The Legend of Zelda: A Hero's Legacy

Chapter 1: Then Give Him Fangs

The winds were relentless, yet for all their ferocity, they were home. Running across a hill with the wind at your heel, coursing through the grass, a rippling wave of green, there was no greater feeling, Link knew. Well, maybe that wasn't true. To ride a Loftwing was the ultimate call to freedom, but Link had to wait another year at least before that could happen.

"Hey!" Karane cawed, cupping her hands to her mouth. Link turned, following her finger, now pointed to the sapphire sky. The boisterous Groose shoved a path through Pipit, Cawlin and Strich, the others grumbling and staring daggers into the back of his neck. If something was happening, he had to be at the centre of it. Link had no eyes for any of that though. His attention was now fully fixed to that great blue sky, eyes glistening.

"A red bird..." Link breathed. "A loftwing flying through the sky."

Jaws dropped, yet Link remained ghostly still. Grooseprickles ran across his arms, and his stomach churned. It wasn't until the great beast did a great manevour that he snapped free from his daze, at least enough to let the blood start flowing again. His head was a frenzy of thoughts, but one shone brighter than the rest

How nice it must be to fly through the great blue sky. Free. "But I... can't get up there."

"What are you muttering about?" Groose grunted, angling on Link, towering over him. His mocking tone usually cut like the bite of a thorn. He flicked his hair, his cherry-red pompadour bouncing up and down with perfect flamboyancy.

Remembering his distaste for the irritating bully, Link bowed his head, muttering.

"N-nothing."

"Weirdo..." Groose snorted, turning to face the rest. "Anyway, I'm going to go see Zelda. She's at the Bazaar, eating with Piper, I think. Who's coming?"

It wasn't really a question. When Groose said something, he expected everyone to do as he commanded. It was part of the reason he dested Link so greatly. The boy with his eyes to the sky never obeyed him. But most of the hatred stemmed from the fact that Link was always playing with Zelda and when they were together, Link always made her laugh, yet when he said something hilarious she'd only stare at him with what looked like a cross between pity and confusion. He couldn't stand it.

As the others ran after Groose, Link moved purposefully towards the edge of the cliff, careful not to fall. He didn't want to be making mistakes like this, especially if he wanted to become a knight. The loftwing soared elegantly through the air, circling the broken windmill.

"Why do I feel like this" Link muttered, happier to be alone. "When I look up at that bird?"

#########

A Time Almost Forgotten

Far beneath Skyloft, the city in the sky where young link now stands, under the thick sea of clouds, people once lived on the world below. Back when it was still called "the land of Hylia". A dark age was brewing, shrouded in fear and betrayal.

KRKOWW went the clinking of the chains that bound the hero to the cold dungeon walls. THRR! KREEAK! The young man of 17 had started to rumble as he heard several footsteps approaching his cell. As they drew closer, he could hear some of the people muttering. Some of it was a little wild, questioning, while the rest was of hesitation. Of fear.

"Link... Link the hero." Link glanced up as the group of men stood in front of his cell. He gave them a gaze as if to say "What do you fools want?" One of the men stepped towards the cell door and unlocked it. He had long, rough robes of moss-green and and was carrying a sword. A rather familiar sword.

What were they doing here? Link thought. The door opened with a clank and the man stepped forward. It was Batreaux. The idiot who locked him up. He approached Link and cleared his throat.

"Lord Dagianis, the man who framed you... has been killed by the demon king." Link gave Batreaux a look of contempt and then smiled as if to say "You should have listened to me". You could see that Batreaux was trying to keep this whole thing orderly. And it would have worked, except Link could see the nervous and frightened looks of the other men. The pressure got to one of them and a young man in white stepped forwards.

"The demon king's army will soon be upon us. Please come out into the light of day."

Link only laughed at the man. A bitter laugh that spoke of what felt like a lifetime of steadily growing spite. One so young as he, to know such cynacism: it spoke of the harshness in men's hearts. Put simply, his time in this dungeon had changed him.

"It was you," he smiled. "My own people, who said you had no need for a powerful hero. And now that it's convenient for you, you want me to fight?" He looked around the room and grinned a savage grin as he saw some of the men gulp and wipe their brows of sweat. "What's more..." Link continued. "My sword is broken. I can't even run anymore."

Batreux stepped forward and Link studied the sword he was carrying. Not just any sword. His sword. He had thought as much when they entered, though to see it up close, naked without him... The fire inside was raging more than ever.

"Our little... misunderstanding has been resolved. Your premonition of danger was correct. We all understand that now." Link smiled again. "You are the only one who can drive off the demon king and protect Hylia!"

Batreaux cautiously approached Link. Link only laughed. A harsh laugh, one that sounded beyond his years. The laughter of one who has lost faith in all that is good. What did he think he was going to do, bite him? Batreaux inserted the small key into the holders which kept Link to the wall but still left the cuffs on his arm, Link noticed. Once they were free Link slumped to the ground. Batreaux went to help him up but the boy brushed his arms away. Link managed to lift himself onto his knees but no more.

"Just give me the blade and let's be on with it," he spat. Batreaux's face flushed with annoyance but he calmed down quick and held the sword towards Link.

"Your weapon. Orville has tended to it these past four years." Link accepted the offer of his blade. "Link, our hero. It is my honour to be able to present this blade to you."

"T-thanks. Well at least you all finally came to your senses. Where are my clothes? I don't want to save the world in these rags."

"Yes, of course" Batreaux gestured at one of the men and as he approached with the clothes, Link smiled. The man knelt on the ground and offered the garbs fit for a hero of his calibre.

"Well I can't very much put them on myself. I can barely move any of my limbs."

"Not to fear, great hero." Batreaux produced a bottle full of a white liquid. "Milk fresh from Romalon's farm. It's not as fresh, a problem with the season and the troubling times that surround us, so it will take some time to fully heal you." Link gulped the potion down immediately.

"I am starting to gain some feeling in my legs. I think I can stand." Slowly, Link began to rise until he was just barely standing. "I don't have any feeling in my arms yet though. I'll need some help." The man who offered him his clothes rose from his spot on the ground and began to remove Link's top. The group of men ogled at the muscles on the boy. He went to remove Link's shorts when from Link's right hand; a deku nut flew on the ground. The power of the nut stunned everyone. When they snapped out of their confusion, Link was there, garbed in his green tunic, cap and flowing brown cape. The crowd gasped at the sight of the hero, sword raised and looking the part of the saviour.

"And here I had thought that I would be able to sleep in peace" Link mused. With a flick of both wrists, the cuffs that remained on his arms snapped and fell to the ground. Some men fell back in utter astonishment.

"G-great h-hero," Batreaux stuttered.

"But if you wish to wake the lion..." Link strode through the men and past the cell door then stopped, his back to the group. Then he turned his head slightly. Facing the men, he smirked, then continued. "Then give him fangs!"

With those parting words, Link hurried from the dungeon and all left behind, gripped in silence, stared at the fading silhouette of the hero, each a look of admiration upon their faces.

The hero had returned.