Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by False Prophet
Raw
OP
Avatar of False Prophet

False Prophet Inconspicuous Werewolf

Member Seen 22 days ago



Link has just woken up after a century's rest in the shrine of resurrection. As expected, he navigated the Great Plateau and was given the task to find Impa. However, a Yiga Clan threat is on the rise, and Kakariko Village is none the wiser. This will be updated whenever I see fit since I'm a busy guy. Just for reference, this fic will never feature 18+ content. Don't expect it. If you want more consistent updates, check the google doc. It isn't as pretty, but it is revised more often. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1KVbAQYEtkjfqyEtyCPJkutuRDXyYiLgy5MFFOj1HPY0/edit?usp=sharing




Prologue


The grass was set ablaze caused by the sparks of dying machinery. A light sprinkle of rain kept the would-be inferno at bay, and the drops pitter-pattered gently against the ground. It was as if Hylia herself was sobbing over the destruction of her kingdom. Where was their goddess now, though? Hyrule’s chosen hero knelt onto the muddy ground, using his sword for support. The one and only Sword that Seals the Darkness had become nothing more than a makeshift crutch for the hero. Both the blade and its wielder have seen better days.

Link grunted as he fought to keep steady. His clothes were singed and stained with a mixture of mud and blood. It was his blood. His body was burned from the Guardian attacks. Each movement he made caused his wounds to sting intensely. He wanted to rest, but the battle was far from over… Out of the corner of his blue eyes, the knight spotted another one of those damned machines crawling over like an oversized bug. It clawed over its fallen brethren, which were reduced by Link to a tangle of gears and mechanical limbs. It stared down at him with its single, luminous eye.

He had to get up. He had to keep standing. Seething, Link pushed himself back to his feet, stumbling- and ignoring the Princess’s pleas to retreat and save himself. He couldn’t do that. This was what he had trained for his entire life! It was his duty as her appointed knight to protect her. After all, he believed she was Hyrule’s last hope. Despite the pain shooting through his body, he knew his clash with death would end tonight. This was it. He was going to die for Hyrule.

Brushing a few locks of his now grimy, golden hair out of his eyes. Link held his ground. He panted and lifted up the legendary blade. The demonic machine ominously beeped as it focused its attack on him. Good. He could hold it off just long enough while the princess escaped. He listened to the beeps and whirrs of the enemy quicken. Within another second, it would release a harsh beam of energy and kill him. He gritted his teeth, preparing for the end.

But...it seemed the princess had other plans. She shoved her knight back, protesting his sacrifice. Link admired her courage, but he couldn’t focus on her sentiment for long. A blinding, golden light shot from her hand. He knew this was the power of the goddess. Even at death’s door, he was glad to see his companion finally accomplish her goal. She unlocked the power of the Golden Goddess. The light bathed her and the rest of the field, turning all a shimmering shade of gold. The battle was over, and Link fell back to his knees.

All of the Guardians fell limp and collapsed onto the ground, but so did he. He drew in a few shaky breaths. Link's body had gone numb from pain, but his head still spun. The knight desperately wanted to close his eyes and rest, but if he did, he wouldn’t open them ever again. The princess, though spattered with mud, looked as beautiful as ever. She lifted him, saying something he couldn’t quite understand. He weakly lifted his head and wheezed. His eyes stopped focusing, so her figure was a blur to him. Still, he tried to meet her gaze. It was a sparkling green. You can do this, he so desperately wanted to shout to her. You’re going to save Hyrule!

Link gave her, for a split second, a reassuring smile. However, the coughs that wracked his body were a grim reminder that it was his time. The princess held onto her chosen knight knowing, despite her reassuring words, he was not going to be okay. She saw him blink, draw in a small breath, and then close his eyes. Not a moment later, his muscles relaxed and he went limp. He was gone. She thought he felt heavier now.
1x Like Like 1x Thank Thank
Hidden 3 yrs ago Post by False Prophet
Raw
OP
Avatar of False Prophet

False Prophet Inconspicuous Werewolf

Member Seen 22 days ago

Chapter 1: Growing Pains



This was the first sign of civilization Link had seen ever since he woke up. It was...breathtaking. The gloom of the shadow between the Dueling Peaks mountain’s pass consumed him no longer, and he stepped into the light. It was a pale day, with a sheet of silver clouds blotting out the sun. Despite this, white light filtered through. Between two trees, Link spotted it.

A single, large tent-like structure towered in front of him. A horse’s head made of wood and brightly colored cloth was settled in the center of the tent’s roof. It was quite a bizarre sight for Link, but after traveling alone for days, it was a welcomed one. However, it wasn’t the tent or the giant horse head that surprised him the most, it was the four-legged creatures grazing nearby. He hastily decided he wanted to get one, even though he was only 70% sure they were horses.

Link quickly clambered down from the rocky ledge he was using to scout the field. It jutted out from beside the river. Its running black waters haunted him. He recalled when he was recently ambushed by a pair of ugly reptilian creatures that lived in the water, so he stayed far from the bank. Link’s lip curled up in disgust as his thoughts dwelled on the encounter. Almost instinctively, he reached for his sword. It was a lightweight blade that he stole from a Bokoblin encampment further down the river. He wasn’t used to always grabbing a weapon when he felt stressed…

Link sheathed the sword, forgetting about his worries as he approached the tent. People- actual people, were filtering in and out, talking with each other and caring for their animals. It was a pristine moment, like the chaos that plagued the countryside was currently subdued. This was a safe haven, and Link was grateful for it- did he smell food? Yes. He followed his nose like a dog searching for scraps. Somebody was standing by a cooking pot, carefully mixing in ingredients. His mouth began to water.

Link had survived for the past weeks by foraging and hunting for food like a neanderthal. He usually scoured the forests for fruits or mushrooms, unsure if any would kill him or not. He took his chances several times but was miraculously still alive. Though, sometimes he woke up at night with massive headaches and the nagging urge to vomit. Sometimes he did vomit- He noted that it seemed to become more frequent.

Regardless, some poor soul was preparing EDIBLE food, and Link was going to figure out how to procure some of that delectable cuisine. He sauntered up to the cooking pot, which was nestled between a few crates. Although it was still mid-afternoon, the heat of the flame was comforting. He sat down, feeling safe, but still incredibly hungry.

Link was not the only traveler resting by the fire. Aside from the cook, who was a Hylian woman, two children sat closeby counting a sack of apples. The other person was...well, he wasn’t sure. Link couldn’t see their face- or any part of their body underneath the cloak. It made him feel uneasy. No longer focused on the food, Link kept an eye on the veiled stranger. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he watched them stand up and slip into the tent. How odd.

The woman who was cooking picked up a ladle and started stirring. She looked over at Link and gave him a nod of acknowledgment. “I see you’ve met the stable’s kook. Don’t let ‘em scare ya off.”

Link’s eyes darted up towards the woman. Currently, the boy was fiddling with the whetstone he usually had hanging on his belt. He thought she spoke to him in an almost joking manner.

“Hm?” He raised a golden brow. He also realized this would be his first conversation with a physical person. He didn’t count mysterious ghosts or voices from inside his head.

“Big cloak, hidden face. They’re harmless, don’t worry,” the woman replied

Link wasn’t sure he believed her. “Who are they?” he inquired.

“Not a clue, showed up less than a week ago. Not a soul’s seen them before.” With a shrug, the woman went back to focusing on the cooking pot.

“Hmm…” Link thought on this. He’d been keeping an eye on the tent. It was silent now since the twins had stopped counting. He suspected they were eavesdropping. Talk between travelers was probably more interesting than keeping track of apples, so he didn’t mind.

Two Hylian men soon approached. They bore a striking resemblance to each other- so much so, Link had to make a double-take. The children sitting nearby stood up excitedly and hurried over to one of the men.

“Dad,” one of them started, “we finished counting the apples for the horses!”

The man, who Link now understood to be their father, pat both children on the head. “Oh, did you? How many?”

“50!” The other exclaimed.

“No, it was 53!” The first one corrected. He was now clinging to his father’s leg.

“Well, yeah, but we always leave three out for the guests-”

“I was still right, though.”

The father lifted up both of his boys and set them by the sack of apples. “Children, children, why don’t you take the bag inside? I have a feeling it might rain tonight…”

The young pair of twins did what they were told, grabbing the bag together. Link thought it looked heavy, but the boys managed while working together. Despite their joint effort, they still argued over who was technically right.

“Dinner will be done soon, so come right back!” Their father called as soon as the boys vanished inside the tent. He set himself across from Link and next to the woman.

The sun was starting to sink, and it only slipped further down the horizon as the stable-goers gathered around the fire. Link had been informed that the man who ran the stable was named Tasseren. Tasseren carried most of the conversation. Link was listening, but he was never much for giving input. He usually just nodded along, pretending to understand what was being said.

One thing he did understand was that the stable doubled as an inn, and in order to to get any of the food being served, he’d have to pay for a night. A warm bed and a hot meal sounded like a refreshing change of pace compared to sitting by a fire and fending off wolves. He agreed to stay. Luck would have it that Link was carrying around a few Rupees. He had no idea what they were, but often found them in chests or being hoarded by Bokoblins. He had no issue parting with them since they were starting to clog up his bag. Good riddance.

Link was handed a bowl of food. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it smelled and tasted great. Unlike his cooking, he actually enjoyed eating it. This was much better than the dubious delicacies he whipped up from foraging. He cringed just thinking about it. The stable-goers sitting beside the flames exchanged small talk and cracked jokes while eating. Link didn’t understand half of it and decided not to join in. He was perfectly content with eating alone, or at least convinced himself he was.

Link’s ears twitched and his focus was drawn to his right, searching for a clattering noise close to the stable entrance. He first glanced at the horses, but they were resting. He had no idea horses (mostly) slept while standing up. He almost forgot what he was looking for while watching the animals doze, but a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eyes reminded him.

The “stable kook” was standing by the entrance. Now that it was dark, the space under the hood looked like a faceless void. His shoulders tensed and he narrowed his eyes to try and get a better look. The boy really wasn’t sure, but he was almost certain the cloaked stranger had their eyes on him. However, as soon as this thought crossed Link’s mind, they whipped around and slithered back inside, but not before setting an untouched bowl of food onto a nearby crate. Link felt his hand reflexively go to his sword’s hilt. The chatter by the fire was quickly silenced as the onlookers now had their eyes on Link, who had the blade unsheathed halfway.

It didn’t take long for Link to realize he’d drawn quite a large amount of attention on himself by grabbing his weapon. It also didn’t take a genius to realize drawing a sword in a place of peace would be...inappropriate. One of the stable-goers, a Hylian with black hair and a mustache, had stood up and pulled out a shield strapped to his back. Link distinctly heard him tell him to “put the damn thing down”. Tesseren’s brother was also giving him a wicked side-eye.

Successfully intimidated, Link’s hand let go of the hilt. He felt his face heat up with shame as he uttered a barely audible apology. Whispers drifted amongst the stable-goers as he stood up to leave. He could tell when he wasn’t welcome. Perhaps it was time to grab some shut-eye before his nerves got the better of him. Link mentally kicked himself over the stunt while walking inside.

He hadn’t gone inside before, but the sight cheered him up a bit. The light was warm and cozy, but dim enough for sleep. There were four-post beds lined up by the tent walls. They were draped in a cloth to block out some light and provide a bit of privacy. Two young Hylian men were sitting at the only table, having a hushed discussion and pointing at several maps. Link was too tired to want to interfere. He plopped himself onto the nearest unoccupied bed and sighed. To his dismay, Stable Kook was settled on the other bed to his immediate left.

Tired and a little irritated, Link grabbed the cloth bed-drapes (or whatever they were called, he wasn’t sure) and closed them. He was almost certain they were wool from the somewhat itchy texture. He rubbed his hands together to rid himself of the feeling. Now covered in darkness, Link collapsed on the mattress, realizing how absolutely exhausted he was. He grunted softly as he grabbed each foot and pulled off his shoes. They were a pair of short leather boots. He tossed them underneath the bed, along with his pack. However, the sword stayed with him.

Link exhaled loudly after he got situated. He tried to close his eyes, but a dull pain from his joints kept him awake. He chalked it up to climbing so much earlier that day, but deep down a part of him knew he was wrong. He rolled over to his side, grabbing the knit blanket and hugging the pillow. It was too puffy for Link to rest his head on comfortably. Perhaps if he was a bit taller, but there was nothing he could do about that other than be mildly annoyed.

It wasn’t long before his enclosed bed felt stuffy. Link threw off the woven blanket and pulled open a single curtain. He made sure it was the one on his right. He didn’t want Mister Cloaked McCreeper staring into his soul while he tried to sleep. Gross. He hugged the pillow tighter, imagining it to be someone who cared about him, and decided he wouldn’t open his eyes for any reason. He spent 20 rupees on this goddamn bed, so he was going to have a nice fulfilling rest- or else he’d kill something in the morning.
Hidden 3 yrs ago 3 yrs ago Post by False Prophet
Raw
OP
Avatar of False Prophet

False Prophet Inconspicuous Werewolf

Member Seen 22 days ago

Chapter 2: Night Terrors

After much twisting and turning in the blankets, Link managed to doze off. Dozing was an understatement, though. His mouth hung agape and a surprisingly loud snore escaped him with each inhale. An arm hung limply from the side of his bed, almost grazing the floor. His other arm was gripping the soldier’s broadsword to his chest. Luckily, the blade was still sheathed. This was probably the best sleep Link had since he was resurrected- not counting his time in the shrine, of course. Nothing could top a hundred years of intense napping.

To the left of the sleeping knight, blue eyes pierced the dark. A hand obscured by shadow slipped under the curtain and reached for the Sheikah Slate strapped to Link’s belt, which was glowing faintly. The slate was easily removed, almost too easily. The thief indeed was the one skulking with a hood that covered their face. However, in the dark, they- or, he had removed it. Though his face wouldn’t be discernable to anybody who couldn’t see in the dark, it was indeed masculine. Stone-faced, the stranger slipped the slate into his cloak and began to make his escape.

He moved with delicate precision. Each footfall was planned and silent, but most importantly: quick. It was unnatural how one could move such finesse without causing a disturbance. It was a technique the thief had learned several years ago…a skill that combined the art of stealth and a natural gift unique to his people, but it was a skill that was largely forgotten. Not even the loose planks of the wooden floor could stop him.

Link stirred after he felt something brush against the hand that stuck out from the bedframe. Reflexively, he grabbed it. With the curtain in his face, the Hylian wasn’t sure what he was holding, but it felt like an extremely light-weight cloth. He rubbed it between his fingers and palm. Still not fully awake, he opened the privacy-curtain rather noisily and popped his head out to get a gander at what it was. His eyes weren’t adjusted to the gloom and all he saw were splotches of darkness, but his grip on the fabric tightened.

Meanwhile, the thief noticed a slight tug on his cloak. It was subtle, but he felt the resistance against his neck. Then, he stiffened as he heard the scraping of metal. The slumbering hero was finally awake. He had never felt so frustrated, not in a long time. The thief swallowed his urge to scream and throttle the Hylian. Instead, he untied the cloak and let it fall to the floor. Though doing this would compromise his position, he knew Link’s eyes would be drawn to the motion instead of him.

The fabric fluttered to the ground. As predicted, Link’s focus snapped to the falling cloak. He stood up, one hand still gripping the cloth. He yanked it to him, eyes narrowing to examine what he’d just grabbed. Ah, this was indeed a cloak, Link was sure of it. He was also sure that cloaks did not mysteriously fall to the ground for no particular reason in the dead of night. How perplexing… His free hand went for the broadsword on his bed.

Sword in hand, Link dropped the cloak and began to tiptoe passed the bed frame. His stealthiness was nothing compared to the thief’s. The floorboards creaked, and he breathed ever so slightly out of his mouth. Though he could detect motion with his eyes, the inky blackness of the night kept him from making out his immediate surroundings. Ugh- He let out a grunt as he walked face first into a wooden post. His nose scrunched up against the wood, making him draw away quickly. His hands instinctively went to cover his schnozz, which now stung.

The thief, who was behind the post, was ready and poised to strike. However, a hollow thunk from the other side made him tense. He craned his neck to check the other side, and quizzically observed the Hylian hero. He noticed Link’s eyes were jammed shut. Ah, the idiot knocked himself into the post. Seizing the opportunity, and not bothering to stay stealthy, he bolted towards the exit on his left. Link’s ears twitched at the sound of footsteps, but his eyes were watering so much he couldn’t open them. Damn! The rustling of heavy fabric told him that the bastard had disappeared outside.

It was while pulling on his shoes did Link notice the sudden disappearance of the Sheikah slate. He made a funny wheezing noise and looked through the bedsheets to see if it fell off his belt. Of course, he knew the stable kook had stolen it, but he wanted to make sure. No longer feeling drowsy from waking up in the middle of the night, Link bolted towards the stable’s exit. He raised his hands, throwing the heavy canvas out of his way.

It was still dark outside, but his eyes were already adjusted to the gloom. What surprised him the most was the cold prickle of raindrops landing on his skin. The Hylian cursed under his breath, knowing an impending storm put him on a timer for tracking the freak that stole his garbage. Even worse, he felt cold already. Shivering slightly, Link scanned the area, not seeing a trace of the thief. All he could see amidst the night were tall, gnarled trees in the distance and the bases of the mountains. It was peaceful- and quiet. It seemed the oncoming rain shut up most creatures aside from a few frogs.

The scene was broken by the not-so-distant, startled cries of horses. The unfamiliar sound scared Link and he grabbed his sword. He began to stalk his way closer to the disturbance, feeling quite startled himself. The pounding of hooves against dirt alerted him to a terrifyingly perplexing sight. Horses (he thought they were horses) were streaming in all directions, letting out sharp cries and rearing their large heads. Link couldn't explain why, but he knew they were scared and not aggressive. He strained his eyes and ears to try and figure out what disturbed them.

Between crumbling stone brick and tall grass that could reach up to Link’s chest, he saw what he assumed to be the thieving bastard. His appearance had changed. Since the cloak was gone, the Hylian could see a mop of long, white hair tied into a bun. As the stranger leapt over a section of the wall, Link caught sight of his face. Unfortunately, a sort of mask obscured his nose and mouth. All that was visible was a piercing blue eye that reminded Link too much of his own. With his enemy now in sight, the hero charged forward with his blade drawn. While he was bringing down his sword with a mighty swing, the Mystery Man turned into a puff of smoke. The smog was thick enough to make Link cough and shut his eyes. He rubbed his face furiously and sputtered.

The smoke faded and Link was able to come back to his senses rather quickly, but not quick enough. He retrieved his weapon from the wet earth and peeked his head over the weathered wall to see...nothing! He was gone. Dumbfounded, he straightened up and scanned the surroundings. He couldn't see very far or hear much because of the rain, which had progressed from a sprinkle to a shower. Damn! He shuddered violently, reminded of just how frigid it was outside. His now waterlogged clothing sucked the warmth out of him, and the stormy weather made him feel stiff. It was time to admit defeat. If he tried to stick it out here in the rain, he'd probably get a cold. The rational part of his brain told him that it was too dangerous to wander about an open field at night during a storm, especially since he saw a crack of lightning light the horizon. Too tired to argue with himself, he retired back to the inside of the tent.

Link had his head buried in a shirt from his pack. He was sitting at the edge of his bed, drying his golden mop with it. He didn’t have a towel, so a dry shirt would have to do. He’d hang it and the rest of his other waterlogged clothes to dry in the morning. As the air chilled his still damp skin, he only felt himself stiffen more. Link, deciding he’d had enough, sank into bed and wrapped himself back into a cocoon of itchy blankets. He felt too sore to be able to fall back asleep, but he needed to warm up before the dull aches grew worse.

At one point, the hylian did drift off, but it wasn’t for long. He was awoken by Tasseren drawing back the canvas openings to the tent. He was sure he was dreaming at one point, but his brain felt so sluggish that he couldn’t recall a single bit of it. Link slid out of bed, rubbing his eyes from the faint sunlight filtering in. He didn’t feel refreshed at all. Regardless, he needed to get going...or at least prepare to. His clothes still needed to dry. He couldn’t go walking around the wilderness in his pajamas! Link picked up the pile of moist clothing and trudged outside, only giving Tasseran a curt nod of acknowledgement when greeted.

Link chewed on a crisp apple as he hung his clothing to dry on some twine. The sunlight was still weak and the air was humid from the rain, but it would hopefully warm up later. As he was trying to eat, he couldn’t help but replay the disaster that was last night in his head. His brow was scrunched and he had his nose wrinkled. If only he was more vigilant! He had his most prized possession swiped out from under him by some...some guy! Directly across from him was a shrine, its alluring orange glow reflecting from a shallow pond it was settled in. The sight of it made him feel all the more disappointed in himself. Without his slate, he couldn’t open it. Without that stupid slate, he had no answers!

Link, frustrated, let out a growl and threw the half-eaten apple as far as he could. It soared through the air and landed somewhere behind a fence. Good riddance, he wasn’t hungry anyway… The hylian was then reminded that he was not alone. He wasn’t very used to having other people around yet, and grew anxious when the sound of footsteps from behind reached his ears. Again, he reached for his sword hilt, but remembered he had left it inside. Probably for the better. He didn’t want a repeat of what happened over dinner again. He lowered his hand and turned to see Tasseren- no, wait… Upon closer inspection, he was sure it was his twin. He had never caught his name.

“Nice shot,” the twin remarked under a twitching mustache. Link, unsure of what to say, said nothing in response. The other man went to gather a pitchfork, presumably to give the horses hay. He spoke again as he got to work. “What’s eating at you?”

“I’m lost,” was all Link mumbled. He didn’t want to get into it.

The man scratched his chin and let out a ‘hm’ before piping up again. “Well, I know this area like the back of my hand. Where’re you heading?”

“Kakariko Village.” The tone of Link’s answers were growing ever more duller.

“Follow the north trail to the bridge and keep going. Straight shot, can’t miss it. It’s less than a day’s travel on horseback,” the man advised.

Link so desperately wanted to be polite, but he was tired and wasn’t entirely sure how to be, anyway. He fell silent again. Damn, he probably needed a horse. The ones in the stalls already had loving owners, but he recalled hearing the wild ones were fair game- if you could catch one.

“You know, you’re a weird kid,” the twin commented.

“Thanks,” Link said flatly.

The twin, whose name was Rensa, soon left after pitching the hay to the animals. Link didn’t bother to interact with him more, so he was just fine with the man’s absence. At one point, he had gathered his things from inside and brought them by the cooking pot. For the past few minutes, Link had been ceaselessly rifling through his bag and organizing what he did and didn’t need. He also made a mental list of what he may need to gather before embarking off again. It kept his mind busy. The sun had climbed a decent amount into the sky when the hero finished his self-assigned chore. Currently, he was drawing his thumbnail up and down the teeth of a comb he had recently acquired.

The comb wasn’t anything special. Like most of his things, he’d found it while raiding a monster encampment. He suspected the bokoblins kept it because it was shiny- they certainly didn’t need it to comb their hair since they were pretty much bald. Poor, ugly bastards. Link dragged the comb through his hair, and it almost immediately got caught on knots and tangles. Perhaps falling asleep with a head of wet hair wasn’t the greatest idea. He didn’t care, though. He tugged the comb free and went back to it. Eventually, with his hair now tamed, Link pulled it back into a low ponytail. It kept the back of his neck from overheating on hot days like today. He was sure the temperature would only rise more by noon. There was barely a cloud in the heavens now. Like his spirits, it seemed they all dissipated.
1x Like Like
↑ Top
© 2007-2024
BBCode Cheatsheet