The young hero spent many of his days in that abandoned castle. It was a lonely existence, of that I am sure.
I admit I delighted in his struggle.
Watching him fight against the course nature had set for him reminded me of an ant clinging to a leaf in a river, only seconds away from a waterfall.
The ant will surely be destroyed, but because he is so minute, he is unable to grasp the grand crescendo so close ahead of him, and instead fights to survive the situation that he is in.
Sometimes, if only for a moment, the ant actually believes he is saved.
SEVEN YEARS LATER
The wolf rested lazily in the deep brown shade of the black, sharp tree. It had extended up through the ground, vines curling around anything close enough to reach. Its leaves fluttered softly in a breeze that came from somewhere far away, and they seemed to wave goodbye to it as it continued on its journey. The castle, once a harsh, foreboding structure, had become something else entirely. The calm world of dusk, of twilight, had conquered the cold stone and returned it to nature. Now it was the sanctuary of an old wolf.
The wolf had once been young; his face soft and gentle, with smooth, clean fur. Now his blue eyes were mixed with a dull gray tone, fur tangled and rough, with cuts and scars left about his body. He was a relaxed wolf, and seemed to be as in touch and capable as any that had ever lived. But looking deep into his eyes, it was easy to see a lucid, dignified intelligence. In the way he walked, examined the world around him, even in how he howled at the unchanging sky, a distinctly human quality was present.
After resting for most of the day, the wolf lifted himself up and began his patrol. He strode through the courtyards, looking over the now familiar foliage. A long tree, like a willow, stretched from the ground to the parapets, and gave him access to the higher areas of the castle. The place had once been crawling with vicious beasts, with bats lining the dark stone, immense birds of prey soaring through the skies, and further predators on the ground. Now few appeared, as if they recognized the old wolf as the new master of the domain. It was a peaceful place, walled off and secluded as it was.
The wolf sometimes worried that there was something he'd forgotten. He once had a great urge to escape this place. For days he'd claw at the massive doors in the courtyard, howling in anguish when his efforts amounted to naught. Eventually the memories of the world he used to live in faded. Some remained. He remembered a girl who wore a necklace of horns. Her face was the clearest memory of all. Some nights he would see her in his dreams, and she would speak to him. Her voice was pleasant, but he could never quite make out what she was saying. Instead it sounded like the low hum of rushing water. Despite the fact the he didn't even know if she was real, he almost felt as if he missed her.
The days for the guardian of the castle were measured in drops of water. He didn't remember how, but long ago, the wolf had found a way to measure time. He put a large bowl underneath the leak in his original cell, and found that when it filled, an entire day had passed. Every day, he would pick the bowl up with his mouth, empty it, and set it down in preparation for a new day. And then he would go to sleep in the same cell he'd woken up in so long ago, upon the many leaves of the plant that had once broken his shackle. As another day drew to a close, the wolf settled in to sleep, as he felt the calm nature of the dusk world deep within himself.
Of course, the man within him remained, and felt that its freedom was near.
That very day, through the window in his cell, another blue mote danced about. It curled around the bars, bobbed across the air, and finally came to rest upon the nose of the sleeping wolf. In his mind, he became aware of something very close, only this time, it felt as if the events were taking place now, rather than recorded from an earlier age. The world went black, and then became the picture of a city.
The fountain in the center of Castle Town had been transformed completely. Now it was a pedestal, an ominous monolith covered in runes and writings long forgotten by time. The night that hung over the town was much like twilight, the myriad of torches being prepared for the occasion illuminating the plaza. Around the edges of the dais, armored beings stood impassively, with their varied weapons readied to strike. The immeasurable onlookers waited patiently for the beginning of the ceremony. In the center of the altar, a colossal circle made of what looked like obsidian lingered incomplete. Its final piece sat upon a smaller platform in front of it. Closer to the edge was a tall man who looked like a snake. His steel helmet and ornate robe covered whatever parts of his body that would have been visible.
As the final torch was lit, the snake-man began to speak. "For seven long years we have awaited this day!" The crowd cheered with affirmative responses, and the man continued. "I ask of you here- who is prepared to devote themselves to their saviour!?" The roaring approval only grew. "Who among this gathering would give themselves completely to our master?!" Every soul present cheered. "Then I give to you faithful believers the gift you were promised. I will show to you our hallowed liege! The hand that has fed all of this land! Children of Hyrule, I present to you our God-King, THE ALMIGHTY LORD GANONDORF!"
With a wave of his hand, the snake-man levitated the final piece of black stone into its place on the circle, then fell to his knees and began chanting. The monolith began to glow with an unearthly light. The roaring of the throng of worshipers was completely drowned out by a thunderous rumbling. The fires around the dais began to glow deep blue, and floated away from their torches. As the deafening sound of the ritual reached its climax, the obsidian seemed to melt away, leaving only an infinite blackness. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, and then all at once, a being stepped through the portal.
He looked nothing like an ordinary man. Standing several heads taller than even the snake-man, he cast an intimidating figure in the center of the pedestal. His armor was black, steel strapped to steel upon his powerful body. His complexion was the deep olive green of the ancient desert-dwellers spoken of in legends, completed by the strong nose and short fire-red hair. Cruel, dark eyes finished his menacing countenance, and with them he surveyed the populace that now threw itself at his mercy. At the sight of this worship, his face was split by wicked mirth, his sharp white teeth showing his approval of those fawning below.
The snake-man stood and raised his arms high in the air. "Our lord is here!" The entire crowd dropped to their knees. With a flourish, the snake-man levitated two objects into his grasp. The first was a sizeable helmet of the same stone as the circle. "We have gifts for our master! The first is the essence of the evil that has plagued this land- The Fused Shadow!" The helmet was set down upon the dais. The next item was an object wrapped in white cloth. The fabric burnt away, revealing an entity so bright it was unable to be seen. "And the second, the tool with which the previous, corrupted rulers controlled Hyrule… The Triforce of Wisdom!"
The memory ended abruptly.
The wolf awoke with a start, partially because of the startling apparitions he'd just seen, and partially because the castle seemed to be shaking from its very roots. The strange, discolored atmosphere began to fade. The trees and plants began to disintegrate, leaving only ruined stone in their wake. The wolf began to panic, running through the old canals that led outside. Up the staircase he climbed, rising to the parapets with haste. The top of the castle was racked with wind. Suddenly the area around the castle, the town, was visible. The wolf saw the procession make its way towards the palace. He could just barely make out the snake-man, and the man named Ganondorf.
As he watched the procession come ever closer, a strange feeling bubbled inside the wolf. He felt as if he were rising off the ground, as if something was changing deep within his body. He began to feel very light, and faint. He blinked, and found himself stumbling towards the edge. He blinked again, and noticed the ground beneath him wasn't there anymore. The dark stone had left him behind, and the water of the moat seemed to rise up to greet him. He met it with a splash. He struggled in the deep water, flailing about and pushing himself closer to the edge. Finally he found rope, and hoisted himself up, biting the cord to stay on it.
He collapsed onto the stone path of the town proper, and attempted to dash into an alley, succeeding only in tripping over himself into the shadows. For a while he rested, trying to understand what exactly had just taken place. He was too confused by the circumstances to be excited about even his own freedom. He wiped his face off with his hand, and- He wiped his eyes again, then looked at his palm. It was pink, and fleshy. Human. He looked downward at his body, and found long, muscular, human legs, and a human torso, with worn, ragged human clothes.
The man had no idea what was taking place. What was this change? What had happened to him? As he peered down he noticed a shackle on the ground of the alley. He carefully picked it up, and inspected every nuance. Memories came flooding back. The girl's face. A young boy. A man with a sword. Zant. Zant the Twilight King. The man opened the shackle, lifted his arm, and snapped it shut around his wrist like a bracer. The three pieces of chain completed his memories.
His name was Link.
Through the alleyway, Link noticed the procession coming closer to the palace. He saw Zant. He saw Ganondorf. He felt their evil presence, and unconsciously rubbed his hand. "You there!" came a muffled voice. Link turned towards the noise. A guard wearing a full set of Hylian armor approached him, sword drawn. "The convoy area is not for beggars and filth like you. Surrender yourself and come with me." Link was focused completely on the sword he held. It reminded him of somewhere he'd been, long ago. "Are you listening to me, scum?!" The guard pulled his sword back to strike. Link took several steps forward quickly, and grabbed the guard's sword arm. The armored man hardly had time to yell before his arm was ripped completely off. As he collapsed onto the ground screaming, Link inspected the sword, sniffing it once and biting the blade. He removed the dismembered hand and swung the sword vertically. The clean way it cut through the air made Link smile. The guard began to grab at his legs, now. Link looked down at the pitiful enemy, whose helmet had clattered off into the shadows.
"What are you…?" asked the one-armed man.
Link shrugged, and drove the sword into the man below him.
After dispatching the guardsman, Link's focus turned back to Ganondorf and Zant. He held the blade at his side, and began to stride towards the procession. Blood dripped off the outstretched sword, leaving a crimson dotted line in its wake. The feral swordsman bared his teeth as he came ever closer to the open road, and his targets.
"Now why would you go and waste that?"
Link turned again, expecting another man to attack him.
"Why would you waste a perfectly good sword arm like the one you have there? And one that hates the false King, oh my, that's rare."
It was a heavy-set woman, one Link had never seen before. She looked weary, tired, and too old to be getting in this kind of trouble, though her eyes still had the gleam of youth. She daintily stepped over the corpse Link had just finished with. "Not that I don't admire your handiwork, sugar, but I think you might be able to make more of an impact if you play your cards right."
The rugged swordsman began to lose interest and continued his march.
"Dammit. Listen, if you want to kill those two, this ain't the way!"
Link stopped.
"Think about it. You really sure you can just march out there and slice 'em up? I mean, you've got the King of Twilight and someone with the better part of the goddamned Triforce. Making a plan is probably the only way we'll get anywhere."
The words began to make more sense to Link, as his knowledge of language returned.
She noticed her words were having an effect, and smiled wide, leaning in a bit closer. "There's more of us. More people that hate Zant and Ganondorf. They want to kill those bastards too."
That struck a chord with Link. He imagined others who'd been imprisoned like him.
"I can show you where we stay. You can join. Do you even understand what I'm saying?!"
Link nodded quickly. His human reasoning had started to come back, and the strange feeling he had watching Ganondorf had now disappeared.
"Good. So, what's your name?"
Link opened his mouth to answer, but found no sounds came out. He tried again, with the same results. He began to stare at the ground in shock once he realized what had happened.
He had forgotten how to speak.
Dark here. Ooh, chapter 2 after only a day. Go me. Thanks for all the kind reviews. I really appreciate them. As far as the questions, you'll all just have to wait and see.
I'd also like to take a minute to note the violence in this chapter. I think it crosses the line between T and M, but I'm not sure. If you happen to have an opinion, and you're already leaving a review, tell me what you think I should do: Up the rating, down the violence, or stay the same. Thanks.