Category: Fan Fiction Friday

As they crossed the final peak on the Death Mountain Trail to Goron city, they came to a landing where a statue of the Hero of Time and a tall Goron with a mane like a lion stood. The Hero of Time was posed in his iconic stance, the Master Sword extended out towards the heavens and his shield at his side, always protecting him. The Goron stood right beside the Hero, their backs together, holding a hammer out in…

“May I see the key?” Sagesse asked, stepping around the desk that Kalia was perched behind. Fado nodded and held it out for the Sage of Shadow, who held it into a ray of light shining down from a window in Kalia’s study. Osmond stood nervously behind his Kokiri mentor. Their return to Castletown had been met with increased soldiers at every gate, strict curfews on the city, and a general sense of unease. It hadn’t taken Impa long to…

“Hold them off!” Horns erupted from all over the camp as the first moblin charged ahead towards Osmond. He only had time to step to the side and let the rampaging beast pierce one of the canvases with its spear. Osmond then swung the axe into the monster’s back, burying it to the handle. Another moblin appeared through the doors and Osmond couldn’t get the axe back out, so he drew his sword and shield. He deflected the spears tip…

The sounds of the joyous get together were silenced as Zelda pushed her way through the brambles and back into the murky forest. She stood near the large rock for a moment, pulling the small stickers off her cloak and pants. She had taken her bow and quiver, along with a lantern for lighting her way. She started towards where she believed the horses were tied up, and continued on that path for a few minutes. She stopped to look…

||  Previous Chapter || As it turned out, the tunnel was a squeeze even for me. I wasn’t afraid of tight spaces; I had hidden from Yasei many times in cramped tree trunks or under hedgerows, but the pitch black seemed to go on forever. I crawled on, dragging my satchel. The gritty soil sifted through my fingers until they met something cold. I snatched them back, licking my dry lips. Could this be the Fairy Fountain? Slowly, I flattened one…

Part Three  ||  Part Five “What in Ganon has got those crazy cuccos so riled up?” A pair of thick purple boots thundered past my head. I turned in the fetal position and glared at Guru-Guru. His tatty clothes were covered in a filthy, white gloop — a present from his would-be assassins.  “That would be your fault would it not?” “Shut up,” he groaned. “Everything’s spinning.” I sat up with a chuckle. “So, I gather this is the shop…

Part Two  ||  Part Four A short trot past the guard house brought our cart to a standstill in the town square. The market was already full of stall holders setting up their pitches. A symphony of clanking hammers sounded, frames were built, followed by the whoosh of stripy red and white tents to house their wares. Merchants greeted each other like old friends. As my shoes clicked on the cobble stones, a white terrier came to sniff at me…

Part One  ||  Part Three I’d heard it said that children look to their parents more as gods than human beings. I considered this, as the sting on my knuckles left me breathless. It had been a long time since the last experience of my father’s wrath. I had mastered early on how to avoid punishment; not by running away and hiding, nor by playing tricks for attention. All I had to do was become invisible. If I had no…

|| Next Chapter || “You burst into my father’s office to drag me out for this?” I stared at Yasei, not quite sure whether to consider this as an intrusion or a rescue. “I know! Isn’t it great?” She had that manic smile on her face again. The smile that said, whatever I’d planned for the day had just gone up in smoke. I held it up, with its turquoise dribbled streaks down the sides and yellow suns painted around…

The wanderer stumbled and dropped to his knees as he reached the crest of the final dune. He smiled, looking to the valley below, and thought back on the moment of his childhood that had started his journey to this place. The sandy streets of Medina were busy in that evening light. He, a young boy, disguised out of necessity, hurried through one of the back alleys with a long loaf of bread cradled in his arms. His mother had…