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“Again!”

The young man, now fifteen, struggled to his feet in the scorching desert climate. The whip cracked overhead loudly, and he charged the dummy with a vicious rage. He tore into the soft fabric on its sides and plunged his hands inside, ripping the sack of animal guts out and onto the ground.

“Good,” Ribura bellowed. “You may have some brawling skills in you after all.”

The boy stiffened his glare at her, wiping his nose and smearing the blood from the innards across his face.

“Don’t worry, litio konungur, you may rest for a moment.”

The boy spat at her feet and began towards the basin of water nearby. He stopped when he felt her hand grab at his wrist.

“You are no king yet. You have yet to show your worth. For all we know, your mother stole you from some Hylian welp. I would think carefully about your attitude.”

He seized his wrist back and continued his silent march to the water. When he reached it, he looked down at his reflection. Without the disguise that he’d worn in his youth, he felt strangely naked but also empowered. In the years since coming here with Ribura, gone was the appearance of the quiet and reclusive child, and in its place was a young man who was expected to do great things.

“Have you had your fill yet?”

He reached down and scooped up a handful of the water. He slurped it down as the sound of the servants bringing in the next dummy filled the space. He took a long breath and turned. He froze when he saw that was no dummy.

In the center of the courtyard, two of Ribura’s soldiers stood holding a beaten and bloodied Hylian soldier. One ripped the helmet off and tossed it aside, revealing a head of matted black hair that hung over his face in a bloody mess.

“I think I am done waiting for you to prove your loyalty to this bloodline.” Ribura’s lips curled as she ran her fingers seductively across the beaten man’s chin. “Prove to me that you are worth the time I’ve spent. The years of feeding you, clothing you, training you. It’s time you earned your name.”

He suddenly felt like a scared boy again. The feelings of watching his mother slaughtered returned. Then the pain in her face. The images of the swords. The blood. The death. The killing. The soldiers.

The soldiers.

The Hylians.

The Goddesses of Hyrule.

All the things that existed in ways he could not.

“Do it!”

He charged forward and pulled back his fist. He let out a guttural battle cry. His fist raced forward, erupting in a black and purple cloud. A torrent of black and purple magic exploded the moment his knuckles broke through the man’s armor. The burst of power slowly fell down to the ground like snow.

There was no soldier.

There was no Hylian.

There was nothing that remained.

The two soldiers that had brought the man, stumbled backward in fear. As they began to race to the courtyard exit, Ribura stepped through the gate and closed it.

With the same curled lip smile as before, she turned a key and locked the gate, before saying, “When you’ve finished with your training, there is someone I’d like you to meet. You may come and join me in my quarters.”

She tossed the key into the yard.

One of the guards scrambled for it, then looked up to see the boy’s deep blue eyes glowing with a purple and black haze.

Cries of terror filled the hallway as Ribura calmly walked away.


“That’s quite the dream,” Fado said doubtingly.

“It wasn’t just a dream, it was like… somebody was trying to tell me something.”

“It’s not unheard of for people to have visions or prophetic dreams,” Zelda said.

“It’s not unheard of in the royal family,” Fado responded. “Prophecy is a gift, I admit, but I’m a bit skeptical of somebody with no connection to the Triforce of Wisdom exhibiting it so suddenly and clearly.”

Osmond nodded in understanding, “I know what your saying, but I also know what I saw.”

They packed up their camp in the morning light, and continued up the river. They passed some remains of a house that had probably been a fishing hut at one time, but the banks of the river had risen to engulf the lower floor. Nonetheless, Fado encouraged tying the horses up near it and proceeding ahead on foot.

The tall walls of earth that rose up on the banks let them know they were entering the portion of Zora’s River that were historic and sacred to the Zora people. An engraving into the stone, caused Fado to pause.

“What is it?”

“More memories. You’ve heard the story that Lady Ruto was supposedly engaged to the Hero of Time, yes?”

Zelda chuckled, “Yes. It’s one of those romance stories that my mother would read to me when I was a girl.”

“It was also an occasional study topic that Aldwin would encourage me to read.”

“Yes, well it did happen. The Hero was forced to enter the great water deity, Lord Jabu-Jabu and rescued her along with the Spiritual Stone of Water. When the Hero returned from his divine sleep in the Sacred Realm, Lord Jabu-Jabu had succumbed to the frigid cold but entrusted Lady Ruto with a great treasure. She managed to keep it hidden from the Dark Lord, but sometime later rumors spread that it was a powerful object sent from the Gods that Lord Jabu-Jabu was entrusted to protect.”

Fado turned and began on a natural bridge that crossed the frigid water as he continued, “There was a long-standing theory that the treasure is what drew the monster that forced the Zora to move on from Zora’s Domain. I had only met Lady Ruto a couple times when she came to the forest to spend time with Lady Saria, but I’ll never forget the last time.”

“What happened?” Zelda asked.

“She was… uneasy. When she spoke with me, she seemed distracted and almost afraid. Saria arrived then though, and they went off to speak privately. For a leader and royalty, Lady Ruto was still very much a young girl. She knew how to lead her people, and could command an army in the right circumstances, but at the end of the day she always felt like there was something missing in her life. An unfulfilled purpose.”

He went quiet for a moment as they traveled up an embankment and reached a wooden bridge. Below the bridge was an array of boulders and some fish desperately trying to swim around them. The path narrowed on the other side of the bridge and they walked closely to the stone wall as it traveled around a bend.

“What do you think that purpose was?” Osmond asked when the path extended again.

“Truthfully? I think she was sad that the love of her life was gone. She didn’t know how to move on after the Dark Lord was sealed. She was a sage and the Hero… Well, he was gone. It’s a difficult thing to explain, because I think they both knew they would never be anything more, but she had a harder time accepting it I suppose.”

“That’s so sad,” Zelda said. “I can’t imagine letting something like that hold me back.”

“It was different for her,” Fado replied. “She had so much thrust upon her after her father’s passing. She spent seven years leading her people that escaped the Long Winter while her father was frozen here. Then just three years after the dethroning of the Dark Lord, he fell ill and never recovered. Lady Ruto struggled with the dual responsibility of leading her people but also being a Sage. She never had time to forge relationships for herself, there was always something for her to deal with. So, I think her affection for the Hero was also a remembrance of simpler times, happier times. She couldn’t move on because… well, she didn’t want to.”

Zelda nodded, understanding a little more than before.

They continued their journey upstream for a while longer. Some small talk was made, but nothing particularly memorable. That became especially true though, when they came over the last hill before the Sleepless Waterfall.

The mountains towered all around in a near circle, but were split in half by the enormous white cascade. The peaks of the falls were as high as the tallest spire of Hyrule Castle and the tremendous roar of the water could have shaken the earth. A few natural bridges crisscrossed before it, and one played host to a small pedestal. Just off to the right of the small lake where the water poured into, was a smaller pond with a small shrine built on the far side.

Osmond became aware of his jaw hanging open as he stared up to the top of the waterfall when Fado called for them. Zelda had been staring up at the crest in amazement as well.

“There’s only one way in,” the small sage shouted.

“What’s that?” Osmond yelled back, holding his hand to his ear to better hear Fado.

“J—!”

“What?”

“J–p!” Fado swung his arms beside his hips while bending his knees and leaning toward the waterfall.

“Jump?!” Osmond’s eyes widened. “Are you insane?!”

Before a response could come, Fado leapt towards the water and reached his arms out as far as they’d go. A moment later, and he’d disappeared behind the curtain of freezing rushing water.

Osmond looked at Zelda, and she shrugged as if saying, ‘if he did it, we can do it too.’ Osmond grimaced, and was about to look for another way when Fado’s head popped out from the falls.

“Well, come on!”

Zelda smiled and winked at Osmond, then leapt forward. She too vanished behind the waterfall. With a pit in his stomach, Osmond prepared himself to jump forward. He held his breath. Closed his eyes. Then jumped.

 

David Wayne Nystrom is a Staff Writer for Zelda Dungeon. This story is an imagining of the final days in Hyrule prior to the Great Flood talked about in the opening cinematic of The Wind Waker. The first six chapters are available in audio podcast form and there’s a complete soundtrack for the first volume here. Head over to erawithoutahero.wordpress.com or follow the story account on twitter @ZeldaTEWAH where you can keep up on information regarding the future of the podcast, soundtrack, and other TEWAH news that will be coming soon! David’s top three Zelda games are Ocarina of Time, The Wind Waker, and Link’s Awakening. He’s also an avid Smash Bros. fan. Every Era Has Heroes…

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