The Legend of Zelda: The Gods of Old

Chapter 1: The Sleeping Child

  Every once in a while, out of sheer boredom Zelda would wander the ancient grounds of the Temple of Hylia. The history, the architecture. The temple had a sort of sentimental value to Zelda. The battles and the strange encounters that occurred here had shaken her whole world, and the world of the people around her. It was odd to think that such a quiet, serene place could hold demon kings in its courtyard and gateways through time in its foyer. This temple had been the end and the beginning of an era in her life. Zelda wondered if this temple held any more adventures for her. It changed her life once, maybe it could do it again.

Zelda meandered through the dusty rooms of the Temple of Hylia, running her hands over pillar after dusty pillar. In the center of the temple, a platform sat empty. A gate in time once stood there, tall and gleaming, turning endlessly. And just behind it... everything she had sacrificed herself for had fallen apart. She recalled the blinding flash of orange light that had sent both her and Link tumbling away from each other. Then that horrible, self-proclaimed Demon Lord had stepped out from behind a pillar. All hopes of peace and a safe future had been ripped from her in that single moment. He had come to take her soul. To feed her power to Demise.

Zelda blinked away the memory.

Ghirahim was dead now, and Demise with him. She was safe now. Safe. The word didn't seem to sit right. It felt like a lie.

The world outside the temple went on like everything was normal, with the quiet rustling of leaves and the occasional singing birds that sat outside the temple. No sound but Zelda's steps, muted by centuries of dust and ivy existed within the temple.

The same carving repeated itself in a straight line down each wall, far above Zelda's head. The shape roughly represented an hourglass with wings. Curious how a temple technically dedicated to none other than herself still hid so much mystery behind every carving, every wall and every door.

Her fingers gently brushed a crumbling, dusty column as she passed it. It was covered in intricate markings--many now illegible due to its thousands of years of exposure to dust and the ever-creeping vines. But whether or not the writing was worn down, Zelda doubted it could be translated.

Such a shame, Zelda thought, for such a beautiful and sacred place to be neglected to the point of crumbling. Zelda still meandered across the old stone floor, running her eyes distractedly over every crumbling, chalky surface.

She continued walking along the wall until her fingers caught in the small space between two open doors. The birdsong became quiet, hesitant. Her steps ceased, and a final layer of dust flew, soon settling in a fine film along her legs and boots.

Zelda's breathing faltered at the sight of the two doors that lead to the very room she had sent herself to sleep, slightly ajar.

The distant birdsong cut off abruptly.

Hesitant, Zelda peered through the opening. The brilliance of the room was a severe shock to Zelda's eyes and left her seeing lights still moments after she had cringed away. The greatest shock to Zelda was not the blinding light, but rather the color of it, a shining, sparkling gold. It was nearly identical to the magic she possessed. The only difference was the sheer potency of it, the aggressiveness.

Like sunrise, the light grew and grew, seemingly vaporizing every shadow it touched. The light reached Zelda's boots, warming them. Not hot, but warm like the sun. The light edged further out the doors, its speed increasing with every beat of her heart. It shone onto her legs now, hotter this time. When the light touched the bare skin of her hands, Zelda hissed in pain and flinched away. The heat that had swollen and spilled from the room was something akin to the blistering heat of the Eldin Volcano.