A Quest to Seal the Darkness
A Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild novelization, retold with new eyes, by Ebblenubble.
Alright, let's end this properly, this time. Read the book, think about the lore, and enjoy the show!
Act I, Responsibility and Redemption
Prologue, Locked in a Cage
Thirty-six thousand five hundred days. Five thousand two hundred fourteen weeks. One thousand two hundred months. One hundred years. That was how long it had been since the princess had been trapped here. Ever since the world fell to evil, she had been counting the seconds that went by, one by one, tick by tick. Her power was being drained out of her body, now leaving her at a mere fraction of her former strength. As if she had that much, to begin with. Her Grace had forsaken her until the final moments she shared with the one she held most dear, and even then she could do nothing but hold the monster back.
To do her best and maintain her sanity, she spoke to herself about everything that had happened, barely keeping the screaming silence at bay. "I feel it," she softly whispered to herself, feeling another bit of light getting sucked out of her — something that she had gotten used to by now. "It's the hundredth anniversary of… him. And even now, I remember those weeks in detail — the running, the fear, the tragedy, the acceptance. Even if I've accepted this reality now, I still have to ask… why did it happen at all? Why was I forsaken? Why did I have to lose everything?" Her eyes began to well up with tears but she wiped them away with her worn dress. "And… why do I still struggle to think of it?"
Then… she felt long and sharp claws piercing her shoulders, followed by an aura — a phantom — of hatred passing by her and forming something in the distance. With this petrifying entrance, she knew that he had returned to her once again… after 50 more long years. Back when she first entered this new little pocket reality, she was surprised to find that she wasn't alone. However, her new roommate was certainly not welcoming. He was the Demon King, after all; someone with such a title and fear-inducing name couldn't be so amicable to… anyone. And, to her, he especially was.
"You know you deserve every bit of agony you feel," he told her, speaking with undertones of rage through his low and ghastly voice. "You have yet to accept that it was you who started all of this, even though you left me to ROT all of those millions of years ago. Few other people, the sickly or the soldiers, the citizens or the crowned, deserved what I did to them…" —he paused, staring blankly downward for a moment— "but I regret nothing. Because I did it to get to you. I did it all to cut you down and all of your fellow peace-loving cowards who tried to bathe the world in such insufferable light. And, no matter how many of mine must die, it will forever remain that way. But I am not one to surrender, especially to the likes of you."
Right in front of her stood the Demon King, his hands neatly tucked behind his back as he held his head up high like a knight at attention. His eyes lit up with a reddish essence and tiny black slits, glaring down at her like she was an overly dependent child. His body, from the details she could see, was aged and worn with long strands of limp hair and a brittle body skinnier than a stick, donning a torn toga that had been through hell. Even if she could notice all of these things, she knew she only saw a fragment of his actual appearance, considering that the phantom body he used lacked any color other than blood red and pitch black.
"I still don't understand," the princess replied, inching a bit closer to him and clutching her fists with bleary eyes. "What do you mean? I am not my ancestor, I exist here and now, I-I just don't get it…."
The Demon King rolled his eyes, exaggerating the movement with his body, unless it was just his natural tired sway. "You will never know what it is like to feel the pain of countless dead men. To think that you were blessed with" —he pointed toward his forehead, which donned a Gerudo crown with a bright glowing spot in the center of it— "THIS?! To think that someone blessed YOU with that power?! But no matter what, no matter what power you cowards keep getting blessed with, I will avenge every last man who died fighting for what this world deserved. This cycle will end with ME on your throne."
…There he went, bringing it up once more. Cycles and psychos, engagements and enraged, fear and freedom, love and loss… all repeated over and over and over and OVER.
Ever since their last meeting, she had recalled his words describing the cycle and memorized them by heart, still trying to decipher them even after 50 years. And now, she heard it in his voice once more. 'Long ago yet after I was left to rot by you, a fragment of my spirit cursed us all. The spirit of the hero, the blood of the goddess, the vessel of…' —usually he'd hesitate at this point— 'my hatred… and the bold who hold us… all doomed to repeat this over and over. But none of it would've ever happened if YOU hadn't sealed me away. And even then, NONE of it mattered.'
It would take millions of years to figure out what he meant whenever he brought her up as if she lived in his time. It wasn't like she could travel all of that time to find out, though.
She had tried many, many times to reach out to him, to see if it was possible to break through his shell. Nothing could prove that he was any different from what she had seen… but then again there was nothing that could prove the opposite, either. It never seemed to work every time she thought that, but she kept thinking about it and trying nonetheless. Positivity wasn't her thing, but it was all she had left. "Why can't we both be as strong as one another?" she asked with a partially positive tone, praying that he didn't roll his eyes once more. "I may have been a coward, I may have been blessed with something that even I didn't want, I may not know what pain you have been through, but I don't want this conflict! I just need to understand what I have done! Tell m—"
"I WAS SUPPOSED TO WIN!" he screeched, causing her to flinch and raise her arms. Her mind was instantly flooded with memories of being talked down to, being thrown aside like a child, and being emotionally torn apart by people she knew. That feeling of a flood of memories and feelings was commonplace by now. "The ONLY reason this world is bathed in that USELESS light is that YOU just HAD to give Rauru some motivation! I COULD'VE BEEN SOMEONE BETTER, DONE SOMETHING, AND CREATED A WORLD THAT MY DEAREST WOULD'VE WANTED! BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?! YOU WEREN'T SUPPO—"
"Did you ask for this?!" she shouted back, cutting him off as tears ran down her face. 'Been someone better? Created a world that my dearest would've wanted?' Those words finally told her something that she had only vaguely suspected since the start: The Demon King and the Gerudo King were two different beings, packed tightly into one body that fought between the two identities. "I cannot understand your pain, but I know that whatever hatred you feel toward me isn't from the good man stuck inside that rotten body!" The phantom body in front of her jolted back, starting to twitch and fight itself. 'It's working!'
"Please, Ganondorf, fight! You are more than the words of the Demon King, you are a man who wants to achieve greatness! Please!"
…
…Had it worked?
For a brief moment, his body relaxed and stood straight, and his eyes grew normal with a soft yellow sheen. "I… I know, Zelda," he softly said, speaking in a gentle, husky voice. "I… am a monster. I can't hold him back for long, but I need you to know something. Listen keenly, princess…."
"What is it?" she asked, her eyes widening with surprise and excitement, hopeful at the prospect of finally freeing Ganondorf from the claws of the Demon King. "What do I need to hear?"
Suddenly, his eyes exploded with blood-red flames and returned to their tiny slits, now leaking a reddish-black substance. She gasped and stepped back, silent tears falling from her face as she watched the body fight against itself once more. This time, the Demon King won. He chuckled, turning around with the sounds of cracking bones and a cruel smile on his face. "I must commend you, princess," he said, his tone meant to be infuriating and taunting, "for having the wisdom to see the cracks in my shell. But you cannot save him. You will never save him. I chose this body to honor the man who first prayed to me out of desperation. His pleas to have his people saved and protected were met with my iron fist — an act that brought great satisfaction to me. I have held him here, and I will keep him here, no matter how many times you both try."
…She just started crying. It was silent with little more than tiny whimpers and whispers, but she still broke. She was so, SO close to freeing him, to ending whatever cycle of pain he continuously spoke of, and yet… her chance had gone away, just like that. It had forsaken her — just like the goddess that she spent year after year praying to, back when the world was safe. Was this her fate? Was her father right her whole life?
Was she really an heir to nothing but failure?
…Maybe… she was. Maybe… everyone who ever called her names was right. She was a failure. She shouldn't have been born. A piece of hay had more worth than her. At least a piece of hay had no legacy to live up to — it had no legacy to disrespect. Her mother should have just let her die. What was the point in trying anything anymore? Since the start, nothing worked. Life was pretty much meaningless. Even death wasn't willing to welcome her. That was how little she meant to the universe. That was why everyone abandoned her, whether in the past or now. Giving up was mercy.
And yet, in spite of all of that, something out there pushed her. Something out there. Or… was it someone?
From her very core came this inspirational warmth, a loving embrace that acted as a signal. Although it came to her slowly, it still got into her head and, like a gentle whisper, it told her one thing: He had returned. Her swordsman, the one she had lost so long ago, had returned after the past hundred years. Now, it was time, now it was the time to save the world… to free herself. She had been waiting for this, and now it was here! She could finally, finally get some closure. And so would her friends.
"You feel that?" the Demon King asked with a faint tinge of fear in his voice coinciding with his lingering hatred. "I feel his 'courageous' presence once more, I feel his weapon clawing at me once more, I feel it all. I assume I am not limited to this?"
"H-he's back…" she whispered, excitedly turning to the Demon King, who was now a bit closer with his hands still behind his back. "He's back! He's back!" She began to chant the words over and over like a mantra, feeling hope pulse through her veins as she stared into the swirls of black and pink fire surrounding them, watching as a golden light began to glow. Now calmer and with a determined look on her face, she stared intently at the Demon King, meeting his eyes without fault.
"Do you think he has a chance?" Ganondorf asked calmly, a smile flickering across his face before the Demon King overtook it once more.
"A guarantee."
"Why so?"
Her eyes sparkled. "Because he has nothing to lose."
Someone who had nothing to lose had no fear — and no fear meant pure strength… right?
A/N - The Final Start.
Heh.
Y'know, I'm writing this on a new Google document just so I can get a slight thrill and actual challenge of WRITING and not REVISING because oh my Hylia I've done that so much. When I realized I wasn't getting anywhere, I decided to finally start with a clean slate but base it on what I initially wrote. I've been a sitting duck for nearly three months now. As a writer, I daydream — a lot. And I always wind up daydreaming about the future of my stories and the future stories that I will grow to write, and I keep having to remind myself that I have to work to chase those dreams. But now, I am!
With summer on the horizon (oh, yeah, I'm a student still :p), I've got plenty of time on my hands. Let's use it!
Have a lovely day, and keep reading if you like this!
-Ebblenubble.
(Outdated A/N :p)