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 shouting out her name. Blades clashing. Final words uttered.
Monstrous yells. Taunting words of demons. People gutted. The demise of the world at hand.
The sky, once beautiful and blue, was bright red and filled with plumes of smoke. Birds that brought people from place to place now replaced by demons. They dragged bags full of corpses through the bloodied sky, cackling. The sound, like a sick musical, filled the air. Pristine structures, much like the one she stood in, were now coated in many layers of blood and grime. Every time a life got snuffed out and overshadowed, she shook. The reality of fighting the one thing she hadn't seen in decades grew ever closer. And yet, it was quite familiar.
Other than the stakes this time around.
Here she stood — the last line of defense — bloody and battered, alone and almost hopeless. The demons forced her to retreat into her temple, making her listen to the utter agony right on her doorstep. Every last death tortured her to her core, but she knew that her dying out there would make them meaningless. As demons quieted the world and replaced it with cackles, the grip around her sword grew tighter. Her knuckles soon grew white. Only when her beloved bodyguard's shouts go quiet did she prepare for the last fight of her life.
No sun would rise until she did what had to do.
BAM!
The doors rattled but held firm.
BAM!
Little nails and bits of the hinges began falling loose.
BAM!
A massive dent appeared right in the middle of the door, showing a mere crack of the outside world.
The blood red of the moon and the endless fires outside looked like hell itself.
In the end, she knew that was exactly what it had become.
CRAASH!
"GYAH!" her bodyguard yelled, thrown straight through the door by the demon's leader. Their, as she knew him, Demon King. The impact burst it off of its hinges, revealing the full extent of the outside world. Not much was different than the slight peek from earlier. Immediately, she went to her bodyguard's side, holding his arm, so demolished its bones had turned to dust. His armor, once stronger than the metal used to make her sword, now sat in pieces on the floor. She could hardly make out what it once resembled. Gashes littered his body and not one was bloodless, combined with the bruises and marks on his skin. But, damaged most of all, was his sacred cloth. The war outside tore it to shreds and drenched it in his blood. "I-I'm… so… sorry… Y-Your Highness…" he groaned, falling limp in her arms.
"Just as weak as your ancestor," a deep, growling voice remarked as the figure it belonged to spat right in his eye. It sparked a burning fire of rage in her heart as she stood to face the figure, staring it dead in the eyes. Scales of ash were scattered across every inch of his arms and back, built like stone and colored the same way. Mere scratches covered his chest's surface, already healing at an incomprehensible rate. Behind him was his cape, made from pure agony manifested in its most disgusting form. It was alive, with tendrils and veins pulsing at the excitement of seeing more bloodshed. His hair, more like a mane, was like a flame, incinerating everything it touched.
In the center of his forehead was the one crack 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 and preparing for war. "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!
The very sound of the Demon King slamming his blade onto the floor, echoing across every wall, nearly deafened her. Despite it, she held firm, refusing to even show a flicker of weakness. Maybe it was out of fear, maybe it was out of strength — in her current state, there was no difference. "If I may," he 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…" —his tone reverted into an intimidating growl, almost making her quiver— "THIS is not a war I will lose." He raised his blade high into the air, far above his head, and roared like some unholy beast.
CLASH!
She buckled beneath her sword, taking a knee before she fell. He slammed his blade down onto her with an unbeatable amount of force again, echoing across the room. "FIGHT DAMN YOU!" As soon as he raised his blade again, she danced away from it and slashed at his chest. She swung for his head — missing by inches. She weakly swung again, getting her blade caught between his fingers. Without hesitation, he threw her and her blade into a wall. It cracked upon impact, sending glass shards crashing down from the skylights above. The rest shattered or burned to ashes against the Demon King's body. "Stand. NOW!"
Despite her attempts to hide it, her limp was obvious to every monster in her doorway. He chuckled in response to the obvious weakness, cutting a gash into her pride. Somehow, despite her attempts to refuse the laugh and keep fighting, it got into her head. Adrenaline and underlying rage had clouded her mind. Knowing that today was the day they would fight, she couldn't blame herself for it. "What? Having… pity?" she sarcastically asked, smiling with a shade of madness. "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 as he approached. "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 like a maniac. Somehow, she managed 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.
Her pathetic little punch cut his words off — but not with pain.
…
…
"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, miraculously undamaged, and saw it filled with a holy glow. Her determination and powers of old had summoned that glow once again. If there was one weakness she knew the Demon King had, it was that light. It was the hope of the world — and her hope. It should have come sooner, despite her lack of control, but it was better to have it now than never. Even if it only gave her the smallest chance in the universe, it was just enough to win this fight. Exactly like the last fight of her father's life: A glimmer of hope was all that she needed.
"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, behind her throne and locked behind a wall, 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, he lifted his free hand 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. He raised his foot to crush her, still maintaining his awful grin. Seconds before it did, she jammed her blade right into the sole of his foot and heard him roar. She took advantage, slashing outward to trip him and jump on top of him. Now, she had her chance to attack like the world depended on it — because it did. For every deflected shot, two landed in its place, making some scars on his chest — but negligible ones at that.
While she got wrapped up in her aimless strikes, he slashed up at her, cutting her stomach badly. In the blink of an eye, he had kicked her off and slammed her into another 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 the marble floor. "What kind of goddess are you?!" he roared, lifting her into the air and tossing her back toward her sword. Now, she lay in front of her throne, weak and beaten to her breaking point. Not one bit of her remained 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 ripped hers from the wall. "Redeem your cowardice with a warrior's death."
…
…
"Well? REDEEM YOURSELF!" he demanded.
CLAANG!
…
…
"FUCKING FIGHT ME YOU COWARD!"
CLAANG!
The kind of rage he felt looking at her as she refused to move or speak gave her an idea.
"Ha, ha, ha… haha haha haha…." She smiled her exhausted smile, looking him in the eyes and holding the hilt of her sword like a cane. "No. I… won't." The shock on his face was almost amusing in some sick way, amplified tenfold when she took a knee and bowed her head. 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, blinded by the bubbling rage in his blood. It was another part of her plan. "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, somehow able to keep it out of his sight. She wasn't even looking him in the eye — she was looking at the one true weakness that remained of him. "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 she filled it 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."
"I… will… return."
"And I, too."
Wooosh!
She fell to the floor, exhausted and broken… but alive… for now.
Crack, the floor went, adding one more scar to this once sacred place.
All that remained of the Demon King were ashes as the rest got sucked into her blade. Every demon outside had collapsed onto the ground, dead. Every monster ran away in fear. Only one last demon stood in her doorway. The lean, shadowed figure stared in disbelief at the ashes, dropping its blades. When their gazes met, she lifted her sword and flicked it upward. "Go." In a flash of black and crimson diamonds, the figure vanished into thin air. "Thank the goddesses," she muttered, lowering her sword.
The adrenaline that once numbed her pain faded, causing a barrage of stings, aches, and burns to flood her wounds and bones. By some miracle, she could still stand after the wave passed — but barely. Her blade was the only thing keeping her upright, its glow fading away. "Y-your highness…" her bodyguard muttered, directing her attention back to him. He may have passed out, but he didn't pass away. "Are you… gyah…" —blood seeped from his wounds at an increased rate— "okay?"
She mustered up all her available strength to hug him, feeling her eyes well up as her pain worsened. "N-no… I'm not."
Death was as cruel as she remembered.
But its slow approach gave her one last chance to end the world's evil once and for all. If not in her lifetime, then in her descendant's.
"Get the relic," she shakily uttered, backing up as her legs began to buckle. "There is… something I… must do." Looking at the blood that colored her gown red, with flickers of teal blood within, inspired her to limp faster toward her throne. Despite the pain it caused, it was worth it. All it would change, in the end, was how she felt in the moment. Her bodyguard already had the relic prepared when she got to her throne, staring intently at it. "If you would—"
"Lady Hylia!" a woman called out from the doorway of the temple, dressed in dark shades and very wounded. "Are you…." She went quiet, examining the wrecked room with horror. Only then did they all realize the blood, destruction, and pain — all of it — came from her. Her red and teal blood. Then again, the Demon King wasn't one to shed blood or be thrown around.
"Link," —she took the relic out of his hands and into hers, now shaking and bloody— "go help Impa gather the survivors. Leave… and…. Goodbye."
He tried to protest for one moment. She saw it in his eyes. But they both knew it mattered little, and he reluctantly walked away. She could tell his heart was completely shattered by looking at how he walked. Head hung. Fists clenched. Body stiff. Every step he took echoed across the whole room, blasting in her ears as her vision began to fade. She wanted to call out, to try and take back what she had said to see his face one more time… but never did. Hell would return and, when it did, it would have a vengeance. No amount of godhood would save her — or her people.
"In the name of Din… Nayru… Farore… and…" —she inhaled deeply, somehow muttering the last words— "I beg of you… let me have the…."
…
…
Dead silence. No more pain.
A light was in front of her.
…But she wasn't dead.
She now moved at a speed far more immeasurable than anything any Hylian knew, she now had the might to cause earthquakes with the flick of her wrist, and she could even ascend off of the floor and leave into the void above…. But she knew none of it would last for more than a second when she returned the relic to its place — or even a vessel. To her, though, it felt like she had an eternity to write out her last instructions — the ones that would save the world.
And after that…
The courage of her hero…
The wisdom of herself…
The pure yet corrupted power…
And the heart that held it all together…
They would carry out the mission she swore she would finish.
They would bear her burden.
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.
