Roy sat upon a slab of warm stone, located in a far corner of Sparring Fields, baking in the rays of the brilliant sun. Around him were soft green grasses; flowing like an emerald ocean. The occasional tree dotted the landscape, and the sounds of a rushing river could be heard in the far off distance. Peaceful, without care, and without worry, Roy let himself be overcome by the solitude of his surroundings. The fight with Ganondorf had left him weary and defeated, but he walked away from the medical tent with a sense of awe. He had felt no disappointment by the loss, rather he felt fulfilled in having experienced the glory of fighting such a spectacular opponent. He hoped to fight Ganondorf again sometime, or perhaps fight with him against a common enemy. Feeling a grin cross his face, Roy basked in thoughts of great and honorable fighting. Upon the heated slab of stone, Roy's eyes grew heavy and he slipped into a dream world, a place all his own, filled with swords and combat.
After what seemed like hours, Roy was awoken by the sounds of battle. Groggily, he shifted his position, and through drowsy eyes looked upon the fight taking place. A small, blue, winged, spherical creature was fighting a group of three companions. The leader of the three appeared to be a tall swordsman clothed in green and brown leather armor, with a soft green cloak worn off his right shoulder, whose chestnut colored hair was tied back ion a ponytail. Supporting him was a fair-haired woman dressed in a red and white outfit with a white cape flowing about her shoulders. In her hands was a large crimson scythe, which was radiating waves of heat. Behind the first two stood a tall man dressed in a blue tunic and cape. His long, pale blue hair billowed about his body as he moved.
The small, sword wielding creature, despite being outnumbered three to one, seemed to be having little trouble holding his own. He flew at skillfully at high speeds, evading the onslaught of blades and magic his three opponents threw at him. The golden sword in his hand gleamed majestically as soared, delivering crashing blows at the brown-haired swordsman and the fair-haired scythe user. Effortlessly he dodged the icy spells directed at him by the blue-clad spell-caster, and counterattacked by executing precise, deadly attacks. The swordsman lifted his sword high into the air and yelled the word 'unleash'. As he did a massive black energy sword, about the size of a two story building, materialized in the sky above him and came crashing down on winged creature. The red-clad woman then rushed at the creature, scythe burning the air as she ran, as he worked to repel the black sword attack. Furthermore, the mage in blue let fly a storm of icebergs and torrential cyclones. The skilled little creature, it seemed, was finished.
Roy gaped in wonder at the spectacle before him. One small sword wielding creature was being simultaneously hit by three high powered attacks. In the midst of the chaos, Roy noticed the small creature's eye's flash a dull red. The next thing Roy knew, the diminutive fighter had vanished, and in his place was an absolutely enormous tornado, that was proceeding to tear up the fields, and the fighters, around him. Even at his distance, Roy had to brace himself against the sheer force of the winds. The three fighters caught in the attack though, were being destroyed, and it looked like they might not live through it. Yet the winds subsided, and the tornado disappeared, and where it the eye of the storm had once been, once again stood the powerful little creature, not a sign of fatigue or injury on him. Around the composed form of the winged creature, the three fighters fell. Wounded and on the brink of death, they lay upon the ground. The blue creature folded his wings about his body like a cloak, and strode towards Roy as six Wireframes ran towards the fallen fighters at maddening speed.
The fallen fighters were carried by the Wireframes to a distant medical tent, and Roy stood and beheld the form of the small creature in front of him. Eye's shining with respect; Roy spoke, voice heavy with awe. "That was awesome! You didn't even break a sweat, man. You fight with the stuff of legend; those three didn't even have a chance! Oh, I'm Roy by the way, Roy of Pherae."
"I known as Metaknight," breathed the small creature coolly, as he stared up at Roy, "I thank you for your praise. Young man, Roy of Pherae, I would challenge you. I witnessed your combat with the man known as Ganondorf, and if I may say so, I am impressed. Your sword is strong, and your heart is free of stain. I believe we could have a spectacular match."
"Yeah, I'll accept your challenge! You sure you wouldn't rather fight Ganondorf though, I mean, he did beat me after all."
"I considered that," Metaknight stated, matter-of-factly, "Ganondorf, while an impressive swordsman, has a heart wrought with darkness and forged through pain. I prefer to fight the noble and true. Beside the point though, I was unable to locate him. Regardless, it would please me greatly to be given the honor of dueling you, Roy of Pherae."
"Nah man, the honor is all mine," chuckled Roy, as his hand moved for his sword, "I'm sure we'll have an insane fight. I can't wait!"
"Then it is decided," declared Metaknight, "We will fight upon this soil and within this time. I pray the both of us resolve and health as we begin. Now, defend thy self!"
Metaknight sprang several feet back and drew his golden sword. Roy grinned happily as he drew his own sword, and swung it in several arcs. The two rushed at each other and their swords crashed loudly, sparks erupting from the blades. Several blows were exchanged between the two, each cleanly blocked by the other. The fight lasted all of fifteen seconds though, as an obstacle made its self present.
From a distant person, in the eastern direction, came pleas for aid. Upon hearing the pained voice call out across the lands, Roy and Metaknight immediately ceased fighting and turned to face the east. Metaknight swiftly unfurled his wings and threw a concerned look at Roy as he spoke. "Come young man, we must fly to the aid of those who call for it!"
"You said it, man, we have to help if we can," replied Roy resolutely, "You're faster than me though, so fly ahead. I'll catch up as soon as I possibly can."
"Then I shall," acknowledged Metaknight, "Speed be with you, Roy of Pherae!" Having given his blessing, Metaknight took to the skies and flew east as fast as his wings could carry him.
Roy, earthbound and determined not to be left behind, sheathed his sword and raced eastward as fast as his legs could carry him. Through soft grass and over rolling hills, he ran. It was not long though before the grasses turned hard and yellow, and the hills became flat. Trees became changed from deciduous to palm, and the sun seemed to beat down harder and hotter. His legs began to burn with fatigue; he had been running nearly twenty minutes without rest. Roy pushed past the pain and fatigue though, and carried on. It was not long before he found himself in front of a skyscraping mountain wall.
He had reached the edge of Sparring Fields, and he still saw no sign of Metaknight or the owner of the voice which had cried out across the land. As confusion racked his brain, Roy noticed a pass in the mountain wall. It was snugly nestled between two towering rocky walls, and was only about twenty feet wide. Despite being in the shade of two mountain walls, the pass exhumed a powerful heat, presumably stemming from the bright, glaring light that could be seen at the other end of the pass, about nine hundred feet away. Feeling the heat wash over him, Roy dashed into the mountain throughway and set his sights on the blinding light before him.
The throughway itself had a thin layer of sand coating the floor and carvings upon its walls. As he ran, Roy examined the carvings curiously. The majority of them he could not decipher, as they appeared to be some ancient or foreign language, yet among the aged script were images of various things. Men and tools were among the images, but most commonly displayed were the images of dragons. The crude carvings showed a number of battles between dragon and man, grand battles it seemed. The warriors in the carvings though, rarely won, or at least it seemed that way. Roy's mind was being plagued by thoughts of dragons. He had experience in the area, and when dragons were involved things rarely ended well. Wiping sweat from his brow as he ran, Roy decided now was not the time to be worrying about dragons. He had a task to accomplish, and he intended to complete that task, dragons or no dragons. Focusing on the task before him, Roy strengthened his resolve as he burst forth out of the throughway.
Roy stopped in his tracks and stared at the expansive terrain before him. He stood before a massive desert, complete with all the sand, sun, and heat that came with it. All about his was desert, not a trace of deviation could be seen. Straining his eyes, he gazed out across the sandy dunes and at the horizon. Still only desert, no plants or water in sight. Turning his eyes skyward, he scanned the blue void for signs of Metaknight, and way off in the distance, silhouetted by the merciless sun; the shape of the small winged warrior could be seen. As he prepared to cross the lifeless expanse, Roy heard a determined and slightly fatigued voice speak up from behind him.
"Hey, guy, are you Roy of Pherae?"
Turning on his heels, Roy searched for the speaker, and found him standing beside what appeared to be a chunk of rock that had fallen off the mountain wall. The speaker was a young man of about seventeen years. He had slightly spiked golden blonde hair that dropped under the heat, and he bore crystal blue eyes that shone with kindness. About the youth's shoulders, a yellow scarf and a golden yellow cape hung over his red breastplate and blue tunic. The sand shifted beneath his brown leather boots as he stepped towards Roy. In his brown leather gloved hands he held a broadsword that shimmered in the intense sunlight.
"Yeah I'm Roy, how do you know me?" inquired Roy curiously, and cautiously.
"I am Isaac of the village of Vale, from the western end of the continent of Angara. That guy Metaknight told me you would be coming, and asked me to wait for you here. I heard the cries and headed off to see if I could help whoever needed it. Metaknight saw me, and said that someone else was following the same plan. We both figured that it would be safer for me to travel with an ally, rather than alone."
"Ah I see, well I'd sure appreciate the help Isaac."
"No problem," grinned Isaac, "Besides, we are both shooting for the same goal; we might as well go together."
"Heh, yeah," agreed Roy warmly, "It'd be kind of stupid not to go together, especially since there are probably dragons out there."
"You saw the cave walls too, huh?" acknowledged Isaac, "Yeah, dragons can be a problem if your not prepared."
"Tell me about it," shuddered Roy, as he thought back to his own dealings with dragons, "All that power and speed, not to mention the breath weapons."
"Yeah," agreed Isaac thoughtfully, "Well, we should probably rest for a few minutes then hit the desert. Metaknight went on ahead, and while I'm sure he is powerful, we should go back him up."
"Good call," Roy put in, "I'm eager to help, but I'm exhausted from all the running it took to get here. Metaknight has got some serious skill, but I wouldn't wish dragons on my worst enemy."
"I hear that," said Isaac, as he exhaled wearily, "Anyway, let's get some rest, that is one big desert, and I don't want to go in unprepared."
Roy and Isaac stepped over to a shady spot near the mountain wall and rested out of necessity. The two young fighters got along very well as they laughed with each other, compared weapons and equipment, and exchanged stories of their own experiences with dragons. Each fighter thought to himself about the journey ahead; what exactly would they find in this desert, how is the untouchable Metaknight faring, and who exactly had called forth with pleas for aid? These answers lingered out in the burning desert sands for the time being, and the two waited with eager noble hearts and eager swords, as the scorching sun lorded over them.
Meanwhile, far across Sparring Fields, and deep within a subterranean dungeon, another set of heroes continued their own quest.
Link pouted a little as he massaged his face, remembering back to the fight with Zshallos. The Lizalfos mercenary had wounded his face, and there would be hell to pay if it scarred. After all, no one desecrates the glorious montage that is Link's face, or rather, so Link claims. Link's attention was shortly removed from his vanity though, as he, Marth, and Hector faced yet another challenge in the dungeon.
The chamber in which they now stood was a massive drop shaft. On the tallest floor, the one on which they stood, was about half the size of a football field, and contained a large number of floating and moving platforms, and a few scatter torches and torch pillars. Across the room, four doors could be seen, one for each compass direction. In front of each door there was a stable ledge supporting it. The three fighters stood with the west door behind them. Link noticed that the walls of the chamber had sparse patches of ivy, and from a few points in the wall, water gushed heavily forth, disappearing into the darkness below.
"Okay, this could be tricky," announced Link thoughtfully, "Chances are that the moment we set foot onto the floating platforms a large group of aerial monster will engage us. Now, obviously, fighting them on terrain like this is potentially suicidal, so we need to get to those doors. We could either all go for one door, or we could hit them separately. It is highly likely that beyond each door no more than three small chambers lay, so I think we should each pick one. Sound good?"
"Link; my shining light! I'd follow you to the depths of hell itself!" Marth said enthusiastically.
"You just might have to," Link whispered grimly as he cast a penetrating glance at the enormous drop below them.
"Oh, such sincerity!" admired Marth, then his tone changed and his expression was one of concern, "Seriously though Link, I'll handle the monsters here. While I am sure you are more than capable, I am simply more agile. I can handle this terrain."
"Marth's right, Link," added Hector, as he noticed Link was thinking deeply over how to proceed, "He's got more speed and agility than the both of us combined, haha, this guy is a blur!"
"Yeah, you're right," Link admitted, "Okay Marth, You'll handle the brunt of the enemy force, and I'll back you up with my bow while heading to the eastern door. Hector, you're a tank, but don't try to fight here, just focus on getting to the northern door; it has the simplest route. Marth, once you think you have the space, hit the southern door. From there we will each explore the subsequent rooms separately, once finished we will meet just inside the northern door."
"Argh," groaned Hector irritably, "I am a burden! My friends, I will make up for this later!"
"No worries, Hector," Marth reassured kindly, "Once we start fighting on some stable ground, you'll more than make up for it!"
"Alright," Link said, "Let's go."
Giving Hector a look of support, Link leapt onto the nearest platform, and just as he had predicted, a large number of harpies and lizalfos came crashing through the ceiling. The lizalfos all landed dexterously on the floating platforms, and the harpies all flew gracefully above their heads. Link froze in his tracks and quickly reanalyzed the situation. Hector's route was still more or less clear; the few enemies in his path would be gone long before he got to them. He and Marth could handle the rest, though he honestly was hot expecting both harpies and lizalfos. Regardless, Link drew his bow and let fly an arrow. His aim was true, and a harpy screamed in shock as it fell from the sky. The combat had begun.
"Harpies," Marth said deeply, as he ripped his sword from its sheath, "I hate harpies!" Marth launched himself out over the endless darkness, past Link, and landed deftly on a slow moving platform. At once a lizalfos and two harpies rushed him. As the lizalfos leapt through the air towards the platform Marth had been standing on, Marth blew past him with a flurry of blows and landed on the platform the lizard creature had jumped from. The lizalfos was dead before it knew what had happened. The harpies though, were still on his tail. Propelling himself twenty feet into the air, Marth waited for the harpies to approach him. Assuming they had him defenseless, the harpies cackled with ecstasy. They were; however, sadly mistaken. Before the harpies had a chance to act Marth dashed to and fro through the air as he caught both harpies in an aerial sword dancer combo. Feathers and bodies fell from the air as Marth delivered the final crushing blow and drifted smoothly onto a nearby platform. Hastily he scanned for Link and Hector to see how they were faring. Link, bow in hand, was simultaneously picking off harpies with sniper like precision, and was keeping Hector's path clear of lizalfos. Hector was devoting all of his focus on simply getting from platform to platform. Marth, satisfied of his allies' safety, turned his attention back to the task at hand.
Behind him Marth heard a harpy's screech, and he leapt aside as one of the feathered fiends clumsily tried to hit him. Doubling back on his path, Marth launched himself at the harpy and delivered a smash attack in a vertical arc straight to the harpy's face. Having been caught with the tip of Marth's blade, the harpy was sent screaming through the air like a missile. Marth grinned smugly as the weaponized harpy crashed into a lizalfos that was about to engage Link. The two enemies plummeted into the darkness below, roaring with horror.
Stylish, Marth thought as he twirled his sword around his fingers, I'm getting into this, heh, I hope you're watching me Link!
Link cast a swift look at Hector; he was nearing the northern door. As he felled another harpy with yet another precision arrow, Link counted the remaining enemies. There were only five lizalfos left, four were congregating around the eastern door and one of them was leaping around, presumably looking to take down Marth. As for the harpies, there were eleven remaining. Six of them were on focusing on Marth, two of them were with the lizalfos at the eastern door, and the last three were still trying to drop Hector and Link. Link slew another harpy as it dived for Hector, and then he leapt a few platforms closer to the eastern door; he was about halfway there now. Before he continued, Link cast a look over at Marth.
The agile prince had been having no trouble holding his own thus far, but now he had seven enemies on him, and Link wondered if he would be able to cope. His fears were in vain though, he noticed, as Marth acted. The agile prince was soaring through the air like a falcon; he was leaping of walls and harpies alike as his sword glistened in the chamber's low light. One harpy, another harpy, and then two more; Marth was giving them no quarter. Following that Link simply saw a blue blur as the last two harpies, and the lizalfos, were downed. Link cast a quick glance at the enemies congregating around the eastern door. They were completely absorbed with Marth's performance.
Using their fixation on Marth as an opening, Link swiftly rushed from platform to platform as he approached the eastern door. As soon as he was close enough, he launched himself through the air and landed a flying sword-plant in one of the lizalfos' faces. A fountain of blood erupted from the lizalfos' face as Link braced his feet on the dead creature's shoulders and leapt towards the lizalfos on his left. A strong, well aimed kick to the back of the head knocked the oblivious creature into seemingly boundless pit of the drop shaft. The two harpies overhead decided that they would be heroes, and swooped down on him, apparently though they changed their minds in favor of death, as they were dead the moment they moved; courtesy of Marth.
"Marth, I got this," yelled Link desperately, as he plunged the Master Sword into the chest of another lizalfos, "Help Hector with those harpies!"
"You got it!" acknowledged Marth, as he honed in on Hector's position. Link had noticed that Hector was now only one platform away from the door, but was being hounded by the two remaining harpies. The heavy armored man was managing to keep them at bay with Armads, his gargantuan axe, but he was having trouble keeping his balance on the small, slow moving platform in which he stood.
Turning his attention back to the last remaining lizalfos, Link struck out with conviction, and managed to sever the creature's shield arm. It howled in agony as blood spurted from the stump, and began to bury Link beneath a flurry of raging sword blows. Link parried all the blows with intermediate difficulty, and knocked the sword from its hand. The lizalfos, in an act of desperation, threw itself at Link, but only managed to get its self impaled upon his sword. Trying in vain to claw at Link's face, the lizalfos began to slip into death.
"Give my regards to Zshallos," Link breathed coolly, as he kicked the dying lizalfos off his sword and into the black abyss below. Sheathing his sword swiftly, Link cast a quick glance over at Marth, who had just finished off the three remaining harpies, and at Hector, who had reached the northern door. Seeing everything in order, Link stepped up to the iron door before him, and pulled it open. The gust of warm air drifted past Link's blood soaked body, and he stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him.
The room he had entered was a small chamber bearing only two torches, fixed to the walls, and a treasure chest. Stepping casually over the chest, Link looked it over. It was nothing special, just your average treasure chest. Shrugging, Link kicked the chest with enough force to open it and then bent down to retrieve its contents. Dungeon Map in hand, Link shut the chest and took a seat on it leisurely, as he pored over the map.
On the map, Link looked for any irregular rooms or chambers he could find, and noticed that the boss chamber was on the lowest level.
Well I could have told you that, Link thought irritably, it's almost always on the lowest, or highest, level.
Next he located the room he had just came from, and looked at the rooms around it. The room to the south appeared to be a series of three rooms, the last being a treasure chamber.
Probably the dungeon item, or maybe a rupee stash, thought Link offhandedly, we already found the Compass and Boss Key.
The room he was in now, was a dead end, and in the room to the north was…
"Oh no," Link whispered in slow realization, "Damn it, NO!" Link frantically shoved the map into his item pack and dashed towards the door. He tore the door open and rushed into previous room, searching for some sign that Hector had not yet proceed. "HECTOR!"
Marth, who had been about to leave via the southern door, turned to see what all the yelling was about, but before he could ask, tragedy struck. In the direction of the northern door came a deafening explosion that shook the foundations of the dungeon. The northern wall was blown apart, and a low, powerful roar could be heard amongst the screams from behind the rubble. As he began to dash towards the ruined wall, a legion of at least three dozen harpies flooded the chamber from the hole in the ceiling. Panic filling his heart; he cast an anxious look over at Link. The heroic and blood stained hyrulian was being quickly overwhelmed by the twenty or so harpies that had swamped him. Trying to rush to his aid, Marth's path was blocked by a small army fifteen harpies. Desperately trying to deal with them, Marth kept glancing over at Link. Narrowly dodging the assaults from the harpies, Marth managed to counterattack one and kill three in the process. Marth, using one of the harpy bodies as a base, propelled himself towards Link. It was too late though, as he saw Link topple over the edge of the platform he had been standing on. Marth crashed down onto a moving platform as Link's terrified cries could be heard resonating up from the darkness. Gripping his sword tightly, Marth screamed furiously and set himself up to take revenge, as thirty nine harpies circled above him menacingly.
Link yelled in terror as he plummeted through the deep endless darkness. Panic ruled his actions and he flailed madly. After a full five seconds of falling, the darkness began to fade, and the low light of magma took its place. Resolve flooding back to him, Link tilted his body and glided towards the nearest wall as he fell. Once he was close enough he unsheathed his sword and plunged it hard into the rocky wall. The Master Sword ripped through the chamber wall, showering Link with sparks and stone fragments. After about three seconds Link's descent began to slow, yet after another two seconds an irregularity in the rock threw Link, and his sword, from wall. Link crashed hard onto a large, round, stone platform, sword and shield flying from his grip as he landed. Squirming and groaning in pain, Link looked around the chamber. The platform he had landed on was surrounded by liquid hot orange magma, and the Master Sword lay inches from the edge. The corpse of a lizalfos could be seen hanging half off the platform. Link's shield though had shattered into several pieces upon impact; likely thanks to the cracks it received earlier. Across the magma was another, far bigger platform that only hand magma on one side, Link's side. Straining his eyes, Link saw a sword in a pedestal, bathed in a ray of light that was streaming down from somewhere up above.
Struggling to stand, Link painfully moved to recover his trusty sword. Once he had done so, he stretched his limbs and shook off the pain of his wounds. They were not as bad as they had initially seemed, it was mostly shock and vibrations from the impact of the fall. After ensuring his condition, Link pulled out his Hookshot and traversed his way over to the substantially larger platform. Seeing little else to do, Link went over to inspect the sword in the pedestal. As he approached though, a shadowy figure appeared seemingly out of nowhere and booted him hard in the face. Link staggered back, shook off the blow and looked to identify his attacker. He stared in disbelief and horror; the being before him was none other than that which he hated most, more even than Ganondorf. The dark shadow grinned widely as he spoke.
"It's been a while, Real Thing," it greeted wildly, madness in its voice. Link gritted his teeth and gripped his sword furiously; the shadow was Dark Link.