A Heavenly Burden
A Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword novelization by Ebblenubble.
Y'know, now that I'm actually playing this game, why not write about it? Read the book, think about the lore, and enjoy the show!
Act I, Hands of a Great Destiny
Prologue, Blood on the Horizon
Desperate cries. People crying out her name. Blades clashing. Final words being uttered.
Monstrous yells. Taunting words of demons. People being gutted. The demise of the world at hand.
Here she stood — the last line of defense — bloody and battered, alone and almost hopeless. She was forced to retreat back into her chambers, listening to the utter agony just outside of her doors. Every last noise tortured her to her very core, but she knew that dying out there meant that all of those deaths would be in vain. As each sound was forcefully quieted or replaced by the cackles of evil monsters, the grip around her sword grew tighter until it was utterly white-knuckled. Only when the last sound outside, the one of her beloved, was quieted did she prepare for the last fight of her life.
No sun would rise until she did what had to be done.
BAM!
The doors rattled but held firm.
BAM!
Little nails and bits of the hingest began falling loose.
BAM!
A massive dent appeared right in the middle of the door, showing a mere crack of the outside world.
Compared to the pristine, white and gold room she stood in, the blood red of the moon and the endless fires outside looked like hell itself.
In the end, she knew that's exactly what it had become.
CRAASH!
"GYAH!" her beloved yelled, thrown straight through the door, bursting it open. Immediately, she went to his side, gently holding his arm, so badly broken it could easily be torn off. His armor, once stronger than the metal used to make her sword, had been cracked and shattered beyond repair, turning it into a shadow of what it used to be. Scars littered his body and not one was bloodless, not to mention the bruises and bones jutting out from his skin. Most of all, though, was his sacred cloth: It had been torn to shreds, barely holding onto him. "I-I'm… so… sorry… Y-Your Highness…" he groaned, falling limp in her arms.
"Just as weak as your ancestor," a deep, almost growling voice remarked as the figure spat right in her beloved's eye. It sparked a burning fire of rage in her heart as she stood to face him, dead in the eye. Scales of ash were scattered across every inch of his body, built like stone and colored just the same way. Mere scratches covered its surface, already healing at an incomprehensible rate. Behind him was his cape, made from pure agony manifested in its most disgusting form. His hair, more like a mane, was just like a flame, burning everything it touched.
In the center of his forehead was the one mark from his past that survived — her only hope of killing him. "I believe I am right when I assume you are even weaker, yes? You are the damsel, are you not?"
"Don't you damsel me," she countered, gripping her sword with her other hand. "I saw what your first vessel did, Demon King. Not one trick you hold can surprise me. Not. Any. More." The demons and monsters behind him cackled with their snorts and roars. As for the Demon King himself, he hardly reacted — very unlike the way he used to be. "I heard you on the battlefield. You want someone who can offer you some kind of challenge. Well…" —she spaced out her feet and furrowed her brow, tensing up— "you found her."
CLANG!
Just the sound of the Demon King dropping his blade nearly deafened her. Despite it, she held firm, refusing to even show a flicker of weakness. "If I may," he quietly said, no longer growling his words, "I respect you for putting up a fight. Had you surrendered—"
"I would never consider it. Not in a million years."
He chuckled, marching toward her, turning the room blood red behind him with his Malice. "Good. But this… THIS is not a war I will lose." He raised his blade slowly into the air, tapping its edge with hers.
CLASH!
She instantly buckled beneath his strength, taking a knee as he slammed his blade down onto her. "FIGHT DAMN YOU!" As soon as he raised his blade for another strike, she spun away from it, slashing at his chest before swinging for his head — missing by inches. Losing stamina, she weakly swung again, getting her blade caught between his fingers. Without hesitation, he threw her and her blade into a wall, cracking it and sending shards of glass come crashing down, cutting her skin. It all shattered or burned to ashes against the Demon King's body. "Stand. NOW!"
No matter how much she tried, her limp was painfully obvious to everyone, earning mocking laughs from her opponent. Somehow, despite her attempts to refuse it, it got into her head. "What? Having… pity? R-really? You're… just a joke… I'd laugh at you…. No. I will be laughing over your dead body!"
Clap. Clap. Clap.
"Your spirit reminds me of your father. So determined, so persistent… but so prideful," he hissed, enraging her further. "I never asked him to bend the knee. All I asked was that he mark a line between my kingdom and his own. And when he refused, I showed him—"
"YOU SHUT UP!" She charged him, imbued with fury, and began swinging wildly, managing to scratch him once or twice before he caught the blade.
This time, he leaned in, staring her down with menace and evil glee in his eyes. "I cared about her, you know. But not even she would stand in the way of—"
Pow.
…
…
"And neither…" —he began crushing her blade as a deranged smile crossed his face— "will… YOU!"
FWOOOM!
"AGH!" he roared, backing up in pain and holding his burning hand. She looked at her sword, utterly undamaged, and saw it filled with a holy glow… summoned straight from the goddesses of old. If there was one weakness she knew the Demon King had, it was that light. It was the hope of the world — and her own hope. Even if it only gave her the smallest chance in the universe, it was just enough to win this fight.
"You… hehe… you haven't changed, Demon King," she mocked, standing straight and limping to the center of the room. At the very back of it was the very thing she had to protect — no matter the cost.
"And you have learned. I almost feel impressed. Now," —his hand healed and he slammed his blade onto the floor again, sending tiny bits of debris flying— "use it to fight me."
Fwoom!
"Gladly."
She ran toward him and swung toward his leg, not bothering to check if it landed before aiming for his chest. Unfazed by both strikes, he lifted his free hand up and smacked her across the room, sending her careening into a table. By the time she could think straight, he already grabbed her head and threw her back into the ground, raising his foot to crush her. Just before it did, she raised her blade right into the sole of his foot, slashing out of it to trip him and get on top of him — giving her a chance to relentlessly attack. For every deflected shot, two landed in its place, finally making some scars on his chest — the smallest sign of hope.
While she got wrapped up in her aimless strikes, he slashed at her, cutting her stomach badly. In the blink of an eye, he had kicked her off and slammed her into a wall, choking her out with a single hand. The second she stabbed it, he tore the blade from his wrist with a single finger before dragging her face through solid marble. "What kind of goddess are you?!" he mocked, lifting her into the air and tossing her back toward her sword. Now, she stood in front of her throne, weak and beaten beyond words. Not one bit of her was left unharmed. "You retreated, you know. Everyone out there is dead because of your cowardice." He lifted his sword and pointed it toward her as she barely ripped hers from the wall. "Redeem your cowardice with a warrior's death."
…
…
"Well? REDEEM YOURSELF!"
CLAANG!
…
…
"FUCKING FIGHT ME YOU COWARD!"
CLAANG!
"Ha, ha, ha… haha haha haha…." She smiled weakly, looking him in the eyes and holding the hilt of her sword like a cane. "No. I… won't." The utter shock on his face was almost amusing in some sick way, amplified tenfold when she took a knee and bowed her head. Just like her mother always told her: work smarter, not harder. It was one of many pieces of advice she lived by… ever since she last saw the Demon King as a young girl. "I accept your rule, Demon King."
"NO!" he choked her once again, lifting her higher into the air with bubbling rage in his blood that blinded him. "Fight. Me. For. That. Relic. NOW!"
"I… don't want to. Just… ow… take it," she lied, grinning and lifting her sword ever so slightly. "Please… I've fought my fight. Take it."
"I. Will. KILL you for it. So, just, FI—"
FWOOOOOOM!
He went stiff.
The crack in his forehead was no longer empty.
Now it was filled with the light of her sword.
She won… but was only inches from death's door.
"Fi. That's… quite the name. I'll take it."
"And… Demise is mine."
Wooosh!
Crack.
All that remained of the Demise were ashes as the rest was sucked into her blade. Every monster that once lured and slaughtered innocents outside had collapsed onto the ground.
Agony had been silenced.
Defeated but happy, she fell into her throne, soaking its once shiny gold with blood. She smiled faintly as she saw her beloved twitch on the ground slightly, wounded just as much as she was but still alive. As for her, though… she wouldn't live to say goodbye. But there was hope — there was a sunrise. The deep red of the world outside now flickered with soft yellows and warm oranges, colors she once bathed in now felt like a dream beyond reach. Death was just as cruel as she remembered.
But its slow approach gave her one last chance to end the world's evil once and for all.
Footsteps began to approach her door as her wounds put her in a daze. "Lady Hylia!" Impa, her closest assistant besides her loved one, shouted through the door. "Oh, no… are you—"
"Impa. Come here," she calmly said, losing her grip on her sword. "I ask that you listen closely." Impa was quick to join her side until Hylia placed her hand upon her shoulder. "But I won't speak a word." Hylia sent all of her thoughts straight into Impa's head, planning out every last detail of a great destiny she made mere seconds ago. Despite that, not one bit of it was rushed or crude. "You, from now until this fate is completed, are my mouthpiece. Speak the words I won't live to speak. Live the life I should have lived. And when that is done, I shall grant you peace."
"Lady Hylia, I—"
"I know. I know. But you must do this. I will do the rest."
"…Alright." She shakily lifted Hylia's hand off of her shoulder, spending one last second to hold it as some way of offering sympathy. "Why won't you say goodbye?"
"I won't have to, Impa. Nor will you."
"I… heh… can never ask you anything, can I?"
Thud, pat, thud, pat, thud, pat.
There she went, off to gather every last person who survived the war — and to prepare them for what would come next. Now, she had to do one last thing.
"May the goddesses of old bless those with the power of this ancient relic — passed down to me from my parents. First, bless the strongest king in the land, far south in the sandy deserts, with power beyond what he can comprehend. Then, bless the one I plan to return as in the next few thousand years, the one who shall share my form in the land of the skies, with the wisdom of countless lifetimes. And, last but most of all, bless the one I love most and all of the generations after him with the courage and heart that can kill demons. I pray these words come to pass… and that they keep the world safe — for all time's sake."
Life faded from her eyes as the sun finally rose, clearing the red sky and replacing it with soft blues and a glimmer of hope.
Her people would live.
Her kingdom would live.
A/N - Hey, hey, I'm back! Well, you knew that.
First and foremost, I'll briefly cover how my first story is doing — you know, the one that's been ice cold for months. Skip over this first paragraph if this is the first story of mine you're reading. No, it's not abandoned; yes, I plan to return to it and finish it; no, that will not be soon. I'd give a thousand reasons, but nobody has time for that. Frankly, though, I feel like this story will do pretty swell when I get it up and running (a.k.a., act two.)
Now, back to this story. It won't be updated as frequently as I'd like to update it since I haven't planned all too much just yet. And my old viewers sure know how that turns out. Still, I'll do my best to keep this story away from the double digits of pages. From what I know, when it's there, it's gone (excluding all other languages except English. Otherwise, it will get there naturally).
I wonder how this story will turn out, honestly. Maybe I'll like it. Maybe I'll hate it.
For now, though, I'll make it.
Have a lovely day and keep reading if you like this!
-Ebblenubble.