Fan Fiction Friday: The Era Without A Hero – Part 56

||  Part Fifty-Five  ||  Part Fifty-Seven  ||

Part Fifty-Six

“It sure is nasty out there,” Huron said as he entered the tent and brushed off the small layer of snow that had built up on his shoulders.

“Yes, my lord,” one of the soldiers said, drawing a line across a map on one of the five tables.

“Any word from the first detachment? Are things still well near the Gerudo Gate?”

“No word, sir. I imagine this storm though has slowed anybody trying to pass communications.”

Huron nodded and approached the small fire near the middle of the tent. He was used to the heat, and not fully acclimated to the cold weather in these mountains. The Eldin Mountains had a few snowy and cold peaks, but Death Mountain fueled a lot of the mountains with warmth. It wasn’t until you traveled south beyond Kakariko City, closer to Zora’s Fountain, that snow fell and stuck.

Despite this more temperate weather lifestyle, Huron gladly accepted his duty to repel and disperse some of these extremist bands of Gerudo mercenaries. Many had been assembled and hired by Dragmire Clan survivors based on a hatred for Hyrulean policies. Some had been brought over on boats from distant lands, others were outcasts among Hylian society, and the rest were simply criminals lured in on the promise of easy money. Anybody disloyal to the crown found a home in the western foothills of the Lanayru Mountains.

Following some discussion with the King, Sagesse, and Kalia, it was decided that Huron’s abilities and leadership were needed on the Lanayru front. His one reservation was that it meant leaving Erie in charge back in Goron City once again. The compromise was that a few Hylian soldiers would be deployed to the city, should Erie try anything. They would then send word down the mountain to Kakariko City and then along to Castletown, where it could be passed on to Huron.

It was a constant source of worry for Huron, but one he knew was worth the burden. He dearly hoped that his brother would one day change. However, he also understood the mentality that drove Erie. He was, at heart, an isolationist. An idealist. Goron problems needed Goron solutions. Huron often admitted that Erie was right, but then had to argue that the means his brother would take to achieve the ends were wrong.

A rustling near the tent entrance drew Huron back from his thoughts.

A soldier covered in snow rushed in and over to the table where the soldier who had responded to Huron was.

“Message from Castletown, sir!”

Huron’s thoughts transformed into words, “Is it about my brother?”

The soldier opened the small envelope and read the contents to himself.

“Are you aware of what this letter says?” the first soldier asked.

The deliverer shook his head, “No, sir. I was only given it and instructed to hand it directly to the highest-ranking Hylian soldier here.”

The first soldier nodded and folded the letter up, tucking it in his belt pocket.

“What is it?” Huron asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Lord Huron. Everything is going according to plan.”

Huron eased his shoulders and let out a small breath. He returned to warming his hands over the fire.

The momentary ease was disrupted though when he watched the first soldier draw his dagger and slash it across the messenger’s neck.

“What in the name of Hylia?!”

“By direct order, I hereby assume command of the Lanayru platoon, declare that Lord Huron is stripped of his title, and order his immediate termination as an enemy of the state.”

Several soldiers who were seated around the tent drew their weapons. There were a few who did not, and simply looked around with confusion.

“This is an order. Any that do not comply will be taken into custody as traitors or struck down for resisting.”

Huron stumbled towards the door, fists at the ready. As he backed out into the wintery night, the soldiers began to rush him.

He punched the first assailant backward into another, then managed to drive his shoulder into the next. One swung their sword at his arm, and it cut open. Huron grabbed at it quickly and then slammed his head into the soldier, crushing part of his helmet in.

The soldiers surrounded Huron outside and began to close in. Some of the other soldiers began to fight back, but were quickly slain.

“What is the meaning of this?” Huron demanded.

“Finish this, I’ll see to the rest of the soldiers,” the now-commander said drawing his sword casually. He turned to a charging soldier and drove his blade into him.

The other turncoats began to close in.

“Alright, fine. Here we go!” Huron slammed his fists together and prepared for battle.

 

*          *          *          *          *

 

Osmond’s throat erupted in a watery burst as he coughed to life.

“Easy! There ya go!” Fado said patting Osmond’s back.

As the water cleared his lungs and throat, Osmond sucked in a breath and began to look around. The last thing he could remember was the black rock, the pouring rain, and the icy waters. This chamber inside the stone spire was as stark a contrast as could be imagined.

The sandy patch of ground where he and Fado were seated was warm and soft. An exotic-looking bush with large fern-like leaves rose just above them. Giant blooming flowers that transitioned from red to white on their tips grew out from the top of the bush. A wooden door was resting in the wall nearby. On it was carved the Hylian symbol for wind. The walls, though made of the same stone the outside of the cave was, reflected a completely different color. It was a reddish-brown, with flecks of green and blue scattered about.

“This place… it’s…”

“Beautiful. It’s the definition of beauty on the inside. It’s also at the very bottom of the tower. Once you’re feeling up to it, we’ll get climbing.”

The thought of more climbing nearly made Osmond wish the waters had taken him.

“Don’t worry, there are stairs,” Fado winked.

Osmond nodded with a small grin.

Something about the way Fado had said that triggered a memory of Aldwin. It was an old one, but one that Osmond had thought about whenever something had seemed too daunting.

It was about a year into his training with Aldwin. Osmond had insisted on learning some basic hand motions for the times when he might be without a sword. Aldwin, never fully trusting his ankle to practice the sort of motions Osmond wanted to try, encouraged him to attend some classes at a local martial arts center.

In Castletown, the only martial artists were Sheikah and were very selective about who they trained. It wasn’t something a carpenter’s apprentice secretly training to be a knight could just go and do. Despite this fact, Osmond was determined and did go to each master. He was unexpectedly turned away each time. When he returned to Aldwin discouraged, Aldwin tried a different method.

“There’s always another way. Be more resourceful.”

“How? They said I couldn’t train in their gyms.”

Aldwin lowered his eyes behind his book and flickered his eyebrows.

It took Osmond two weeks to figure out what Aldwin was getting at. When he did, Osmond rushed to the nearest gym and sat outside. When the students left, Osmond continued to wait. Night had fallen and he was about to go home when the master stepped out.

“Master sir,” Osmond popped up at attention, bowing respectfully.

The master took a long drag off an even longer pipe, noticing the boy but not looking in his direction.

“You told me that you wouldn’t train me in your gym.”

“Do-chung.”

“Pardon?”

“It is not called a gym. It is called a do-chung.”

“Ah, sorry, sir. You told me you wouldn’t train me in there. So, would you train me out here?”

He took another long drag off his pipe.

Osmond bowed again, attempting to convey his sincerity.

“You are quite the clever one. Who do you train under now?”

“I’m sorry? I don’t train now.”

“The bruises on your knuckles say otherwise.”

Osmond looked at his hands and then hid them behind himself.

“Based on your walk, those bruises, and your mannerisms, I’d say you’re training to become a soldier or knight.”

“You could tell all that?”

He smiled, “I only guessed. You confirmed it.”

Osmond winced.

“Your first lesson is over. If you learn the lessons I teach you out here, I will allow you inside to learn the physical skills you desire. Understood?”

Osmond bowed enthusiastically, “Yes, sir!”

When he returned to Aldwin the next morning and told him about the encounter, Aldwin smiled and laughed.

“There’s always another way. An easier way. You thought you had to be some tough warrior to gain entry. You merely had to listen and be patient.”

There was always another way.

There are always stairs.

“Ready to go?” Osmond asked, standing up and starting towards the door.

Fado nodded but paused.

“I wouldn’t open that door if I were you.”

“Why not? Aren’t the stairs through here?”

“Firstly, no. The stairs are around the outside of the walls,” he pointed past the bush to a small bit of rock that jutted out. “And secondly, worms.”

Osmond paused.

“Worms?”

“Best not to think about it too much. Come on.”

Fado hopped up and began to ascend the previously unseen staircase. Osmond glanced back at the door for a moment, then followed after the Sage of Wind.

The stairs were nearly invisible from the interior of the room, but as they stepped from one to another, the next became more apparent. They ascended to the ceiling and entered a room with a large floor made of steel. On the floor, rested what appeared to be a large blade that could be made to swing about.

“What is this?”

“It’s a mechanism that generates wind. And it’s how you and I are going up to the next level!”

Fado handed Osmond a Korok leaf that was resting against the wall. Confused, Osmond took it and watched as Fado pulled out his slingshot and fired a seed at the center of the blade. Then, with a devilish grin, he hopped onto a platform above the fan and floated his own Korok leaf above his head. With a charged gust of wind, he rocketed upward. Osmond shook his head and followed suit.

The rush of wind was far stronger than he expected. It was all Osmond could do to hold onto the Korok leaf, but he managed. As he ascended the enormous wind tunnel, he caught glimpses of the floors they were racing past.

One had the makings of a small forest, another a pristine lake, and one even seemed to have a small house on it. From the outside, the spire of rock amid the Black Cliffs seemed barely large enough to contain the handful of rooms, and yet it did. Magic was the most likely answer to this impossibility and one that Osmond would have to settle on for the time being.

They came to a stop about ten stories up, the wind now evenly holding their bodies afloat. Fado motioned to a landing just ahead of them and he tilted his leaf to catch the wind so that it would pull him in that direction. Osmond followed and they landed safely.

“That was incredible.”

“It is a bit of a rush, isn’t it?”

On the landing was a door marked with the same symbol as the one on the lowest level. Two sconces on the wall next to it were aflame with green fire. A pair of bushes were lined up next to the wall on either side as well. When the duo began to approach, the bushes erupted upward, revealing the Deku Scrubs underneath.

“Master Fado!”

“You have returned!”

Fado smiled and nodded, “Hello sirs.”

“Wicked lady atop.”

“Very wicked lady.”

“We know, and that’s why we’re here. Is Njordos around?”

The two scrubs shook and looked at one another, then ducked back down in their bushes.

“Why so frightened?”

“Lord Njordos… He around.”

“He angry.”

“Angry, not right. Mad. Mad right.”

“Right, mad.”

“Mad?” Fado inquired further.

“Says wicked lady is doom bringer.”

“Death follows her.”

Fado nodded solemnly. He knelt down just in front of the Deku duo. When he spoke, that tone of unexpected maturity came through once more.

“You two need to leave this place. Head to the forest and rest. Then journey into the Lost Woods and find the road to the world of the moon. You will never need fear for your lives in that kingdom.”

They peeked out of their bushes slightly.

“Tell us go?”

“Relive us of highest duty?”

“I am. With the most prestigious honors. You shall be recognized as the greatest Deku Warriors in all of Hyrule.”

They burst forth from their shrubberies again, triumphantly sticking out their chests and raising their snouts to the sky.

“Go forth my brothers. Be free and honorable.”

They hopped completely away and leaped into the wind tunnel, vanishing to one of the lower levels.

“Where did you send them?” Osmond asked.

“Hopefully to a place far from war. There’s a story about a road in the Lost Woods that leads those who seek it to another place, another world. I don’t know if it truly exists, but I’d like to think that it does. My hope is that they’ll at least find safety in the forest, and maybe more if they discover the road.”

Osmond hoped the same as well. The idea sounded nice.

“Would you seek the road?” Fado asked.

“I… don’t know.”

“War is a tragic thing. We live in a world where, despite us living for so long in peace, such tragedies seem to be a regular occurrence. It is a grand wonder why such things have to happen and a pity that we are made to suffer them.”

Osmond remained silent.

“Yet out of tragedy, we see such examples of heroism, of humanity, of love and kindness. Imagine if we could live out those virtues without having to endure such hardships. Perhaps those virtues would be meaningless then. Perhaps without the lows of life, we couldn’t appreciate the highs. We wouldn’t be made to hunt down somebody who we once held dear, just to be with the ones we love. We wouldn’t be waging war against an entire nation led by one villainous individual, and instead would be celebrating as we did at the Swordsman Festival…”

“We all fall short of the Golden Truth,” Osmond said. “As long as we exist, we will stumble and make mistakes. Righteousness doesn’t come from empty virtue, but from gallant bravery and truth. Holding those responsible accountable isn’t the tragedy. The tragedy is that they fault to begin with.”

Now it was Fado’s turn to be still.

After a moment of the two reflecting on what lay beyond the door ahead of them, Fado spoke up.

“Be on your guard through here. I expect Rutela to have nothing left to lose at this point.”

Osmond drew his sword and nodded.

Together they approached the door and opened it.

They climbed the stairs on the other side and exited the tower onto the roof that they had seen from the other side.

 

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 story is getting an audio version in podcast form set to begin releasing in early 2022 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! Every Era Has Heroes…