A Fan Fiction
Written by Sameh “SteelSlasher”
Nintendo own all rights to the Zelda series.
I guess I can own all rights to the plot, if you have a problem please email me at gamescoper[at]bigstring.com
Also, please email me with any ideas, typos, criticisms etc. to help improve the story.
Just to point out this story may be turned into a homebrew game for Wii, PC, Linux/PS3 Linux and maybe others.
Enjoy!
As the Sun rose and breathed light into the world, the Great King lifted himself from his deep slumber. As he awoke he flinched from the weight of the guilt on his mind. He bgan to slowly drift towards the window and looked down towards his subjects in the town. From a distance these people seem happy, but inside they bore a hidden fear that resided within their soul.
The King looked towards the mountains in the distance, in hope of seeing ant like figures struggle up the mountainside. But he did not. A draught came into the room. It brought despair and anger. He steadily stumble into the Grand Hall and sat down. He stared straight ahead, towards a tapestry which had decorated the hall. The King was always intrigued by a particular section.
Just as the King felt the time was right for breakfast, the door was slammed open. The undesirable noise echoed through the hall as it ripped through the lingering silence as if it was like paper. The King looked up, and indiscernible expression appeared upon his face. A messenger rushed into the hall clutching a letter.
His mind reeled through millions of beautifully described disasters which may have occurred in the psat few days. The messenger placed the interestingly decorated envelope on to the table and stood back as if it were to explode.
The King stared at the envelope. He lifted it towards his face. He bagan to shake. He opened the envelope, a tear formed in his eye. He pulled out the letter and attempted the shield his eyes. The former expression upon his face had now altered into one of awestruck. A joyous feeling rushed through his veins as he regained his youthful strength.
The letter had confirmed the security of the evacuation points, the Kingdom was saved! A question then dawned upon the King, “How?”. Just a few days ago nearly every evacuation point was taken over by hostile forces. The messenger took out another letter which was slightly larger. The King who was already puzzled took the letter with a fear the someone may be trying to trick him.
The King read the letter in an inquisitive manner. He noted that it was from his cousin, who was a knight serving his country. The knight had a story to tell, one that he feared would be forgotten.
The King re-seated himself and began reading. His stomach seemed to have forgiven him for missing breakfast and had decided to wait for lunch instead. The King’s cousin letter began with an account about the conflict which had occurred in the Faron province. He wrote about the invasion of the Kokiri Forest. The invasion was conducted by a group known as the Moblins. Prior to the invasion, the Forest was a peaceful haven for the Kokiri, forest dwellers, who had existed for centuries. The Kokiri would live under the gaze of the Great Tree, which has unfortunately perished in the last decade.
On the dawn of invasion, the Moblin’s surrounded the forest. They were so silent the susurrus would drown out the sound of their footsteps directing the miniature demonic beasts. They lit a bonfire on the edge of the forest, the blazes burst through the air as if they had grown wings and an appetite for the lush fruit of the forest.
Meanwhile, inspiring thoughts began to form in the mind of a young boy. The scent of roasting acorns lingered in the air. The drifting ashes settled on the morning dew. The boy looked up. The distant flames came into focus. His heart beat rose. A sick like feeling occurred in his stomach. He ran. He ran to the village. He had an idea. He gathered all the axes in the village. He carried them to woods and began to cut down the trees. The villagers came out one after another, intrigued as to why the forest was not only being burnt but also cut down. Each person who walked by nearly always understood what they had to do to save themselves.
As the flames began to penetrate deep into the forest the Royal Knights arrived at the scene. A tremendous battle broke out. Arrows would swoop through the air. Swords would clash. And the occasional beckoning groan of death could be heard. Soon, it was over but an even greater struggle remained. Many of the Kokiri were injured and the fire had begun to reach its full potential. The Kokiri’s attempt to cut off the fire’s fuel had been successful. The fire had now began to choke itself as it ran out of trees to engulf. This victory came at an unforgiveable cost, the forest, which had been such a luxurious place had been malformed into a blackened pit of ash and dust.
The young boy, a shadow of a Hero, took little time to bask in admirance. A sense of forboding evil shook his spine as he began to take a journey for those of the Chosen Path.
