who did not get out of his path; luckily for them all that they did.
As he turned the corner to the Lizalfos chambers, he stopped. One question just kept playing itself in his mind over and over. Why did Link save his life?