God Games: A Legend of Zelda

Loose Ends

The blood moon cast a terrible pallor across the land, stifling, almost choking. It seemed possible, under its heavy velvet curtain, to feel a layer of its sticky namesake caked upon one's skin.

Astor had always relished in it. His dedication to the Demon King was absolute, his dedication unwavering, his mind given to the darkness. It had been ten thousand years ago as it was now, under this crimson sky.

Tonight, though, a beautiful blood moon was stained with anguish.

Astor stumbled out of an ancient and a forgotten crypt, squinting in the vibrance of the night, and looked around in desperation- and then looked up.

In the distance, he could see a massive dragon, wreathed in the black malice of his master.

"No," Astor breathed, stumbling forward. "No, this isn't possible- Ganondorf-"

As if on cue, the Demon Dragon exploded, lighting the entire sky with a pure white.

Astor gasped and dropped to his knees, tears running down his sunken face.

He'd known the moment he woke. Astor was plan B; he would only awaken if Ganondorf were slain and his dark power faltered. He would rather have remained in stasis for all time than wake up to this.

He wobbled as he got back on his feet, wandering aimlessly, though with determination. He needed shelter. He needed to regain his strength.

Astor wandered across open plains for hours, snatching fruit from the trees as he went, until he found a hovel- old, very old, on the brink of collapse. He wrinkled his nose at it. The foremost sorcerer, servant of Demon King Ganondorf, was above such squalor.

He growled under his breath and went in, looking around. He snapped his fingers, and shadows swept away the dust and cobwebs. Astor slumped onto the ancient, thin mattress. This would have to do for now. He could wait. He was practiced with waiting.

Hylia's child and champion would fall yet.