Zelink BotW Sequel/ Legend of Zelda and the Last knight- Swords and Roses

Over Ten-thousand Years Ago, the Year Before

"Step lively, Eliazar. The gloom here is restless and has no respect for stragglers. It's hard enough as it is navigating through this muck without your help," the elder admonished, his voice echoing through the dark, misty cave. His torch flickered hesitantly as he descended the primeval stone steps, casting wavering shadows that danced on the spiraling staircase leading into the mouth of an abyss. "Remember, the hands of time never tire."

"So much for expecting any help from the goddess, huh?" retorted Eliazar, the shorter, curly-haired priest, trying to keep pace with the cloaked sagely man. "I thought she would have at least helped you; you are her favorite!" Eliazar said. His voice trailed off in an uneasy chuckle that ricocheted off the cold stone walls, dissipating into the foreboding darkness.

Ignoring the jibe, Sahashrala hoisted his torch, illuminating the intricate murals etched on the walls, barely discernible through the relentless decay of time. Dusty cobwebs and desiccated moss clung defiantly to the remnants of ancient, chiseled stone. "Every challenge she casts in our path molds us into beings worthy of the divine. She can no longer intervene. That task is left to us, her faithful servants. With each trial overcome, we inch closer to enlightenment so that we may understand the mysteries of creation," he mused, his eyes reflecting the ancient tales inscribed on the walls.

Eliazar leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued by his words. As he teetered on the brink of a misstep, Sahashrala's firm grip saved him from a nasty tumble. "Hold your footing, man. This temple is a relic of a bygone era, teeming with traps as subtle as a viper's strike. Look around you," he warned, holding out the torch. The flame, once vibrant and resilient, now flickered with a deathly pallor, waning like a dying sun. "See how the flame withers?"

Eliazar gasped in surprise. "But how... What could possibly...?" He struggled to frame his bewilderment as the torchlight dimmed prematurely, succumbing to an unseen force.

"There's old magic here," Sahashrala whispered, his voice barely a breeze in the surrounding silence. "This place is awash with secret sorcery. Magick, the ancient ones called it. It's as if the very shadows conspire to feast on our light." He raised his hand to reveal a tiny gem glimmering mysteriously in the dim light. "And so, our only beacon in this impenetrable darkness will be the keenness of our senses and this singular grain of Soul Stone."

"Soul Stone?" Eliazar's eyebrows knitted together in intrigue, his face barely visible in the dwindling torchlight.

Sahashrala nodded solemnly. "Indeed. Here in this forgotten world, where magic thrives, we'll meet it with magic of our own. Only then may we have a chance to survive the peril that awaits us." His words hung heavy in the air as the two men pressed on, guided by the soft radiance of the Soul Stone, their hopes pinned on its ethereal glow.

Tossing the lifeless torch aside, Sahashrala forged ahead into the swallowing darkness, leaving behind a trail of quickly vanishing footprints in the age-old dust. Eliazar squinted, his eyes straining to follow the old man's form within the scant halo of light that the Soul Stone emitted. "Your tiny pebble there doesn't really do much, does it?" he grumbled.

Sahashrala groaned at his complaining. "It does enough, and I implore you to keep pace, Eliazar," he retorted, not missing a beat as he navigated the stone labyrinth with catlike agility that belied his age.