★⊱ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ ⊰★
One need not be a
graveyard to have skeletons,
One need not be a
wanderer to be lost,
One need not be a
hero to show courage,
One need not be an
evil to know darkness.
★⊱ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ ⊰★
Peace never lasted,
nor was there a chance that any semblance of tranquility could possibly survive within a world drowning in hostility and aggression and bitterness— the bustling streets and timeworn countryside roads seldom free from skulking soldiers sending distrustful glares at simple townsfolk and dishonorable mercenaries alike, the kingdom war-torn and struggling internally and externally. The existing tension was strange— anyone even mildly self-conscious felt the hostility straining and monstrously bubbling like a festering wound leaking copious amounts of blood around infected edges without a sign of stopping soon —like a slow ascension before a monumental disaster that would shake the very foundations hopeless people heavily relied upon.
But, when there's an ascension, whatever goes up, must come down eventually.
Before the inevitable plunge, there's always a brief reprieve— a silence so chillingly resounding that everything comes to a complete standstill as if frozen, countless eyes, curious and equally horrified, watching and waiting to see if the consequential descent is enough to kill.
And then, chaos.
Hyrule Kingdom was indisputably supposed to be a safe haven for all, but every rule has an unfortunate exception— and a deeply inadequate monarch ready to demonstrate their incompetency when control is no longer a reachable option.
What most failed to realize under these dire circumstances is that, the mightier the fall of a civilization, the more afflicted those below would be than those aloft their comfortable thrones of gilded gold— like danger trickling down a small stream until it quickly gained momentum, becoming an untamable raging river that swept all into a untimely, watery grave. Although some attempted to foolishly brave the brewing threat and cushion the landing to prevent additional damage, nobody truly understood what triggered Hyrule to be ruthlessly kicked off its grand pedestal so suddenly— so suddenly it seemed suspiciously deliberate. With every long night passing with more death than not, nowadays, any quiet refuge was a rare, simple pleasure when even the unmovable heavens above seemed to be precariously teetering on the precipice of a destructive collapse.
And yet, despite the odds being against them, a small group was determined to continue fighting the internal discord— fighting and unwilling to lose.
A group that had suffered thanklessly.
A group that was dying.
A group that had dwindled to a meager one.
Beyond the distant horizon, dark and vengeful cloud formations hovered menacingly over Hyrule's mountainous land, blocking the twinkling stars from guiding the lost that were pitifully begging for relief down below, but they were ultimately destined to be ignored. A light breeze restlessly stirred the deserted shadows slinking tendril-like limbs over those it claimed as victims, but a sudden bolt of crackling lightning made the black shrouds shatter from being exposed to the blinding light, revealing a chilling sight straight from the worst of suffocating nightmares, and then darkness hastily consumed the haunting scenery once more. A slight drizzle delicately whispered through the uncomfortably frigid nighttime air, the unexpected rainstorm's translucent silver threads toppling from the overcast heavens in piercing droves. Small raindrops chaotically pattered against nearby surfaces, and it was becoming more obvious by the seconds slowly ticking at a crawling pace that this gloomy evening would be dreadfully sleepless and unpredictably discomforting until morning arrived and a new day dawned upon the horrors humanity had to offer.
Thick and heavy, the cold sheets of coalesced droplets increased in pressure suddenly and continued falling without pause— if the immediate surroundings were desirable, the small storm would be considered a soothing comfort for lonely souls and would be a rather beautiful sight despite the cloudiness snuffing any light out of existence. However, there was a unsettling background noise that made for an unwelcoming guest, one which was unwilling to be ignored —barking and snapping and howling horribly like a malicious phantom preying upon unsuspecting sacrifices as it creeped. In the middle of deep winter —yet strangely warm enough to threaten rain —a foreboding absence of light overwhelmed the night, sinister and extremely unpleasant, chilled breezes shockingly harmonizing with the ominous snapping of an occasional fierce wind, acting like a disembodied, ghostly song distantly coming and going, continuously searching for something to tauntingly haunt. Perhaps there was a mournful cry echoing somewhere nearby, it was entirely possible to mistake such foreboding sounds, which was caused by the adverse weather. Other than the clamoring gales, there was also a disconcerting lull in commotion.
Then, all at once between a few precious moments, the outside cacophony came roaring back a thousandfold in blinding, threatening flashes.
Beyond any known civilization in a hidden location, a great sprawling community of dilapidated ruins fell into permanent devastation, a dense feeling of emptiness and hopelessness weighed somberly on what little actually remained. Multiple separate fires unremittingly swept through ravaged paths now blocked by crumbled debris or bloodied weapons or dead bodies, scorching and perpetually devouring despite the abnormal showering rain —the rasping infernos starving to simply destroy while the unfortunate casualties were years of aged history being lost immediately, fascinating buildings reduced to mere heaps of rubble in minutes. A thunderous bombardment of intermittent, shrilling screams and languishing wails were eerily projected up to the still weeping sky, the cutting sounds leaping and bouncing over the tumultuous anarchy before dropping in harshness with no warning as if stopped cold.
A perfectly sad ending to a dismal climax.
However, as if by some unexplained miracle, one structure remained marginally untouched, but all was not well within.
Crawling straight from an unrelenting nightmare or the most shockingly horrendous imagination, broken bodies littered the busted and destroyed floor in an unwilling display of bitter submission. Darker than black, scrawling shadows of the oblivion jumped and grudgingly decreased in severity as a menacing brightness increased. Several extravagant stained-glass windows were obliterated by the devouring blaze still ravenously feeding on the dead and dying. Magnificent, complicated monuments were knocked over in a life or death struggle, shattering centuries of memoirs and untold knowledge of a time long since passed. Ornate marble decorations were battered and scratched, becoming a tarnished vermillion by remaining in such cruel surroundings.
Fresh blood unpleasantly flowed between the fractured cracks, eerily matching the color of the sinister uniforms dressing the deceased underlings' spiritless carcasses – a dark rebellion gone horribly wrong. This lovely, forgotten, once beloved, temple had witnessed terrifying quantities of bloodshed all for a single purpose.
Backed into a corner, a lone woman of immeasurable loveliness barely stood amongst the scattered debris, her waning strength nearly consumed and drained. Her rushed, labored breathing echoed in the expansive, hollowed space, vision spinning in dizzying circles as she worriedly hyperventilated rather uneasily. Exhaustedly slumping against a towering, blood-spattered goddess statue and desperately trying to calm down, she clutched her extremely pregnant stomach while another hand mindlessly dropped a reliable, plasma-soaked weapon.
Sorrowfully looking upon the deplorable wreckage she incidentally caused with disbelieving, bloodshot eyes, salty tears abundantly saturated her colorfully flushed cheeks, almost suffocating on heaving, painful sobs of astonishment and outright denial.
Silently crying out as an agonizing contraction mercilessly ripped through her, the happy, blissful moment she's been excitedly anticipating for months turned regrettably sour.
A horrible warning.
A bad premonition.
This new life would be inevitably cursed – born to die. Forever chased to the ends of earth.
Inhaling deeply and feeling strangely secure underneath the benevolent, immortalized gaze of the deity's extraordinary sculpture, the isolated woman basically crumbled downward to the moss-covered ground, mentally preparing for the gruesome, grueling childbirth ahead. As originally predicted, the following hours henceforth were nothing less than pure heartbreak and continuous anguish as the world tragically burned to irreparable ashes. Alone, she suffered endlessly with no help from expertly trained midwives in this unexpected, dangerous situation.
It was significantly far from an ideal birthing setting, but there was no other choice.
Nonetheless, she happened to be staggeringly brilliant, which was a particularly valuable asset right now and in her extremely important position in Hyrule Kingdom's sophisticated, glamorous society.
Long after the blistering inferno diminished to smoldering, glowing embers and smothering smoke, a breathless wail pierced the darkness closely followed by another – a remarkable set of twins were born without a problem, their dual heartbeats invariably strong and healthy.
A disheveled mess and huffing faintly, yet stubbornly fighting unconsciousness, the distressed mother robotically searched her, thankfully, organized satchel for acceptable wrappings to swaddle her precious babies in. Without the appropriate materials such as warm water, neither could be cleaned properly like standard procedure, but that necessity would need to wait for now. Every other correct medical requirement was easily fulfilled, though. Conscientiously dealing with the awfully fussy boy first and foremost, she grievously whispered a sweet and somber name befitting his inevitable fate, fretfully double-checking his condition just in case something went wrong in the matter of a couple minutes. Next, she pampered the docile, well-behaved female that made little to zero noise.
Within the following life-altering moments, she promptly outstretched a timid hand, brushing a thoughtful fingertip over her daughter's scrunched forehead, abruptly flinching as she sensed that unwavering connection of something preeminent and fateful again. Scared and anxious, the unnerved woman oh so carefully touched the newly born's exceedingly small fingers, feeling such a profound, fathomless love she sensitively began distraughtly sobbing once more, self-soothingly rocking back and forth as she gently cradled both her sleeping children, subconsciously sheltering the unknowingly oblivious two from the countless evils stalking or encompassing them, specifically gazing at her daughter especially.
". . . (Y/n)," the woman emotionally croaked, a tight lump forming in her parched throat, affectionately admiring the infant's already charming features. "My sweet, innocent angel, why you?"
To anyone else, the rambling mother would have sounded uncontrollably hysterical or absolutely demented. Though, taking into account Hyrule's established, deep-rooted culture, most thought name blessings were an incredibly meaningful practice that essentially foretold someone's predestined path and future dreams before any other prevalent thing, invisibly writing the significance of a brand new existence from that unquestionable starting point, celebrating historical lineages way beyond their initial subjective implications.
Being a predominating, influential member from a highly secretive tribe that exercised unusual amounts of caution, yet emphasized the importance of kindness and intelligence, she knew more confidential information than everyone in Hyrule combined. Since a select number of her clever tribespeople, including herself, were positively – sometimes negatively – notorious for possessing the innate, frightening ability to foreshadow events and anticipate disaster, eager parents oftentimes sought their specialized services. Purposefully conquering the weird world of mysteries, one such key piece of knowledge passed down from generation to generation was a certain, distinguished name only a single individual was allowed to know. Always unequivocally worshipped and honored, the unfortunate namesake was atypically sacred, but also relatively feared because voluntarily bestowing it upon a child meant imminent change and inescapable catastrophes were nearing very soon.
Suddenly, the frightful booming of a damaged and deformed infrastructure toppling startled the thinking woman and massively agitated everything as even the air disruptively shook. Stomach churning unpleasantly, she adamantly glanced around the demolished area, forcefully holding back the blubbering confusion, unwittingly absorbing the twisted serenade of captivating, hypnotic darkness up above. Surprisingly, a delicate illustrious light shyly peaked through rotting wood rafters. The severely corrupted temple's roof had previously caved inward somewhat, consequently showing the full, incandescent moon in its ginormous, overflowing glory, showering the only alive inhabitants in an otherworldly illumination as if enthusiastically welcoming and favorably approving of this blessed development.
Teeth resolutely gnashing together, she buried every incessant concern hounding her irrationally paranoid mind, trembling and swaying a tad unstably as she gathered her bearings, finally standing firmly and confidently. Gaze trained forward determinedly, she cautiously maneuvered overtop rough fragments of smashed stone while also avoiding the lifeless, absentminded eyes haunting her movements. Her unfaltering willpower was the only factor keeping her gut undisturbed by such horrid sights.
Eventually reaching the vacant, overarching entryway, stepping outdoors was like entering suspended, infernal pandemonium – a battlefield of glaring malfeasance and dehumanization of the worst kind. The aftermath and depravation sickened her immensely, palms sweating nervously as the appalling carnage reflected in her glossy, saddened irises. Burned beyond possible recognition, the deserted pathway ahead was dauntingly marked by shriveled, haggard trees and deteriorating corpses, which was thoroughly annihilated by the sweltering flames from earlier. Trailing the overwhelming plume of manifesting vapor rising overhead, a heaping assemblage of twinkling stars adorned the inky midnight sky, humongous clouds rolling in fast and blocking the ethereal moonlight.
Without much warning, vast magnitudes of arctic-white snow fell in battering, thick flurries, peppering the depressing slaughter below. The wintery wonderland getting cloaked in powdery snowflakes should have been calming and teeming with merriment, but the atrocities committed prevented such lightheartedness.
Despairingly chewing on her bruised bottom lip, she impulsively tossed a hesitant look over her left shoulder, internally saying a soft, lamentable farewell to her deceased friends and associates that valiantly tried protecting her against their malevolent enemies. Leaving everyone she cherished behind hurt astronomically because they were abandoned amongst lawless criminals of the traitorous Yiga Clan, and would never receive befitting funerals or hug loved ones ever again. Heart tearing into microscopic pieces, she obstinately faced forward while removing the upsetting images from her aching head, possessively embracing her restlessly slumbering babies.
Sticking to her unchanging tenaciousness and putting motherhood above all else, she dotingly kissed her twins' cherubic faces, attentively lingering on her adorable daughter, "My darling (Y/n), I will never let you become Hyrule's sacrifice," whose momentous identity, which should indisputably stay classified, and esteemed name would certainly reshape everything from here on out, "Whatever it takes. . . No matter what I have to do," and imperatively needed guarded for her own good, "I will keep you safe. . ."
Intensely concentrating on the present, she vacated the alarmingly frigid region with her small, beloved family, realizing these harrowing events would be a substantial transformation in several preordained destinies.
Under the unlucky circumstances in which (Y/n) was born: surrounded by casualties, sinking into the infinite shadows already, and unimaginably connected to an ancient heritage, persistent adversaries would plague the young girl repeatedly, but she'd bravely challenge every difficulty and hardship with endless fortitude.
Yes, her story was just officially unfolding. . .
. . . And, so now it begins. . .