Although this isn't my first fic, it is my first time trying something with Zelda. The majority of this takes place after the events in Wind Waker, so expect spoilers from any number of Zelda games. Enjoy! )
I own nothing except the characters not owned by Nintendo.
I have never died.
As evil always shadows the world, so I am bound to it, ever fated to drive it back so that it may come again.
I have had many forms, all inherently the same; they pass and fade like the mists while my soul still lingers between the worlds of spirit and flesh. The evil will not leave, and so I will not.
It is wearying; a deeper weariness than the sort that is relieved by a simple night's slumber. This is the fatigue of generations, of spirits not allowed to rest. It burns deep within the soul, but I will still continue on. Darkness never sleeps; why should I?
It is my fate. Some might see this immortality of sorts as a gift, but it is a curse, a doom that keeps me bound to this world. Perhaps it is my love for the people that live there; perhaps it is my connection to two others also burdened by the same unending fate. Perhaps it is simply my destiny.
Whatever it is, I cannot walk away from it.
This night that I fight against endures; for while its physical form is vanquished time and again, its essence lives on in the hearts of men, and will seduce one that listens to its sweet whispers of power, so that he may rise and pull me back into this world once more.
For while evil may be defeated, it can never truly vanish.
Now I hear voices; the swirling vapors of the ether are fading. It calls once more.
I awaken…He had searched for a long time.
When he had last seen her, she'd flown away… even though he knew her presence was no longer needed, he looked anyway.
Perhaps the only reason he was unimpeded in his search was that he journeyed to where he needed to be, and stopped the spread of evil once more, in three days' short span.
And yet he still could not find her.
Slowly, his horse carried him back to the land he'd left behind so easily, the land that seemed to have no other need for him. Horse and rider passed beneath the cool green shadows of the eternal forest that had no end and no beginning. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the stump that marked his passage through this land, and now his exit.
A thin finger of light stabbed down through the tree boughs suddenly, lighting up his path far brighter than any ordinary light might have. Without hesitation, he stepped through the light.
Now he was back within familiar woods.
Light sparkled about the air beneath the trees now. He could hear the whispers of magic that floated about this place. The soft murmur of a gently flowing stream brushed his ears, calling him home. He inhaled deeply of the heady, woody scent of this place that he'd known for so long, the place that was now far too small to hold him. He'd seen too much of the outer world to ever be completely comfortable in these woods again.
He could never again lose himself.
Sighing, he guided the horse through the living forest, but paused before a hollow log. There was nothing out of the ordinary here, nothing in particular that should have drawn his attention. Yet some sixth sense gave him hesitation.
Something was wrong.
He realized now that he should have met some of the inhabitants of this forest by now. Yet the child-like people were strangely absent. They could hide themselves well, blending into any leaf and branch with flawless accuracy, but they knew him, and would have no reason to hide.
He hastened his horse's stride. She guided him out of the woods into the home of the forest folk. Once out from under the shelter of the forest branches, he realized it was raining, not gently, but not hard either. The horse trod upon something that squished, then cracked. Curious, he leaned out of the saddle for a closer look – then pulled himself upright, aghast.
He'd walked over a dead body.
Shuddering, he was thankful he could not recognize the face in the rain, which was beginning to increase. A pall of dread settled over him; was this the reason he had seen no one on his way here? He rode down into the village, and was greeted by a scene of carnage.
Small, green-clad bodies lay limp upon the trampled grass. Dark blood stained the purity of the broken plants that had once grown within the village. Upon each face – if it was recognizable – was a look of horror and deep fear. He swallowed hard as he recognized the auburn-haired leader of the forest village. Although the man had been a jerk to him on numerous occasions, he'd never dreamed of such a ghastly end for him… nor wished it upon him.
Blackened stumps were all that remained of once gentle green houses. Only a few had escaped utter ruin. Some were merely smashed; others had been set aflame. The now pouring rain from the heavens, though, had long ago doused the raging fires. The sky itself seemed to be weeping for the senseless death and demolition.
Once he counted the bodies, though, he realized that not the whole village had been slain. It did not seem like it, but there were far too few dead. A spark of hope flared inside him; perhaps some had escaped or were hiding.
Still… if the forest – which had long escaped the attention of the outside world – was so badly destroyed, what must the rest of the land be like? The tiny flame of hope was suddenly smothered under a deluge of fear for the rest of the people in this once peaceful world.
Sopping strands of hair fell into his face; he pushed them aside, but it didn't make much difference. He still could not see further than ten feet into the storm. He took off his soaked cap and wrung it out uselessly. Plopping it back on his matted golden hair, he urged his horse forward through the waterfall of rain. Her hooves sank into the supersaturated ground and pulled up with a sucking noise if she did not move quickly enough. He urged her forward into a faster trot, not quite a gallop. Together they splashed through the ruined village and out of the forest into a wider field.
Once outside, he saw his fears were not unfounded. Trees had been razed to the ground, not even stumps remaining where they had once stood proudly. The brick wall that ran alongside the path had been torn down, and he could see a faint black outline in the distance that looked ragged, as if something had bitten off the top. He knew then that the nearby ranch had not escaped the hand of destruction that had swept this land.
No longer caring, he set the horse to a gallop, plunging ahead in the rain that was falling in buckets from the sky now. Suddenly his horse reared, with the sound of splashing hooves. Looking down, he realized that they were wading across ground that should have been high and dry. Ahead he could see the jagged silhouette of the castle he knew was there, but it did not look the way he remembered it. The horse veered to the side suddenly, and he could see the top of a chunk of stone sticking out above the water. The moat was overflowing, and so was the river to his right. Underneath the deluge from the heavens, the water was slowly rising.
He did not go much further before his horse could no longer walk. She balked from the deeper water, but he urged her forward with gentle pats and a soft kick. Reluctantly, she began to swim. Underwater lay the broken remnants of the drawbridge that had once let in visitors and kept out howling wolves at night.
They reached the farther shore, and the horse could walk once more. Shaking water out of her mane, which was immediately soaked through once more, she continued forward only with further encouragement from her rider. Steel-shod hooves clattered and splashed against the drowning cobblestones that lined the streets of the formerly lively market. Now an ungentle hand had torn down many buildings, and the fountain in the center was shattered and overflowing.
The horse stepped quickly around the destruction, and she hurried towards their ultimate destination: the temple at the edge of town. He rode swiftly up the steps and through dead surroundings to the stairs of the ancient temple. There he dismounted and led his horse into the shelter of the first corridor before running ahead. He burst into a darkened room, the vaulted ceiling no longer illuminated and stretching into shadow. The only light came from a large pedestal in front of a closed doorway. He could see a girl, shivering in her thin soaked dress, kneeling there, praying.
He ran to her, his wet boots slapping against the cold stone floor. She started at the sound, stood, and turned slowly towards him. Her sad eyes told him all that he needed to know. He gathered her close to him, in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, and a single tear slid out of her eye, dropping to the floor to mingle with the rest of the dirty puddles of water.
"It is too late," she whispered. "The gods are burying this kingdom forever beneath the waves. The people who survived are ordered to the mountaintops, but I must stay to make sure our destructor does not escape his punishment."
He nodded, stroking her saffron hair gently. He would stay by her side until the end.
She squeezed his hand. "For the people who will live… the gods have taken back their own." For the first time he noticed that the mark was gone from the back of her hand. Without looking, he knew his own would be gone too. Perhaps now, they could rest at last…
"For the future," she murmured.
The water spilled into the temple, rising faster than ever. He held her close as it rose past his waist… to his neck… over their heads…
Two vague figures floating beneath the water were soon lost to the darkness of the depths.
The once grand kingdom was buried beneath the waves of the sea. Its history became a story for children. The story became a legend. The legend became a myth. Even the myth was barely remembered until, centuries later, the evil rose again. Once more, a hero appeared to beat it back, this time sealing it with the blade of evil's bane. The seas fell to swallow it up, and the evil was long lost and forgotten as it had been for ages.
Two thousand years passed in peace. The waters of the great ocean gradually receded over the centuries, finally sinking back to their former levels. Nothing remained aboveground of the mighty kingdom that had been vanquished so many eons ago. The waters had done their work thoroughly… yet perhaps not as thoroughly as it appeared on the surface.
The people who had survived the flooding left their descendents, hundreds of generations later, to colonize the new land. They had no knowledge of what the land once was.
They called it… Hyrule.