Fan Fiction Friday: The Era Without A Hero – Part 4

“Aldwin!”

“Just promise me that you’ll make them look good.”

Osmond stood in the doorway to his friend and mentor’s office, staring at a man in the mirror that he hardly recognized. A weathered green tunic that fit him perfectly, a sturdy shield that easily fit to his arm, and a perfectly weighted sword. These were the ‘surprises’ that Aldwin had alluded to at the feast the night prior.

“The tunic is a hand-me-down, if you’re ever an actual knight, they’ll issue you one very similar. The shield I had custom made by a legendary blacksmith near Kakariko City. He was an old friend of mine that owed me a favor. And the sword…” He trailed off with a wispy grin growing across his face, “well that sword is an artifact that I came upon a few years back during an expedition out near Lake Hylia. There were several like it, but this one for some reason bore no rust like the others. Some of the documents found with it suggested some sort of spell had been cast on it to keep it from wearing out. Imagine that.”

Osmond’s eyes shined brightly as the gazed at his reflection in the mirror. He felt an overwhelming eagerness that nearly made him sick.

“Come on now, can’t stare at it all day,” Aldwin clicked his cane on the floor and began making his way to the door.

“Aldwin,” Osmond turned slowly, his eyes puffed up as he fought to hold back his tears. “Thank you.”

A soft smile and nod of his head was all the acknowledgement Aldwin could manage. Osmond, as much of a pupil as he was, seemed more like a son at times. Osmond’s parents had died many years ago and Aldwin had seen the fire in the boy’s eyes that told him everything he’d needed to know. It was a fire similar to the one that had once illuminated his own son’s eyes. The part of his past that not even Osmond knew about.

As they hurried down the street towards the Coliseum, Osmond told Aldwin all about his encounter with the great Sir Ralphine.

“Interesting advice… I suppose he’s right,” Aldwin said, one hand on his chin.

“Of course, he’s right!”

“Be prepared to abandon that though. If he’s handing out advice like that, I wonder if it’s because he sees you as an easy target.”

Osmond blew the thought off with a burst of air from his lips.

“Just be weary of your competition is all.”

“Yeah, like that strange man in the cloak.”

“Strange man in a cloak?”

“After I met Sir Ralphine, there was a guy wearing a solid black cloak that was just outside the square. He had a sword that had a golden hilt, so I asked him if he was here for the tournament, then pointed him in the direction of the Coliseum.”

“I see.”

“What? Should I have not?”

“No, no, you did right. Still, that’s just what I mean. You’re far too trusting. Just be vigilant is all I’m advising.”

“Always the teacher,” Osmond laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Precisely.”

A few minutes later, they turned down a main street that cut from the older district of Castletown, to one of the newer sections. At the far end of the street, stood the high stone pillars and arches of Hyrule Coliseum.

There were five floors built up from the ground, with two more sunk into the earth. Along the top were crenels on which alternating Hylian Royal Crests and Triforces were etched. High archways stretched across the pillars that extended from the ground all the way up. Between the monolith pillars, were statues that stood below the stands for passersby to enjoy. Each statue depicted great moments in Hyrule’s history, but none stood larger and more iconic than that of the Hero of Time.

Sitting about ten yards away from the spectator’s entrance, the statue depicted the Dark Lord Ganondorf laying under one of the Hero’s feet. With the legendary Master Sword held high above him, the image was one that inspired every young boy that came to see it. Families would flock to the statue in times of struggle, others would come to celebrate their successes at its base while striking the Hero’s pose themselves. Some of the older generations would simply lay flowers at the statue’s base as a sort of prayer offering.

Osmond had been part of two of those ceremonies. When he’d first come to Castletown after his parent’s deaths, he had tried running away once. Without knowing where he was going, he managed to find his way to the statue and spent the entire night just staring up at it. It had brought him peace, strength, and was likely the final straw in pushing him to want to be a swordsman. Every year, on the anniversary of their death, he brought a single white lily and laid it at the statue’s feet.

The final ceremony, the one of celebration, he had specifically reserved for himself when he could be considered a true swordsman.

“I’m gonna do it, Aldwin.”

Aldwin paused and looked back as Osmond had stopped. He was staring up at the statue, eyes full of hope and pride.

“Yes, I’m sure you will.”

They made their way into the registration tent and were checked in by a woman with an unexpectedly sour attitude. Beyond the desk where she was perched, a narrow and covered passageway led around to a sort of staging area.

Coaches and their swordsmen were talking strategy or making final preparations. There were about thirty competitors, with only fifteen coaches. Older and more experienced competitors, like Sir Ralphine, stopped using coaches usually. It cost more rupees to register alone, but the payout was far more rewarding.

Osmond thought about going and thanking Sir Ralphine for the advice from the night before, but Aldwin’s suggestion about it being a trick made him second guess it. Instead, he followed Aldwin to a corner of the tent and they sat across from each other on benches.

“Are you ready?”

Osmond gave a firm nod.

“I’m very proud that you’ve made it this far.”

“I haven’t done anything yet though,” Osmond wrinkled his face.

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t have entered you if you’d done nothing. You took your first step into this arena when you first asked me to train you. When you went against your uncle’s wishes and picked up your first blade. When your parents perished, and you fought off those wolves.”

Osmond shrunk.

“You are embracing your destiny. I’m honored to have been a part of it.”

“Thank you, Aldwin,” Osmond muttered with his head hung low.

Aldwin stood up and placed a hand on Osmond’s armored shoulder. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. They stayed that way for a moment. Aldwin closed his eyes and said a silent prayer, and Osmond did the same.

There was no actual bloodshed in the tournament, at least not intentional. However, the event was exhilarating for the spectators nonetheless, and the competitors usually made for good entertainers. There was one competitor from Kakariko City that had been a trained actor but took up sword fighting as a career after a critic had accused him of not knowing how to wield a blade believably. The actor challenged the critic to a duel and won, easily. The critic then spent months trying to blame it on bad lighting, or a cursed eye, or any number of things before conceding that he’d made a mistake.

“Tarnel of Kakariko!” A young page yelled from the entrance to the tent.

As a bearded and hefty man waddled over to the boy, Osmond took a hard look around at his competition. Sir Ralphine was polishing his sword’s hilt near the entrance. A few more green swordsmen were huddled with their coach, getting last minute pointers. A few knights with more than the tournament on their mind focused on their appearances, hoping to win over the crowd more than the obstacles. Some others were taking stock of themselves, preparing and taking the impending event more seriously.

Osmond felt a little out of place as he caught his appearance in a mirror. Almost all the men had beards, or at least stubble. They were brawny, tall, and even the vain ones represented a part of life that Osmond had not yet experienced.

“Nervous?”

Osmond nearly jumped when Sir Ralphine’s voice broke his concentration.

“Y-y–a little sir,” he hopped to his feet and straightened himself.

“Forgive me, I should have approached you from where you could see me,” Sir Ralphine bowed.

“The boy needs to be aware of his surroundings, apologize yourself Osmond,” Aldwin thunked his cane on Osmond’s shin.

“A valid point, sir…” Ralphine raised an eyebrow.

“Aldwin. Just Aldwin, never gained a title I’m afraid.”

The two men shook hands.

“Did you train the lad?”

“I did. I was trained here in Castletown some thirty years ago, then had to withdraw myself on account of an ankle injury that’s haunted me ever since.”

“Thirty years ago? You wouldn’t happen to know Lord Liam of the Southern Hills would you?”

Aldwin’s face drained of color and his eyes shifted nervously, “I–umm… Yes. He was my sparring partner for several years in fact.”

“Really? Fancy that! He trained me during his campaign across Labrynna about ten years ago. Quite the attitude, but a damn fine instructor.”

“I’m surprised he took on another pupil. When last I spoke with him, his days of instruction were over… Course that was nearly thirty years ago itself…” Aldwin’s eyes misted over a bit.

“Sir Ralphine of Labrynna!”

Ralphine turned and acknowledged the young boy, then turned to Osmond. He extended his hand and Osmond shook it firmly.

“Remember the advice I gave you lad. Relax, anticipate, and you’ll do alright. Seems like you’ve got a great coach too. I hope to see you in the next round.”

With that, he spun around and left the tent with his navy cape fluttering in the breeze. Osmond stood in shock a moment before something broke his concentration. The man in the dark hood from the previous night, was seated in a corner.

Some of the competitors had moved about making the solitary man visible. As Aldwin gave Osmond instructions, he couldn’t help but feel that strange and ominous sensation that he’d felt after encountering the man.

“Are you listening?”

“I’m sorry Aldiwn, it’s just–”

“Listen! If you meet Sir Ralphine in the next round, attack his left side. He’s weak on it.”

“How do you know that?”

“Osmond of Castletown!”

The answer to the question would have to wait. Osmond was whisked out of the tent in seconds and led to the opening gates that led into the arena. As he left the tent, the man in the dark cloak never moved.

 

When The Era Without A Hero returns in a few weeks…

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the booming voice of the Sage of Fire, Huron, thundered out over the crowd. “Our next competitor is one of your own! From right here in Castletown, Osmond!”

The thunderous applause and cheers welcomed the suddenly uneasy Osmond into the arena. He politely nodded his head and raised his hand. For years he’d been one of those excited members, and he’d never stopped to consider what it was like on the other side. As he made his way to the center of the stadium, he blinked slowly and tried to focus the crowd out of his mind.

Remember… Relax and anticipate…

He readied himself and scanned the light brown dirt that surrounded him. There were several spots that looked like they’d been disturbed. Subtle, but clearly the result of a broom having just swept over it to conceal the trap door that the target would emerge from.

The steel of his blade rang out as he took his stance.

“Begin!”

*      *      *      *      *

Darkness veiled his face from the black robe that he wore. Long flowing parts of fabric drooped down around his waist and to the ground. The sleeves dragged along the ground as well but were cropped up to allow his hands exposure to the outside. His skin was blue.

Is he a Zora?

The hilt of his blade, shimmering gold with its grip wrapped in a sort of white cloth. Its scabbard matched the man’s cloak, save for the line of silver that extended the length of it. It was secured to the man’s hip by a black leather belt that was swallowed up by one of the folds in his cloak.

“Good luck,” Osmond said, getting into his fighting stance.

There was no response.

“Begin!” Huron shouted, slamming his fist on a bell.

 

David Wayne Nystrom is a Staff Writer for Zelda Dungeon. This story is an imagining of the final days of Hyrule prior to the Great Flood as talked about in the opening cinematic of The Wind Waker. His top three Zelda games are Ocarina of Time, The Wind Waker, and Link’s Awakening. He enjoys playing Smash Bros. a lot also. Follow him on Twitter. Every Era Has Heroes…