This is but one of the legends of which the people speak...
Long ago, there existed a kingdom where a golden power lay hidden.
It was a prosperous land blessed with great wealth, majestic cities, and peace.
But one day a lordling of great evil found the golden power and took it for himself...
With its strength at his command, the lordling spread darkness across the kingdom.
But then, when all Hope had died, and the hour of Doom seemed at hand...
...a young boy clothed in red appeared as if from nowhere.
Wielding the blade of evil's bane, he sealed the dark one away and gave the land light.
This boy, who traveled through time to save the land, was known as the Knight of Time.
The boy's tale was passed down through generations until it became legend.
But then, a day came when a fell wind began to blow across the kingdom.
The great evil that all thought had been forever sealed away by the hero once again crept forth from the depths of the earth, eager to resume its dark designs.
The people believed that the Knight of Time would again come to save them.
...But the Knight did not appear.
Faced by an onslaught of evil, the people could do nothing but appeal to the gods.
In their last hour, as doom drew nigh, they left their future in the hands of fate.
What became of that kingdom...?
None remain who know.
The memory of the kingdom vanished, but its legend survived on the wind's breath.
On a certain island, it became customary to garb boys in red when they came of age.
Clothed in the red of rust and blood, they aspired to find heroic blades and cast down evil.
The elders wished only for the youths to know courage like the hero of legend...
"John. John, wake up. John this is embarrassing. John, don't make me slap you!" John Egbert persisted in sleeping.
Jade wondered how it was that her brother could just take a nap on such a frigid day in December with no protection against the cold but his standard blue outfit. Blue shirt with a wavy pattern, a long blue hood, orange pants and sandals; not cold weather gear by any stretch of the imagination. Furthermore, they were out on the observation deck, a wooden tower some three stories tall about sixty yards out into the water. The pounding of the waves made the fragile structure shake, and the breeze brought salty spray with it. Seagulls made their nest in the thatching, and the feathery assholes seemed to hate Jade. Well before reaching the top of the ladder their cawing, keening, whatever, had become nigh unbearable to Jade's sensitive ears; the long, pointy, appendages that stuck out from her thick mane of black hair were coated with soft white downy fur, a sign of some ancient lineage or other. She thought they made her look like a dog.
The building was loud, unstable, and as close to freezing as anything ever got this far south, yet here was John, napping as soundly as if he were some wealthy Windfall merchant in his plush four-poster who'd just counted all his rupees and hadn't found anything smaller than a purple. Jade wrapped her shawl tight against a sudden gust that was cold enough to make her gasp. A little drool dribbled out of her brother's mouth. It was almost cute. She slapped him.
"Ow! God! Why?!" He screamed, jumping to his feet and rubbing his face.
Jade picked up his glasses and handed them to him with a smile. "John! Don't you know what day it is?"
"Tuesday," he said, snapping his fingers. He wasn't going to miss a beat this time.
Jade laughed at him. "It's Dave's birthday you fuckass!"
"Well that goes without saying," John retorted, his equally canid ears lying flat on his scalp. "I thought you were playing some mind-game. Anyway, 'fuckass'? Have you been hanging out with the mailman again? And of course I know that it's Dave's birthday. Look what I got him," he said, producing a polished brass telescope with a flourish. He was very proud of his sleight-of-hand, and to his credit Jade couldn't see how he could possibly have hidden it.
"Your old telescope?" She asked, with a raised eyebrow.
"I completely refurbished it," he said proudly. "Here, take a look."
She took it in her hands, tentatively, trying to keep as much of the cold out as possible. She hefted it, admired the craftsmanship, and finally held it up to a shining green eye, turning to look out over the island.
Outset Island was a lump of stone rising from the ocean floor that had been split in two after untold centuries of wind and tide. The western side was the bigger and the majority of the village, with its charming wood-framed wattle-and-daub houses and distinct peaked thatched roofs, was situated there along the single stretch of beach at the foot of the mountain. At least, they called it a mountain; it was barely a plateau to be honest. The summit however was thickly forested and, according to some, swarming with fairies, and possibly monsters.
A rope bridge connected it to the eastern pinnacle, the only one that could actually be climbed. The rocky trails leading up to it were half-wild though, thick with wild pigs, and thus the bridge was poorly maintained and the forest poorly explored. Jade longed to go up there someday. She would brave any number of boars and the half-rotten bridge to catch herself a fairy. Then she'd make a wish to be as far from their boring little island as possible.
And suddenly her view was obstructed by an enormous blue eye and she shrieked, almost dropping the telescope. John laughed at his own stupid prank and she smacked him again, though now that he was standing she had to reach up to do it. It wasn't any fair; they were twins, but he was growing so much faster than she was. Well, he did have the benefit of training under Dave's Bro, the town's blacksmith and one-man-army.
He cocked his ear westward and turned. "Hey, Karkat's freaking out about something," he said, pointing to their home. The postman, a surly troll with nubby horns the color of candy-corn and a pair of bloodred moth's wings, was indeed freaking out over something, gaping at the sky. Jade turned the telescope upwards just as John muttered an expletive and rushed for the ladder. Jade nearly dropped it again when she saw what was in the sky.
It was Dave Strider's thirteenth birthday, and like with every birthday before, he felt pretty 'meh' about it. There was no use, really, in celebrating birthdays. It's not like you'd accomplished anything worth all the attention you get on your birthday, it's just a thing that happens. Maybe it was meant to be a consolation for having been pulled into life from wherever it is spirits come from. At least you got presents.
Before dawn, Bro had woken him up and forced Dave into a sparring session. He was sure that if anyone had been awake at the time, they would have found it glorious; not to toot his own horn or anything but Dave's swordsmanship was the subject of songs and ballads (that he had composed himself for ironic enjoyment). Dave had lost anyway, of course; he'd never be able to beat his brother. The man is simply the best there is. After that, the two had gone out in a canoe to catch breakfast. In olden days, a boy's coming of age ceremony had been marked by harpooning a gyorg, a monstrous shark with a stone ram for its face built for smashing canoes, to make a feast for the whole village. They'd had to settle for a middling-sized sunfish for themselves.
Wiping his mouth, Bro had said, without making much of a fuss out of it, just cool and relaxed as he always was, "hey, here's your present," and stabbed a sword into the table up to the hilt.
Dave whistled. "Shit you almost scared me that time. Not quite though." His voice was a lazy drawl, rarely changing cadence as if unpunctuated. He pulled it out of the table, taking care to make the action appear effortless. It was a broadsword with a circular crossguard and a long hilt, to switch easily from one to two-handed stances. The steel was shiny and newly forged; Dave could see his face in it. Thick, frost white hair, blood-red eyes, mouth that betrayed no expression.
He didn't thank his brother, but he didn't have to. No one reads an introvert's emotions better than an introvert.
It was a cold, grey day, and the stiff breeze carried a salty sting in from the ever present ocean. He took a moment to look at it. The world seemed to go on forever. Though he'd never admit it to anybody, it frightened him a little. He and his brother had come from the north back when Dave was just a baby, and his brother loved to tell self-aggrandizing tales about their crossing. The world was full of strange, terrible, wonderful things.
And he would have no part of it.
Turning from the ocean, he headed over to the Egbert house. The oldest woman on the island, Nana Egbert, was John and Jade's grandmother and sole provider. She would also be providing Dave with his ceremonial cloths. She met him at the door; the old woman had a youthful smile. "Hello Dave!" she said cheerfully before ushering him inside.
The Egbert house was small and comfortable, like most of the houses on the island. The key difference from Dave's own house is that it was decorated with family pictographs, cook books, and potted plants, rather than bristling with weapons and puppets. "At long last, you have become a young man," she said, presenting him with a bundle of clothing.
Dave looked at it. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all!" She didn't leave. It became clear that she intended to watch him change. He didn't sigh, but he wanted to.
As he worked his way into the Knight's garb, Nana continued speaking. "Once upon a time, it was customary for young boys to take up a sword to defeat their enemies. Well, now we're a peace-loving people and our swords were long since beaten into ploughshares, and even they had rusted away to nothing by the time my own Nana was a little girl. Only the family shield on the wall of every home," here she indicate the ancient ironwood shield, reinforced with a metal frame and decorated with red and silver enamel, with the little shrine of flowers and pictographs underneath, "serves as a reminder of our martial past—"
She had finally noticed that Dave was now fully dressed and had belted on his new sword. The old woman looked at him appraisingly. "Is there a problem?" He asked, with just a touch of hesitancy.
The old woman laughed. "Hoo hoo, no child! Dark times have come before and may come again. It's good to be prepared." She took a moment to study him. The Knight's clothing consisted of a long maroon cape with a hood, a red shirt bearing some symbol that might have been a stylized sun, heavy black boots, serviceable red trousers, and sword-belt with a seashell buckle. "Oh, you look so handsome!" She said. "Let me get the pictobox. You know, you are practically family, Dave."
Dave was simply glad that he hadn't been born in spring like John. Come John's next birthday, he'd have to wear a completely identical outfit, but in the subtropical heat. As for now, Dave felt quite comfortable. "Remember to come over tonight," Nana continued, "I'm making your favorite red velvet cake—"
"SWEET MERCIFUL SUFFERING FUCK!" The mailman's voice rang loud and clear through the thick walls. Nana gave Dave a look, as if to warn him against imitating such language. He gave her a look as if to say yes ma'am, and the two headed outside to investigate. "Really Karkat, there is no need to ever resort to such—" To her credit, she did not partake in foul language when she saw the horrorterror screaming across the sky, but she did fall silent.
John ran back towards his house as quickly as he could, with Jade following after, still holding the telescope. He kept his eyes on the unnatural thing flying over the island; its deep green body looked almost human, but from the midsection down it split off into two long, reptilian tails that swished and flowed against each other as it flew, creating strange swirling patterns. Its head was like that of a rooster, with a pearly white mane and brilliant crest, though its face and beak was obscured by a pale green mask of some kind, engraved with serpents. And in its disturbingly human hand, the creature was holding something. "It's a girl!" Jade shouted.
"The monster?" John asked.
She smacked him. "No! It's holding a girl!" At that moment, something came whistling across the sky and struck the beast with a satisfying thwack across the face. The monster let out a shrieking sound like a man screaming in rage filtered through the sound of a rooster's crow, amplified until it was too painful to listen to and the twins covered their ears. It dropped its burden and turned, only to be struck in the face again. The projectile, a boulder, landed on the path in front of their house with a thud that the children felt as well as heard.
Out at sea, a great black form crept ever closer to shore, and hurled another boulder. "What the hell is that?" John asked.
"A ship, looks like," the sudden intonation of the deep, calm voice startled John. He turned to see his master in the metallurgic arts, Dave's brother. He was very tall and not particularly muscular for a blacksmith, which is to say that he was still probably the strongest man on the island. His frost-white hair stuck out at exciting angles from underneath a flatcap, and his eyes were obscured by pointy sunglasses.
"I knew that," John muttered. Bro cleared his throat. "I knew that, sensei."
"That's a pirate ship," he continued in his usual soothing monotone.
Excitedly, Jade asked, "How can you tell?"
"I'm seen it before. Look at the figurehead," he pointed. The prow and stem of the ship seemed to have been taken over by a writhing black mass, like a monstrous squid with a hundred thorny vines for tentacles. "That right there, is the Grimdark."
Vriska Serket's hair cascaded in the wind and she took a moment to enjoy it before seizing the wheel. In her old red boots and fine blue overcoat, newly looted from a Labrynnian freighter, paired with her fearsome fanged grin and the wicked glint in her remaining eye, she looked every bit the pirate captain.
"Rotating catapult five degrees," cried artillerist Jake English from amidships. "Should I load up another shot First Mate Serket?"
Damn, that irked her. "Oh, you can just call me captain for now," she said sweetly. "When we get Rose back, then I'll be First Mate again. Savvy?"
He laughed. "Very droll madam!" Then lifted a boulder onto the arm of the catapult.
She growled. "Mr. Slick," Vriska shouted over her shoulder, "Mr. English needs a keelhauling!"
"Spades Slick is taking a nap belowdecks, and left me with instructions to wake him should 'any chump need stabbing'. Now, please stop trying to subvert Rose's authority, Vriska dear," said Aranea. Other than wearing her hair much shorter than Vriska's, Aranea Serket was essentially the same in appearance; same height, same build, same grey skin, flushing slightly blue from the stinging salt on the frigid breeze, same mismatched horns resembling a stylized stinger and claw, and before Vriska's first arrest they'd had the same left eye. Of course, the two couldn't be farther in personality. Where Vriska was ambitious, manipulative and violent, Aranea was humble, cooperative, and generally peaceful.
Generally. They wouldn't let a real pacifist on a pirate crew, of course. When Vriska had been arrested on Windfall, Aranea had broken in, murdered the guards, and burned down half the prison to rescue her…sister. Trolls didn't really have siblings, per se, but the Serkets had adopted the human term. Anyway, it had been too late to save Vriska's wings from getting clipped, and they'd blinded her wonderful left eye with its seven pupils. It was a very wretched pair of trolls who were first taken aboard the Grimdark and thrown upon Rose's mercy.
"I'm not trying to subvert any such thing," said Vriska. "Aren't you supposed to be researching this monster?"
Aranea gave her a look. "I am an empath, I know how you're feeling at any given moment. And so are you, so stop playing games with me. The only reason you didn't mutiny as soon as that thing snatched her up is because the rest of the crew is loyal to her. You're trying to shift Jake's allegiance. And as to the research," she brandished a heavy red volume, "I already did it," Aranea said, proudly. She set the book on the wheel and showed Vriska the entry she'd found, accompanied by a rather detailed illustration. "You'll notice it's missing its mask. I'm unsure as to the significance." Reading aloud, she said, "Abraxas is a prehistoric deity of tremendous power. Believed to be half-diabolic and half-divine, ancient cultures perceived it as being beyond good and evil altogether and worshiped it as the god of cosmic balance. It is mentioned in the Hylian Edda in line 390 of book six; 'In his house below the sea / Dread Abrasax' sic, 'lies dreaming'—"
"If you would kindly tell me how to kill it," Vriska interrupted with a blasé attitude.
"Er," said Aranea, fiddling with her dress collar, "did you not hear the part where it's a god?"
Vriska blew a raspberry. "English! Fire that damn thing already!"
He squinted his green eyes. "Still calculating distance madam First—"
"Just do it!" Vriska roared. He did it. The stone flew true and struck the beast full in the face. Stunned, it dropped Rose onto the mountaintop below and turned to face the Grimdark, unleashing its obscene shriek.
"Oh dear," said Jake.
Irritated, Vriska bellowed, "What now!?"
Hand on mouth, Aranea said "He's clearly upset that our captain has fallen to her certain death!"
"Actually, Ms. Serket," he said, with a nervous smile, "The distance Rose fell is quite survivable, especially since she appears to be in a prone position and therefore a relaxed state. I'm more concerned by the fact that the monster's flight appears to be completely unaffected by windspeed."
Vriska squinted. "Huh?"
"If we try to run now," he explained, "we'll not be able to escape."
Vriska sneered. "Who said anything about running?" Drawing her cutlass, a heavy blade of blued steel with a wicked notch near the end, she said, "Everyone to battle-stations! Aranea, wake up Slick and tell him to get his murderin' hat on!" The crew let out a loud cheer. As Aranea turned to leave, Vriska whispered, "and once you've done that, kip on over to that island and see if the captain's still alive."
Stunned, Aranea looked at her sister. "You don't think you can beat it, do you?" Vriska's face betrayed no expression other than confident determination, but Aranea could already tell it was true.
Nonetheless, Vriska laughed jovially and said, "Remember, I've got all the luck," and with just a little sting of telepathy, convinced Aranea to leave. Immediately.
"Hey y'all notice the flying horrorterror getting into a shouting match with a pirate ship," Dave asked as he joined his brother and best friends on the beach. "It's pretty cool so far. Taking bets?"
"Dave," Bro said, sounding grim. "The monster dropped what he was carrying. A girl."
He whistled. "Damn. Sure sucks to be her. Where'd she land so we can go bury her corpse—"
"She probably survived," Bro interrupted. "She landed in the fairy forest. I want you to go find her."
Dave mouthed an expletive. "Don't be such a girl," Bro warned. "It's tradition. You're supposed to get the Knight's clothes and a sword so you can go out and prove you're a man now. There's no point in just blindly following tradition without understanding the purpose behind it."
Dave groaned. "Damn why'd this broad have to get kidnapped on my birthday?"
Bro smirked. "I was gonna make you do something stupid and reckless anyway. This way it at least has a purpose other than being badass. Now draw your sword."
Dave complied and it slid free with a satisfying *snikt*. Bro snatched it out of his hands. "Kneel." Dave did so. Bro held the sword over his head. "Do you vow to protect the weak and defenseless?"
Dave looked up. "Bro, what are—?"
Bro kicked sand into his brother's face. Dave spat and coughed, and bit back a curse.
"Do you vow?" Bro repeated.
"Yes okay?" Dave snapped.
"Will you be without fear in the face of your enemies?" He continued.
"No, seriously, what—?" Bro kicked more sand into his face and his friends laughed. "Yes!"
"Will you be brave and upright so that the Goddesses may love thee?" His voice was changing, becoming regal and commanding instead of its usual low, uncaring tone.
Stunned at the change, Dave breathed out a "yes."
"Will you safeguard the helpless and do no wrong?" He intoned.
Quietly, Dave answered, "yes."
"That is your oath," said Bro, tapping both of Dave's shoulders with the blade. Helping him to his feet, he suddenly slapped Dave across the face. "And that's so you remember it," he said, voice returning to normal. "Go rescue that girl and be back by lunch." Dave ran off toward the eastern pinnacle, and was that a new spring in his step? Was his bearing just a bit more noble?
"I want to go with him, sensei," John said. Bro studied him over his sunglasses, amber eyes penetrating into blue. John looked down.
"You're not old enough to carry a sword," he said, and John's ears drooped. "Even if you were, you couldn't swing one to save your life. Probably the worst fencer I've ever taught. You'll make a great smith though, when you're old enough to build some real muscle." Bro produced a stout hammer with a twenty pound head and tossed it towards him. "Here, go on; make sure he doesn't get killed."
Grinning fiercely, white ears perking completely upright, John ran after his friend. Bro turned to go home, and saw Jade striding along the beach with a harpoon taller than she was leaning against her shoulder. "Where are you off to?" He asked.
"East," she said nonchalantly. Her ears were at a neutral angle and betrayed nothing. "I'm gonna hunt some wild pigs."
"You're not going to help Dave and your bother?" He said, hand on his chin.
Jade shook her head. "You know how Dave likes pork. We're having the dinner at our house, so I should provide the main course. Naturally."
"Naturally," said Bro, unconvinced. "I know I can't control you. Go help them, if you want."
She shrugged. Then she took off running.
Author's note: Nobody voted, so I'ma do both. Haha. Wind Waker is my favorite Zelda game. Evar! I love it so much it makes me want to cry T_T. I once got into a knife-fight with a dude who sent an overly critical letter to Nintendo Power. In my mind.
It's not without its flaws though. Don't get me wrong, anyone who dislikes it is either a liar or a communist, but it's too damn short and there's that long ass bit at the end with no proper dungeons. They could have thrown in a few, right? The ghost ship was a total missed opportunity! I'll try to 'fix' this, make it into something more readable. Bear in mind there will be significant differences from canon, especially in the late-game. The addition of party members for one.
I'm hoping that people who are just fans of Zelda will read this and become interested in Homestuck, and we can't have them going in thinking that the lovely Misses Serket are generic fantasy trolls.