4th installment of the VGNU.
In a time of peace and prosperity in the Hyrule Kingdom, a new evil awakens.
The fate of the future rests on the shoulders of a young boy, as history begins to repeat itself.
(Originally published 2018-2019)
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The monument of Hyrule, Hyrule Castletown, stood at the north of its island continent home, watching over all it surveyed. Towers of veined marble, decorated in golden bells and blue tapestries emblazoned with the emblem of the Hyrulian people; the Triforce. Directly south of the big city, where most of the Hyrulians lived, just off the main road, was a narrow path of dirt and stone. Not unkempt or crippled by overgrowth, but a tidy little path that wound up a small hill. There sat the humble home of an elder man named Smith, just a simple wooden hut nearly hidden beneath wide trees and tall grass. Simple though it may have been, it was one which got many visitors.
Visitors such as Hyrule's very own, Princess Zelda.
As she walked up the dusty cobblestone path she could hear the sounds of Smith forging yet another master piece. His blades were the reason many knew his name, and visited his home. The clashing of hammer against sword rang even as far as the castle town's drawbridge, if you listened close enough.
The closer one got to the house however, the louder it got, so when Zelda arrived at the doorstep she doubted Smith would even hear her knocking. Yet she tried anyway, and to her surprise the hammering stopped.
"It's open!" Smith yelled from inside. A moment later, she could hear him getting back to work.
Zelda entered the little house, peeking her head around the corner into the side room. "Good morning, Master Smith!" she said cheerfully.
Smith looked up from his sword, not expecting to be greeted by Zelda this early in the morning. "Goodness me!" he exclaimed. "Princess Zelda! Did you sneak out of the castle and come all this way alone? The minister is sure to be worried about you! You know how he gets!"
Never having cared much for the minister's baseless worrying, Zelda rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't worry about him," Zelda said to Smith, fully stepping into the room. "He'll be fine. Where's Link? The whole town is bustling for the annual Picori Festival! I thought he and I might go together. Would you mind terribly?"
Smith sat his sword down and looked at her directly. "Oh, is that what you're here for?" he asked suspiciously. "Well, Link was up late helping me last night, and he's still asleep... But I do have an errand at the castle... Yes, that should be fine." Grabbing a long wooden pole that had been leaning against the wall, he looked up at the ceiling. He hit the pole against the ceiling several times. "Link, time to get up!"
...
Link snored, sound asleep and dreaming of golden octorocks.
"Link!" Smith yelled from downstairs, followed by series of loud thumps. "Get up!"
Link startled awake, hitting his head on the board above him. He blinked away the dreariness, not ready to be awake yet as he stumbled out of bed. His foot caught in the blankets, Link fell face first on the floor. After untangling himself from the bed that was just as ready to return to sleep as he was, he quickly grabbed a tunic out of the open dresser nearby and rushed downstairs.
