Zelink BotW Sequel/ Legend of Zelda and the Last Knight

Chapter- Over ten thousand years ago, today

Chapter-

Over Ten-thousand years ago, Today

The door slammed open, shuddering the frail wooden walls of the small cottage with the wind of a hurricane. Out from the flash of lightning came the silhouette of a hooded man in the doorway, his weary eyes glowing in the darkness as the cindering embers lighted them up from the hearth. His demeanor remained cold and stony, even against the raging warmth of the fireplace where the middle-aged and curly brown-haired owner of the home sat.

Startled, the owner spoke. "Why, Sahasrahla, it's you... but I wasn't expecting you for at least three months? What brings you to Ironside? And at this unholy hour, no less?"

"It is time, Eliazar. It is time," replied the stern man in robes.

"I know that face well enough not to prod any further, but you know me well enough to know that I just can't help myself. Are you sure? Is it really time?" He finished with an eager rise in his voice as if he waited years for this moment, come at last.

"Yes."

"Well, don't just stand there; come in, come in! You're soaked! You'll catch your death of cold out in that swamp! Been pouring for days now!"

With that invitation, the robed elder with his long, rain-drenched white beard lowered his hood, revealing a cleanly shaven head as he stepped further into the home.

"Yes...as we spoke about before... everything, my whole life's work," Sahasrahla began, offering a sober grin as he moved toward the dining table in the middle of the humble abode. A single lit candle sat upon the table, the only light apart from the flaming hearth. "All that I have ever done and have prepared for. All of it has led me to this one task. I — we mustn't fail."

Gulping at the words, the younger man ceased fiddling about with his previous matters, moving away from the stove brewing over the fire to give all his attention to his guest. Not two steps later he stopped suddenly, alarmed by the sudden coo of baby.

Confused more than astonished, he eyed his friend in shock. Before he could utter even a syllable, he saw it as clearly as the nose in front of his face. Swaddled in cloth, safely tucked in Sahasrahla's arms beneath the old man's cloak...was an infant.

As he glanced both to him and the small child, Sahasrahla's deep blue eyes shone with dire urgency as if it carried the weight of the entire world.

"Oh, so, this must be the boy then?" Eliazar ventured to ask. "The one you mentioned would come to be in your care long ago. I have to admit, I never actually believed your—"

"Believe it," the older man interrupted. "Yes, this is the son of Sir Locke and Lady Aryll of the Burntwood. And I must keep him safe at all costs. Everything we hold dear now depends upon him."

"What? How? He's a mere child! An infant, no less!"

"And after today, he will be the last of the Holy Order and his bloodline. There will be no other."

"But that cannot be! News has already come! The KNIGHTs and the Queen are battling that thing on the plains of Veranyah even as we speak!" argued Eliazar, who shuffled about anxiously. "They say that thing annihilated the armies of the Western Fiefdoms before the KNIGHTs and the Queen could join the fray. If they had only gotten there sooner, perhaps they might have been saved. Regardless, if it is the case that they are there now, perhaps peace may be restored after all! Maybe they can win!"

"They will, and she will be victorious," Sahasrahla calmly replied.

"Then why lose hope? Why now if victory is assured? I don't understand!"