Part Seventy

Huron wrapped his hands around the trunk of a tree and lifted it out of the ground with a heave. In one mighty swing, three mounted soldiers found themselves being trampled on by their own horses.

Fado, meanwhile, was doing what he could as he stood over the weak body of the King. Blast after blast of magic pushed his enemies back, but they continued to come at him.

“A hand here?” he called out to Huron.

“No problem, little guy!”

Fado watched as the tree Huron was wielding was launched overhead and rolled down the hill over the wave of soldiers. Fado blasted it with a gust of wind and the pine needles erupted outward like tiny arrows. Soldiers collapsed or ducked for cover. When those who survived the attack rose again, Huron had scooped Fado and Daphnes up and began running again.

They were just near the top of the hill when a deafening explosion came from back near the castle. Huron spun around and Fado climbed up on his shoulder to get a better look.

On the bridge, a shockwave went out in every direction. The water below went out with great waves like a massive rock had fallen in. The bridge cracked but withstood the blast. Part of the gatehouse, though, crumbled like a wave washing over a sandcastle.

In the center of the bridge, the transformed knight and Osmond stood with their blades crossed and locked together. Osmond began to push back, seeming to have newfound strength. With one hand, he pushed the knight back. With his free hand, he reached back and threw out a punch that seemed to carry more weight than Huron’s hammer.

The facemask of the knight caved in and a crack formed straight back through the helmet. As he stumbled to the ground and fell back, Osmond rose. He lowered his blade next to him and looked up at the small group of soldiers assembled at the far side of the bridge.

There was a moment’s hesitation before they split in various directions. Four rushed the bridge with their spears extended toward Osmond. There were a couple who raced up to a nearby ballista and began to prepare it. The rest fled back down the road.

“What is he-“ Fado began. He fell silent as Osmond defended himself with ease.

The first spear missed just beside Osmond’s head as he tilted it slightly. He reached up and yanked it away from he soldier, then spun around and smashed its point on the side of the soldier’s helm. The soldier fell lifelessly over the side of the bridge and into the water.

The next two soldiers had their spears knocked down to the ground as Osmond brought the previous soldier’s spear down across them. He approached them methodically and drove his sword into the one on the right. He snapped the backend of his spear across the face of the soldier on the left, then plunged it into the side of his armor.


The soldiers that had scrambled to the nearby ballista let loose a shot. The javelin that was loaded into the artillery raced out of it and directly at Osmond. With ease, he reached back and raised his shield, deflecting the tip of the spear with a flurry of sparks. As the spear lodged into the outer walls of the castle behind, only a deep scratch where the tip had dug in, remained on the shield.

Panic gripped the soldiers as they scrambled to load another polearm into the cannon, but Osmond had broken into a full sprint and overtook the small unit in moments. A flash of black steel here and there, and they dropped to the ground as Osmond sheathed his blade and calmly began making his way toward the hill.

Fado gave a glance over to Huron, whose eyes were still fixed on Osmond. They began down the hill to meet their ally and when they did, they could see that there was something indeed different with him. However, this difference was fleeting.

When they arrived before him, there was a glow in his eyes that was beginning to fade. As it did, Osmond’s shoulders began to slack, and then he dropped to one knee. Had it not been for Fado’s quickness, he may have collapsed to the ground.

“Easy, lad,” Fado said, standing under Osmond’s shoulder and doing his best to support him.

“Where… Where is the King?” Osmond asked, his breathing burdened.

Huron lowered his arms, revealing the still unconscious King cradled carefully in them. Osmond then reached out his hand and placed it on the forehead of the King. In some ancient version of Hylian then, he uttered a phrase. There was a quick burst of white light that vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Osmond began to sink down again before Fado caught him and kept him upright.

“He’ll be okay. We… We must get to Kakariko City. Claire is on the move with your people, Huron. Some… Something has happened.”

“How do-“ Huron began, but finally Osmond collapsed.

*          *          *          *          *

As had become far too common for his liking, Osmond awoke in a strange and unexpected place. As his eyes focused on the surroundings, he quickly surmised that they were somewhere on the road between the North Castle and Kakariko City, though he didn’t recognize the road exactly.

He was laying under a small tent, supported by a tree on one side, and a large branch on the other. The sky beyond the tent flap was bright blue, maybe midday, and the sound of birds chirped overhead.

He began to sit up when the throbbing in his head began. As he raised his hand to massage the temples on his head, he noticed that his left hand was neatly bandaged. Ignoring the headache for a moment, he flexed is fingers and was relieved to feel no significant pain.

“Gather more wood. Dunno how long it’ll be ‘fore we can get through.”

Huron’s voice drew Osmond out from the tent. He shielded his eyes from the blazing sunlight and stood gingerly on his weak legs.

Fado dropped the bundle of sticks in his arms and rushed over to Osmond.

“Blazes, lad! Be careful. Sit down, please.”

Huron spun around and helped the Knight to a log near the smoldering fire. A darkened pot hung over it, filling the air with the sound and smell of bubbling something.

“Where are we?” Osmond asked once the two of his companions seemed satisfied he wasn’t going to collapse.

“The Red Pass. It’s a seldomly used route that cuts through the mountains from the north to the road between Goron City and Kakariko City. My ancestors used it when transporting stone to and from the construction of the North Castle.”

“Apparently,” Fado interjected, “the Goron’s erased it from their official maps and such as a precautionary measure, should Hyrule ever splinter into war again.”

“How’d we find it?”

“Because I told them about it.”

Osmond turned and looked over his shoulder. Standing next to a tent similar to his own, Daphnes stared down at the trio. Osmond fell over himself trying to get to a knee and render the proper etiquette. His effort was met with a slight confusion on the part of Fado and Huron, and the quiet approval of the King.

“Relax, Sir Osmond. Between the four of us, I believe only you may be worthy of such dignities and honor at this point.” Daphnes took a seat next to Osmond. “I have let my Kingdom crumble and fall. She stands like a gutted fish in the market.”


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 sometime in 2023 and there’s a complete soundtrack for the first volume here. Head over to 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…

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