I caught a Hylian loach to-day. And I... worked on a fanfiction which involves... well... to put it very simply... [/Hyrule]. o_O Aheheheh. -_-; It will have no Twilight Princess spoilers! yet. But after the end I'll put a spoiler explaining how this awful sadistic idea came about. If I remember.
I also beat Ganondorf again, for the fun of distracting him via fishing rod.
Anyway, as soon as my computer finds it, I'll paste it into a Notepad doc because to get rid of all the formatting, and then into here.
Here, I found it. Oh, dang, that took out the enters. -sigh-
--
The sun rose red over Hyrule.
The land was in the grip of a great drought. For almost five months, not a single drop of rain had fallen. Few crops had even managed to break the soil this year; there would be no harvest to speak of. And now, as summer drew to its high point with no sign of any cooling rain, people suffered from the searing heat of the red sun.
The sun had been an eerie red ever since the beginning of the drought.
In the small village of Kolha, a young man of about seventeen was on his way to sword training. He had blond hair and eyes the color of the deep sea. On the back of his left hand, there was a strange birthmark, three dark triangles that made a larger triangle.
“Good morning, Jolan,” he said as he saw his trainer.
Jolan smiled back. “Good morning, Link,” he said. “’Fraid I’m going to have to cut practice a little short today, if that’s all right. The mayor was wondering if you could go down and fetch some more water from the spring. The village is running low again.”
“Sure.”
“Sorry. I know it’s hardly fun to spend your day going back and forth from the spring with buckets that are full of water half the time.”
“It’s all right,” Link answered, waving away his trainer’s apology. “Everyone’s doing their part to help the village through the drought. Hauling water is how I help out.”
Jolan gave a laugh. “All right, if you say so. Then for today, I just want to make sure you remember everything I’ve taught you, and then I’ll send you on your way.”
So Link picked up a wooden practice sword, demonstrated the basic sword techniques Jolan had taught him, and sparred for a bit. Finally Jolan nodded in approval. “Nice work,” he said. “You know everything I can teach you. Now, before you—”
“Wait,” Link interrupted. “There’s something I want to show you. Stand back.”
Jolan obligingly took a few steps backwards.
“I’ve been working on this attack for a few months now,” Link told him. “I must have read about it at some point or something, because when I thought about it, it seemed like the idea had always been in my head. But anyway…”
He held out his sword behind him, took a deep breath, and then spun in a quick, controlled circle.
The grass at his feet was suddenly shorter.
“Wow,” Jolan said.
“I call it the spin attack,” Link explained. “The force of the spin gives more strength to the attack, and it also covers all fronts.” He grinned. “It is also, as you see, very nice for cutting grass.”
“So I see,” Jolan agreed. “It’s a great attack, Link. If I’d had any doubts before, you would have just assuaged them.”
“Doubts? About what?”
“About giving you this.” Jolan reached into his bag and brought out a sword and scabbard. “This is for you, Link. Use it well.”
Link took the sword and drew it. “Thank you, Jolan,” he said, touched.“You’re very welcome,” Jolan replied. “And here’s my advice: take it with you when you go to get the water. The drought may be bleeding us dry, but it doesn’t seem to bother monsters and strange creatures at all. They’re more plentiful than ever, and the path to the spring could get dangerous.”
Link nodded, thanked Jolan once again, and then set off for the spring with a pole over his shoulders and two buckets hanging off of it.
Despite Jolan's grave warning, Link found himself walking with an unusual spring in his step. His pride that Jolan had given him the sword completely overpowered any worry he might have felt over the man's advice.
But that changed very quickly when a screech ripped through the air.
Suddenly Link was surrounded by monsters. Misshapen humanoids swarmed towards him from the bushes, swinging crude clubs. He heard wingbeats behind him and turned to see a gigantic vulture swooping down on him. The vulture opened its beak and began to screech again--but Link dropped the buckets, whipped out his new sword, and sliced the creature's neck. It fell to the ground, and Link turned back to the humanoids.
"Damn!" he swore under his breath, his heart pounding. There were so many of them--too many. It quickly became clear that beating them individually wasn't going to get him anywhere. He'd have to use the yet un-tested spin attack.
He held his blade out, focused, let the monsters draw closer. And then he released the attack.
The monsters fell dead at his feet.
Link sheathed the sword and waited for his heart-rate to slow back to normal. He gave a slow sigh of relief.
Then, just as he shouldered the buckets again, he heard hoofbeats. A white horse came into view, ridden by a person in a long gray cloak and a masquerade mask with a cloth over his or her hair, so that only his or her mouth was visible. The horse stopped in front of Link.
"Is your name Link?" the rider asked. It was a female voice.
"Yeah," Link answered, bewildered.
The mouth curved slightly in a smile. "I've been searching for you," she said. "I need to speak with you. Hyrule is in grave danger."
~
So, the inspiration for this depressing little idea. It's got spoiler-ish-ness for the appearance of the eighth dungeon:
I was thinking about Twilight at night a while ago, thinking about how strange it is that if you look out from the Palace you see these floating buildings (which obviously they have to warp to). The bottoms kind of... taper off. Kind as if they used to be part of something else.
I made a decision about what that world was: it was the goddesses' world once. But it ended, and they, once princesses in that world, go and create a new world--Hyrule--and become its goddesses.
So yeah, that's what inspired it. Not much of a story, is it?
No comments:
Post a Comment