The Legend of Zelda
The Clan Wars: Rise of Dethl
Chapter 1: Demon Rising
-Greenholme, 5012 BIW (Imperial Age)
The city of Grand Farrow. In its prime, it was a splendid example of how grand the Hylian Empire had become. The province of Greenholme, in all of its splendor, glowed green with rich farmland, moist jungles to the south, and mighty forests and prairies to the north. The city itself was normally bustling with life and activity, and the buildings were alive with politicians, nobles, merchants, and many others who could afford to live in such beautiful dwellings.
It was not such on this day. Great cracks had formed in the ground, and much of the greenery west of that land had been drained of their goodness and returned to the dust from whence it came. Great, black trees had risen from the ground, puncturing through homes and through city streets. Though no black, bubbling tar could be seen, neither could the people. The city was nigh short of empty, as many had evacuated to the eastern edges of the city where they would be safe. Great walls had cut the city in half, with the mighty Imperial Castle in the center.
The castle was made of white and gray marble, with painted wood and lovely roofs painted bright red. Such beauty, which would have inspired awe in any outsider and pride to the locals who lived there, was lost upon that dark time, and a shadow had formed over the castle's walls. Servants had evacuated long ago, and much of the gardens and outer areas were in disrepair. Indeed, the only activity often seen in the castle in this dark age was within the throne room, such as right now.
In the center of the throne room, a young lady with flowing red hair was kneeling on the red, silk carpet. She was covered in green robes, which protected the large bulge of her belly that implied that she was heavily pregnant. Her beautiful red hair, as long as it was, could not hide her frightened, blue eyes as she gazed at the throne sitting in front of her, and the proud man who was being tended to by two monks and an assortment of smithies.
"But husband, why?" she asked, "Why now?"
"Gaze outside the window, woman," the man said, "Gaze upon what was once the jewel of our city, now covered in shadow and pierced by devilry of an ancient kind. Gaze upon the withered farmlands that once produced the greatest of crops and the richest of grains. Gaze upon the pierced cobblestones that was once our streets, the ruined buildings once full of life, the withered heath far beyond which has contained this evil, and ask again the question that had just left your lips."
"Husband," she said again, "Please…it is too dangerous. None who have ever entered that valley has returned alive, and I fear that the Gods will not protect you in there."
"The Gods saw fit to protect my ancestor when she returned after the death of her lover," the man said, "With her blood in my veins, and with the strength of my faith, will they not see fit to grant me safety as well?"
By now, the smiths had begun strapping armor to the man. The woman could only watch as each piece was added onto his skin, strapped down, bolted tight, and then polished brightly before the next part was added.
"What of your family?" she asked, "If you die, what is to become of them? What is to become of me?"
"You jest," the man said with a sad smile, "Family is the reason why I do this. As your husband, I do this for the sake of your love, that we may live together again in peace in this place that was once our lovely home. As a future father, I do this to ensure our child's future, so that the child may be able to frolic in this good land as we once did when we were young."
A large helmet was placed upon his head, hiding his golden hair and all but his blue eyes and mustached and bearded face. His eyes gazed sadly upon the woman he loved, before turning to the east window and to the frightened city beyond.
"And as King of this land," he said, "I am entitled to protect the rest of my family as well. Are the people here in this city not entitled to my kinship as well? They are my family. I am like a guiding father to all of them, and it is in the father's duty to protect his sons and daughters, no matter the cost. That is why I go west…to protect my people…to protect you."
The last of the warrior's regalia was added. A mighty sword had been strapped to his belt, and a shield was added onto his back. Already, he appeared to be more of a knight than a king, though his soft, sad eyes betrayed his love for his beloved wife, who began to weep as she gazed upon him.
"I can't stay here…knowing that you will die," she said with tears in her eyes, "How will I know you will return?"
The warrior approached his wife and bent down upon one knee. He gently raised her chin with his finger. Gazing deeply into her eyes, he gently pecked at her lips through his visor and smiled sadly.
"My darling wife," he said, "I give you my oath…an oath as strong as the one that bound us together by love…I will return, one way or another. You have the word of a king, a knight…and a husband."
The woman smiled, and burst into tears. The two of them embraced for a while, despite the man's bulky armor and the woman's bulge in her belly, before the hand of an old priest tapped the king's shoulder.
"My lord," the priest said, "These are the crafted arrows created by combining the mighty of the Goddesses with our everlasting faith. They are the key weapons that will help you defeat this devilry."
The monk held out a casket of arrows. The arrows looked like most normal ones, save for their intricate design and the fact that they seemed to glow brightly with an essence of golden light. The king took these gratefully and stood up, placing the arrows carefully in his quiver.
"I must go," he said to his wife, who was still on her knees and weeping, "I shall return…I promise…"
The king waved one last goodbye to his people. There was no ceremony, no special honor, no final rights save for the ones he and his four score warriors received from the priests in case if some of them never came back. Those who were going with the king were his most loyal warriors; men that were willing to die for their leader without question. These warriors were clad in armor and ready to go to war. At this point, the king knew that they had to be, for stories told that no armor in the world could protect one when they were tossed into the dark depths of the murky tar pits.
Four score and one horses rode across the dusty plain towards the dark forest of black trees. Like the spears of a black army, the spines and sharp ends of the objects seemed to herald the doom of the 81 warriors that descended into the darkness. The horses whinnied and snorted as they moved through the dark forest, and everyone was on edge.
The men continued to follow their king. Deeper and deeper into the forest they went. The king could almost feel like they were being watched by some dark presence, like some great eye was gazing upon them as they passed through the black, spiked trees. To add to the gruesome sight, some of the trees had begun to decay, revealing old bones deep within…many of them the kin of those riding.
The dark, dusty ground thumped underneath the hooves of all 81 horses. The beasts, though frightened, obeyed their masters' orders and continued deep into the forest. Their severe discipline combined with their breed's stubbornness and loyalty kept them from bolting head over heels away from the dark depths of the evil place. Deep, ancient evil lurked just behind every rock and dark, unholy tree, and it did not take the human sense of morals and beliefs to know that there was a dark and ancient evil deep inside.
None could see the ground cracking around the bases of each of the trees. Deep cuts in the earth began to form as dark, black fluid began to ooze and bubble. Nobody could see this, for everyone was too focused on the goal at head; too concentrated on their goal in their attempts to control their fear. And so, it came as a surprise to all when the first man started screaming.
There was a splash; a cry for help; and then…a black tree formed out of the ground.
A horse ran forward, its rider and saddle completely gone. Tar was all across its side, but it kept riding out of fear. The others didn't know what to expect, but the king raised an arm and made a gesture with his hand. The men drew their swords and looked expectantly at the ground, making sure that nothing would ambush them again…
There was a burst of dust. A horse tripped and fell forward. The rider suddenly screamed and there was another splash…and yet another tree.
A hideous moaning began to escalate as more men suddenly died in horrid ways. The ground parted beneath one horse and swallowed both beast and rider. Tar burst forth from the ground and grabbed at soldiers from horseback, dragging them under and swallowing them whole. Tree branches suddenly turned and speared or struck the men, causing them to slip in the grasp of more tar. Horses panicked and bucked about as their riders screamed and were killed in mortifying ways.
80 trees had grown in the forest. When the king looked back to check on the survivors, he found that he was alone. Only a small herd of horses were still following, their bodies covered in remnants of tar, and their eyes glazed over in fright. The king didn't know what to expect, for he knew that he and his steed were both deeper in the forest than anyone else had ever gone. Not knowing what to expect, he ordered his horse to continue.
Finally, he broke through a wall of complete darkness…and almost fell in headfirst into a giant lake of tar. His horse reared back and saved him just in time. The creature quickly bolted aside, knocking him off and into the trunks of one of the trees. His fall caused his head to reel about in pain, though he silently thanked his steed for getting him to safety away from the disgusting, black, evil liquid.
The horses were not so lucky. 80 there once were, but they were blinded by their fear as they strode head-on into the black abyss. One by one, they were swallowed each by the great pool of darkness, and were consumed silently into the depths. 81 horses and riders set forth. Only one was a live.
Four score warriors had died. The king bowed his head low in shame and grief. It would have been better if he had gone alone, instead of bring the others with him. Why did he bring them along? Did he believe that there was an evil that he needed aid to defeat, or did he believe that, somehow, they would appease the creature? Such thoughts were agonizing and portrayed the mind of a coward, and a coward the king was not. Many a foe made the mistake of assuming that he was nothing less than the courageous hero of his people, and they all paid for their mistakes in one form or another…
The king sighed and shook his head. He had come here for a purpose. His heart filled with resolve as he stood upon his feet. His horse quickly strode to his side, and he calmed the creature. The loyal beast stood beside him as he began to prepare the area where he stood for the task at hand.
He got down on his knees. Holding his palms close together, he began to pray for guidance from the Goddesses. His words began to echo through the dark forest almost like something from a heavenly dream; a prayer that combated the darkness, something not seen since the beginning of this world. As he prayed, his words began to tumult and ascend about throughout the dark tar. This is what he said…
"Goddesses of old, Spirits of on high…May you and your lesser helpers aid me in my plight. Great was thy blessing when you gave life unto my breast and the breast of my people, but even now a power of great darkness has come and crushed the life of this land…I ask for your aid. Great Din, with flaming hair and warm breast, grant me resolve and strength of the land…"
He reached behind his armor and pulled out two objects. One was a mighty bow; an ancient thing crafted by fine hands and aligned with silver and gold. The other; the quiver of arrows given to him by the priest.
"Noble Farore, with green dress and loving embrace, grant me the spirit of life and courage of the heart…"
He notched one of the arrows upon the bow. Slowly, he took the bow and began to aim his sights at the gross, bubbling liquid in the pit straight ahead. The tar seemed to writhe at the sight of the arrow, and looked almost as if it was raising a grasping hand into the air as the warrior drew back upon the bowstring.
"Wise Nayru, with eyes of sapphire and with the grace of the heavens, grant me the wisdom and faith of the Law from which you set upon this world…"
He raised the bow, slowly, until it pointed high into the sky. All time seemed to go still. The tar continued its bubbling cacophony, while the man sweated and held his bow pointed up to the sky. The horse pawed the ground, but did not do anything; it merely gazed at the beautiful weapon that the king held in his hands.
"Goddesses," the king said at last, "Save us in this hour of our greatest need…"
He let go of the bowstring.
The arrow sung as it flew high into the sky. Up into the heavens it ascended, slicing through air and cloud as it rose higher and higher into the realms above that of mortals. When it finally stopped, it slowly began to dip, basking in the heat of the sun, before suddenly descending back down like a holy meteor flung from the sky. A great whooshing sound echoed throughout the valley, and then, as suddenly as it was launched, the holy arrow struck the center of the tar.
The arrow went straight through. At first, nothing seemed to happen. The King waited patiently for something to occur, but the only thing that seemed to change was that the tar had become very still. Suddenly, when the King was about to give up hope, he watched to his surprise as the dark forest began to slowly descend back into the depths; completely returning into the ground from whence it came, until there was not even a sliver of black left.
Only the great pit of tar remained. The king was confused at first. The pit did not move once, and not even a ripple moved through the depths. The king let temptation get the best of himself, and he approached the once-bubbling mass, and made as if to poke at it with his finger.
A great and dark whooshing sound shot through the air and echoed throughout the four corners of the valley of Greenholme. The bubbling tar began to shake and writhe, and the ground around it shook as well. Great booming sounds and mighty roaring tumults cascaded from the edge of the pool. The horse quickly bolted away, never looking back, leaving its master to only gaze up in horror.
A great mass began to rise from the center of the black liquid. Great, powerful arms and legs began to form as well, though they did not take on definitive shape. Instead, as they rose, they sort of formed a single, symmetrical mass…and that was all that could be identified with anything that was life in this world. Spines, sharp grooves, even sphere-like appendages began to form all around the creature's body. It suddenly began to change its mind about legs, and instead formed a snake-like form, though the arms still remained.
It stood straight, tall, and black. As black as ebony that had lost its luster. It was darker than a patch of starless night that promised forevermore a time of darkness and despair. The being seemed to stand rigid like a tree, and yet moved like the viscous liquid that it was seemingly birthed from. As it stood, seemingly basking in the sun, all life seemed to hold its breath…even the wind stopped moving.
Suddenly, an eyelid began to open up. Slowly, with twitching movements, the simple muscles began to open up and reveal a thin, white membrane that seemed to reek of despair and hatred. As the eyelid finally opened, the eye began to slowly take definite shape, and a soulless pupil began to appear. Black with a red cornea surrounding it, the eye gazed about at its new world for a few long, agonizing minutes, before blinking for the first time.
The creature seemed to stretch and yawn. The king was grossly horrified, though curious all the while. How could such a creature form? Was it willed by the Goddesses, or was it just an aftereffect of the arrows? It was confusing, though the thoughts were not enough to break the king away from the harsh reality of this abomination.
Finally, the beast was finished stretching. It gazed about at its surroundings, perhaps in confusion or because of curiosity, and seemed to act like a young child who had wandered somewhere that he didn't belong. Suddenly, it gazed its eye into the sky and let out a mighty roar. No mouth could be seen from the beast, but its voice could be heard clearly. It took a while before the king, in the midst of his horrified paralysis, realized that the roar was not of anger…but a roar of laughter.
"OOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! AAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHAAA!!! OOHohohohohaaaa! At long last, I can gaze at the horrid orb that you mortals call the sun. How beautiful and terrible it is indeed…hahahaahoooohahahaa!!"
The king backed away in fear. It spoke!
"Ooooh…how I do enjoy feeling the air through my skin instead of through the pores that were the only things that escaped from my chains," the beast said, "It feels good to be free…and now, where is the insect that shook me from my bonds?"
The beast looked about, until its eye gazed upon the frightened form of the king standing before him.
"HAHAHAHA!!! Thank you, kind mortal," it said in a sinister voice, "You have set me free from my horrid prison, from which I was a victim of for lo these tens of thousands of years! At last, I am free amongst the earth again…free to bring the chaos back into the world that was rightfully mine!"
"N-n-n-n-n-no! NO!" the king shouted in disbelief, "That arrow was meant to destroy you, not set you free!!! HOW?!?"
"You are quite an amusing little parasite," the demon said, "It is true, your arrow did destroy what you saw was evil, but the image that you had seen was but the outside of my prison walls. It is true that I am the source of the black forest that has slowly drained the life from this place, and it is true that I am the one who swallowed your four score soldiers and their beasts, without a second thought…but you still saw my prison as the source of the evil. Therefore, you have freed me…and I am grateful!"
"NO!" the king shouted as he grabbed his bow from the ground and pulled back another arrow of light, "No, I will not believe it! You are the evil that I set out to destroy, and your evil will be contained once again!"
He let loose the arrow. The beast was struck by the thing, and it seemed to shiver for a moment or two…but then the object began to slowly enter the beast's body. The monster took one look at the disappearing arrow and let out another horrifying laugh.
"Foolish mortal!" he shouted, "Your magic has not only released me, but protected me as well. Indeed, for how else can I move about with such ease on this mortal plane without the Goddesses striking me down? I am supreme, for I am CHAOS!!"
A single tree suddenly rose behind him. The outer cortex of the tree began to rot away, revealing an ancient skeleton perfectly preserved inside.
"I knew that it was a wise idea to let this fool's lover go and give birth to the bastard child that was to be in her womb," he said, "Indeed…for had I not, no one would have heard of my wretched evil, and none would have the chance to wander in the depths of my forest with the right antidote to set me free! I knew it would be only a matter of time before the descendant of this one would set me loose…Indeed, you can thank the intelligence I have gained from the collective mortals I have swallowed for that fact alone. You would be surprised how easy it is to become almost omniscient by swallowing the life force of a few hundred mortals…or perhaps a whole nation of them!"
His dark eye seemed to betray a wicked smile upon his features. The king could only howl in rage as he drew another bow and let loose a salvo of arrows. The demon seemed amused at first, but his amusement quickly turned to anger, which turned to rage, even as the Hylian began trying to hack at his base with his pitiful sword.
"No mortal weapon can harm me, insect," the demon said, "Since you are not grateful for my own gratitude, I shall pass judgment upon you!"
The creature reached into the pool and suddenly tossed a handful of tar. The warrior king was entangled with the stuff, completely immobilized. On command of the monster, the tar suddenly pulled him into the depths of the pool, and all was black.
Dark, grim, suffocating. That was all that the king felt. He seemed to be suddenly stripped of his armor, until he was completely naked in the tar. It did not matter now, for he was completely immobilized by the beast, and could only wait until lack of air or sanity would ensure his swift death.
Suddenly, he was pulled up. Coughing and spluttering, the king saw that he was strapped to a great and mighty base of rock and tar. The powerful object rose high, until it came to a stop in the air. As the king opened his eyes, he saw to his amazement that he was in clear view of Grand Farrow castle, which stood in the distance.
"Since you are so willing to defy my might," the beast said, "you shall pay by dying last. Watch as your world suffers down to the very last single-celled microbe on this world, starting with your tiny hive of a village! OOOOAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"
The demon turned his gaze to the city. The king could tell that the beast was smiling, though he could care less. Horror and despair gripped his heart as he saw the beast slowly climb out of the pool of tar, his snake-like form beginning to rise out from the depths.
"Oh…yes," it spoke, "Soon the whole world will tremble when it faces the might…of Nightmare!"
The beast suddenly leaped into the air. With a quick flash, it seemed to transform into a powerful winged monster; like a bat crossed with a man, only darker and devoid of flesh. The creature flew through the sky with the speed of an arrow, and was soon hovering over the village. Nightmare swiftly transformed back into his true form, and the king watched in horror as the beast suddenly launched powerful beams from its eyes and swung its mighty arms about, destroying all in its path.
The man's sobs were not enough to drown out the cackling of Nightmare as he began to slowly destroy the valley.
To be continued…
Kerian: So, now we see the beast known as Nightmare. I was heavily inspired by the plot of Samurai Jack's The Birth of Evil episode when I wrote all of this, so it's not exactly the most original piece of work. However, now we catch a first glimpse of the forces of chaos. Who knows what's going to happen next!
I've yet to really delve into the pantheon of Hyrule's Gods and Goddesses...mostly because in the past I felt it would kind of conflict with my religion (which is why I never spell God or Goddess with the beginning letter capitalized in Legacy of the Sages...I'm over that paranoia now, seeing as I know it's all make-believe, though I still keep to that tradition in LotS). However, this story is going to involve the three big girls a lot. If you've ever watched The Birth of Evil before, you'll see just how involved they'll really get...
Like I probably said earlier (and even if I didn't, I might as well say now) this story will be posted on Deviantart and is currently there for viewing. Hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed creating it! Until the next chapter, me out!
-Kerian