(ZGen)Whitefire[E-T]

Note: You may have to switch to a different skin (I recommend green) to read some of this (the story body, most specifically) if you're using the White one.

“Whitefire” is set hundreds of years before Ocarina of Time. The Temple of Time has not yet been built, the Master Sword has not yet been forged, Hyrule has not been established as a united nation. “Whitefire” follows the character Rauru, the Ancient Sage, as he attempts to make sense of the chaos all around him and grant purpose and hope to his fellow Hyruleans.

Much of “Whitefire” is social and political commentary—so be prepared for a lot of monologue on the narrator’s part, and on the characters’ parts. “Whitefire”, along with the two as-of-yet-unnamed second and third installments, will be released in tri-weekly segments (a new segment approx. every other day), each about a page or two long on Microsoft Word. They should come to be about thirty to fifty pages long each in the end.

Zelda Chronicles – Ocarina of Time
Book One – “Whitefire”

~ 1 ~ “When, In the Course of Human Events…”

Rauru was slightly bothered.

Seldom does one consider the prospect of being bothered to be particularly enjoyable, to put it pleasantly (although, more accurately, most do not consider it to be enjoyable at all). It is only natural, of course, that matters should be so—after all, were the act of bothering anything but irritating, there could hardly be peace in the world. Not that it would matter by any stretch, since, in that case, no one would pay it much mind. Peace is, by and large, irrelevant in the instance that nobody is in opposition to the alternative.

Such was the state of affairs in Hyrule during the epoch of the primeval fierce wars—there was no peace, and even less of anything remotely resembling a craving for it. The three (or was it four?—who could tell these days?) warring nations were perpetually at odds, it seemed, and it appeared that there could be no end to the strife that had plagued Hyrule since she saw her first sun. Not that it mattered by any noteworthy stretch, since no one gave any impression of comprehending the apparent lack of order—they were all blinded by their insatiable greed and had come to expect discord. The people—if they can even be classified as such, in a single definable group—were more than content to carry on with their petty squabbling and inclinations towards dead-end cutthroat interrogations and senseless conquest (inclinations which, as ‘tis important to note, typically led to more of the same—aye, history and fate be such cruel mistresses).

Not only that, but monsters of every terrible sort—lizardmen, lycanthropes, dragons, and the like—had been quick to take advantage of the prevalent disunity and had speedily proceeded to ravage the countryside, not to mention everything else within incinerating distance. Of course, this only added to the already insurmountable turmoil—more fuel for the self-feeding flame. The Gorons, plagued by the ravages left behind in the wake of the demon dragon Volvagia, were quick to pass judgment on the Gerudo, the desert-dwellers, on account of their affinity with dragons. The Gerudo, on the other hand, blamed their long-standing drought on the water deity, Jabu-Jabu, and swore vengeance upon his constituents, the Zoras. And so it continued—in a never-ending cycle—this baseless scapegoating, this ceaseless passing of guilt between groups as though they might eventually exact justice upon one another.

As it turned out, before they could further pursue any of these accusations, the prosecutors usually forgot their not-so-deep-seated resentments and instead returned to their relentless, fruitless pursuits of the sacred place where the Golden Power supposedly rested, oblivious to and uncaring towards the world that was falling apart around them. Again, such was the state of things—no one knew what was happening because no one, at the time, was particularly sensitive to it.

All of this bothered Rauru, and intensely at that, and that fact was altogether intolerable.

So what did he plan to do?—he planned to remedy it, of course.

A-amazing, I am truly baffled. You are an excellent storyteller, this probably was exactly the way it was in Rauru's time.

Thanks to Link-herooftime for the comments and response. Here's section two.

~2~ “Among the Powers of the Earth”

The Gathering was the first meeting of its kind. All manner of peoples, races, and cultures turned out, although, admittedly, the sweeping majority of delegates (‘delegates’ being a term used liberally, here) had probably shown up in hopes of seizing a chance to cause some mischief rather than to actually address the matter at hand. Chambers echoed with insults, rude remarks, and various food articles flying back and forth, many of them obviously preprepared (or, in the case of the foodstuff, unprepared). The Gerudo had even been so tactless as to bring their weapons—not to mention openly display them. This was a most unlikely crowd to be deciding on a course of action against the spate of anarchy, especially considering that they were largely the ones responsible for it.

Nevertheless, they had all responded to Rauru’s call, and they were all sitting together in the same room, and no one had killed anyone else yet, so that was certainly a start.

When Rauru entered Chambers the entire cacophony fell silent—every shout cut itself short, every rude gesture withdrew under the table, and all who were present calmly waited for him to speak. It was as though his presence alone demanded respect, which came as no surprise, for he was as timeless and as wise as the world itself—even wiser, perhaps—and none of those who were in attendance had likely ever encountered such a commanding atmosphere in all the span of their pitifully short lives. He had anticipated this—nay, he had foreseen it.

Though he could hardly say he was worthy of even the half of it.

And so, with this wealth of pretentious authority at his disposal, he addressed the assembly: “Welcome, emissaries of Hyrule—I am most pleased that you all could attend this most imperative Gathering. I am Rauru, Caretaker of Tomes. As I am sure you are all abundantly aware, but much too stubborn to admit, the state of affairs in Hyrule is an absolute travesty. There is no unity, no equity, and no interest in the common good. The lot of you—down to the very last—is made up of selfish, greedy, whoring, disinterested and depraved gluttons who haven’t a worry in the world about anything or anyone but yourselves and your own ‘personal security’ or some other such rubbish. It is a miracle of mercy that you all even exist, and an incomprehensible wonder that any of you survive to carry on your respective lines.”

The delegation burst out in rabbles of displeasure, as expected (although Rauru would have said, had anyone asked, that he had been unnecessarily generous in his tirade) but, curiously enough, most of them opted to keep their criticism to themselves as opposed to directing it towards their neighbors. No one could cast the blame on another, for the only blame there could possibly be was upon oneself—Rauru had been careful to address no single individual or group but the entire assembly, and it appeared that they had acknowledged this. Such could only be the mark of progress.

One unsavory character managed to muster the audacity to challenge Rauru—Valoragh, King of the Gerudo thieves, sovereign of the desert sands. Amongst his female counterparts, he was the only one to carry a sword—the rest of them had spears—and, though it was not uncommon in those days for male Gerudo to be better equipped than his subordinates, he was also the only one to wear armor. He and his clan looked as though they were dressed for battle, not for a peace settlement, but the Gerudo were a fierce bunch, and Rauru had not expected any better of them.

“And by what Divine Right have you, Most Esteemed Bookkeeper, the power to pass such judgment?” the King of Thieves bellowed. “I can see right through you and your pretended authority!”

Rauru was not amused at these baseless suppositions, but, then again, he had hardly thought Valinagh would place himself above tossing out insults. “Whenever did I make any such claim, O Chosen of the Desert?” Rauru asked. “I, for one, do not recall ever having done so—unless, of course, you believe that one requires the Good Favor of the Divine in order to declare what is painfully obvious. Though, to be fair, I hardly reckon such a philosophy to be one that a man of such judicious stature as you would dare subscribe to, unless, of course, I am deeply mistaken.”

Without yielding to Valinagh a chance to respond, he turned to address the entire congregation. “Am I mistaken, friends?” he spoke to the crowds. “Have I, in fact, spoken out-of-turn, and asserted the place reserved only for the Kings of old?” He inspected the assembly, only to ascertain that of which he was already aware—that not a soul would dispute him, neither through the spoken remark nor through a mere raising of the hand. How could they?—what he had declared to Valinagh was true. Valinagh glanced about Chambers and, noting that no one—not even one of his subordinates—was willing to make a fool of himself, to become a political martyr along with the famed (and hated) Gerudo King, he retired to his seat without another word.

“Now then, unless anyone else has another foolish question that he would like to make known,” Rauru said, “I believe we ought to proceed.”

I'm not joking about your storytelling, this time and age needs this sort of wake-up call, because I'm seeing a LOT of parallels here.

I have to ask, "Are you using modern-day events to base this on?"

I'll give you a hint--look at the section titles.

Might as well post section three, since I've got it done.

~3~ “We Hold These Truths to be Self-Evident”

The interior of the Upper Chambers of the Hall of Reckoning, found at the tiptop of Grand Tower of the Library of Lorne is quite the spectacle to behold—crafted by the Ancients themselves, as some say, and certainly worthy of such forthright admiration. Elegant stained-glass images depicting the Creation of the world wrap three of its four equally ornate and decorative walls, which, in turn, are made of the finest stone in all of Hyrule and sport colorful candles and ancient texts of all sorts. The long assembly table has such a classic, lord’s manor style that it creates the appearance that Chambers is actually a glorified dining-hall of sorts, an appearance which generates feelings of comfortableness. Rauru, of course, found this especially pleasing, since it was here, at the Library of Lorne, that he had taken up his rest for the past several hundred years.

And so, in this grandest of settings, Rauru proceeded: “Before time began, before lesser spirits and sentient life even existed, the three golden goddesses descended upon the chaos that we now call Hyrule—Din, the goddess of the flame of power, Nayru, the goddess of the waters of wisdom, and Farore, the goddess of the winds of courage. Din, with her dazzling flaming arms, cultivated the land and wrought the red earth, Nayru, with her wellspring of wisdom, poured order onto the terrestrial sphere and gave the spirit of method and Law to the world, and Farore, with her rich soul, produced all the life forms who would uphold the Law. The three great goddesses, their labors completed, departed for the heavens, and three golden sacred triangles remained at the point where the goddesses left the world. Since then, the sacred triangles have become the basis of our world's providence, and the resting place of the triangles has become the Sacred Realm. He who claims the golden triangles as his own shall have his wildest wishes and deepest desires granted by the gods.

“This is the legend of the mythical Golden Power that has been passed down by the peoples of Hyrule throughout the ages, and of the Sacred Realm in which it takes its rest—the legend documented by the Hylians, the chosen people once capable of hearing the voices of the gods, though, surely, that ability has diminished as the years have passed. It is this Golden Power, in this Sacred Realm, that you all have sought so aggressively since the advent of the world, and it is this Golden Power, in this Sacred Realm, that has been the cause of so much bitterness and bloodshed. I have called this Gathering, in these sacred Chambers, so that I might bestow upon you a knowledge that should hopefully quell this senseless violence and bring peace to all your troubled, aching minds, and to begin a covenant amongst peoples dedicated to preserving this peace.

“Firstly, the knowledge—you all fight amongst yourselves, scrambling for information that might lead you to the Sacred Realm of legend, you all clash swords in hopes that you might prevent your enemies from finding it first, you all attempt to assemble an allegorical conundrum of sorts which you all believe will allow you to take the Golden Power for yourselves. I must say, frankly, that all of your efforts are in vain—no such conundrum exists, for your enemies possess no such information. You may all rest a little easier in knowing that none of you is any closer to finding the gates to the Sacred Realm than any other—knowledge of the location of those gates has never left the Catacombs of the Library of Lorne, the very Library over which I keep watch as Caretaker.

“Therein lies my ‘pretended authority’, Most Ambitious King Valinagh—as Caretaker of Tomes, as Steward of the Library of Lorne, I know the location of the entrance to the Sacred Realm. I am the only living being to know the location, and moreover, I also keep watch over the Temple of Light, situated in the very center of the Sacred Realm—the sanctuary in which the Golden Power of legend lies—so I have even set foot inside it myself. As such, I would say it is hardly pretentious of me, the Most Esteemed Bookkeeper, to—how did you say it?—‘pass such judgment’.”

By this time, each and every member of the conglomeration, Valinagh included, seemed afraid to speak, much less breathe loudly enough that Rauru might perceive it and proceed to chide them for disturbing the peace. All lips were sealed, all eyes had locked attentively on the Ancient Caretaker, and all focus had converged along with them.

“But, alas, a threat to the survival of the Sacred Realm does, indeed, exist, for from the avarice and the bloodthirsty rage that has beset this land throughout the last several generations was borne another Realm, a Realm of Darkness. It, like the Sacred Realm of legend, runs parallel to this world, and it, like the Sacred Realm, contains a source of incredible power. Were one with an evil heart to discover it, he could obtain a mighty force comparable to the power of the gods itself, and with that mighty force at his disposal, he could force open the gates between worlds as he pleases.

“The Triforce, though it was forged with the power of the gods who judge between good and evil, does not hold their power of judgment to exercise such discretion. If one with a righteous heart makes a wish, that wish will lead Hyrule into a golden age of prosperity, but if someone with an evil mind has his wish granted, evil will consume our world. Even though the secret location of the entrance to the Sacred Realm lies only with me, we cannot assume that the power of darkness will remain inside the void of the Evil Realm. We must act now to protect the entrance to the Sacred Realm from the reach of any evil one who might seek to claim that power.

“Which of you will renounce your claims to the Golden Power and unite with me in my endeavors to safeguard it from the clutches of those with wicked hearts? Which of you will forsake your hatred, your jealousy, and your greed in order to strive with me to pave the way for the path of justice and truth? Which of you have the wisdom and courage to carry the light of the future? Whosoever deems themselves worthy of this task, rise with me now.” And, at this, he lifted his arms resplendently above his head and waited for those predestined few who possessed virtue that shone true to respond in kind—their moment of truth was near at hand.

::claps::

This is brilliant! Every chapter was enjoyable, though I must say that the second installment was my favourite - I thought it rather humorous, especially with the brief asides taken into consideration. Characterization is excellent, both regarding characters and the state of things (first chapter), and the dialogue is rich. My only complaint would be that in the third chapter, when Rauru begins his address with the retelling of Hyrule's creation, that that was a touch off-putting, as the tale is so often reiterated that one begins to skim rather than read. And then you have to shake yourself back into full concentration, or risk missing something. But Raura's exhortation, once he had finished the tale, recaptured my attention, so that I am now very eager for another update. Update soon! I shall be waiting to read more. =D

I am very, very glad to hear that you enjoyed it, Selah. You know your critique is very important to me.

Of course the Creation myth gets dull as it is repeated over and over and over again, but it is important to tie it into any prequel to Ocarina, as the entire conflict centers around the Sacred Realm the Goddesses left behind. I tried to condense it--which was easy to do, considering that each installment is fairly short as it is--and I'm glad that I was able to snag your attention again. Unfortunately, my survey course on American History is eating away at my soul, so I won't be able to update this until at least Monday, but I assure you that Section 4 is well underway, and that a plethora of new characters will be introduced. Until then, au revior!


EDIT: Actually, it's entirely possible that I could have Section 4 up by the end of the day.

~ 4 ~ “To Provide New Guards for Their Future Security”

The novitiates rose from their places, one by one, like the misty ghosts that stir with the morning dew, and one by one, in regal procession, they stepped onto the Floor to join him and turned to face the assembly, with faces that clearly housed determination as solid as the stone that shaped the walls of the Grand Tower Hall. They numbered six, and, once Rauru included himself, that brought the total to seven—a sign of good fortune, as he was quick to note. Such could only be the foreshadowing of progress.

They came forward individually, and sat down as one in the seats furnished for them at the foot of the Podium. A Kokiri, a Goron, a Zora, a Sheikah, a Gerudo, and a Hylian—who would have thought that such a collection of diverse groups, groups which had been so violently feuding for hundreds of years, would band together for the greater good? It did Rauru’s ancient heart proud to be able to bear witness to this momentous day. He addressed the valiant volunteers in turn, asking them each for their name and place of origin, starting with the Kokiri.

He had dirty-blonde hair, and had a short and somewhat scrawny build, but these traits were both typical of his childlike race. Despite his delicate figure, his eyes, his posture and his facial features revealed a wealth of ageless wisdom housed within. These qualities displayed themselves even more prominently in the avant-garde sophistication of his speech. “I am called Kiro, the fiddler, and I hail from Korok Haven, one of the trifling Kokiri fringe parishes located along the periphery of the Lost Woods,” he said, bowing neatly as he finished.

The Goron was seated, hands folded over his chest, next to Kiro, and he introduced himself subsequently. The two of them together—the tiny Kokiri and the towering Goron—created quite an amusing juxtaposition. It proved difficult to determine which of them was older, especially considering that most Kokiri do not mature past the age of fourteen, but it was quite obvious that this Goron had seen his fair share of winters. “My name is Darumo-goro, Elder of Valoo-goro, the quarry villa just above the Dodongo’s cavern on Death Mountain,” he said. His speech was rather gruff, but a whiff of refinement still managed to permeate his discourse.

After Darumo spoke, the Zora—an exceedingly astonishing young maiden, much younger than the two who had gone before her—stepped forward and bowed majestically, revealing the tiara glittering atop her head-fin. She did not seem as wise or wizened as the Kokiri and the Goron, but she possessed an introspective, inquisitive air about her that gave off the impression that she was exceptionally knowledgeable for a young woman of her age. When she spoke, her words came soft like cool, flowing water. “I am Ceruto, princess of the Zoras, and I hail from Zora’s Domain, at the source of all streams, Zora’s Fount,” she said somewhat shakily, her fins quivering with apprehension.

The Sheikah—who wore a mask to hide his face, as was typical of his race—seemed to have fallen deep into a trance by the time it was his turn for introduction. His silvery-gray hair betrayed his age, and his refined carriage, in turn, betrayed his noble roots. While he was not dressed for battle as most of the Gerudo, he was clad in a tight bodysuit often associated with the sport of sparring.

He stirred at the sound of Rauru’s command and presented himself accordingly. “I am known as Kasuto, and I am toumoku of Kakariko, the Sheikah village at the foot of Death Mountain. My clan has protected the Royal Family of the Hylia since the end of the Unending Wars almost ten generations ago,” he said. His voice was soft, too, as Ceruto’s had been, but his also carried a weight of paternal conviction that her youthful tone did not share.

When the Gerudo stepped forward, most of the assembly fell silent. She was even more attractive than the Zora princess, were it even possible, and she was certainly far from shy about flaunting her loveliness. While Ceruto had worn a regal and modest gown for the sake of propriety (and perhaps to avoid being taken advantage of by some of the less respectable gentleman), this woman practiced no such modesty. She wore the stereotypical garb of a concubine—the low-cut translucent top (if it could even qualify as one), the loose-fitting silk sequined pant (also see-through), the moon-shaped shoes. None of this surprised anyone—especially not the aforementioned sirs—but it was rather stunning in an altogether different way.

She spoke slowly, yet flamboyantly, in that exotic way unique to ritual priestesses. “I am Selena Milaani, and I am an enchantress from the Colossus across the Haunted Wastes,” she said, as she drew her finger across her own cheek. When she finished, she tossed her vibrant red hair and whirled frivolously about as she returned to her chair.

The last—the Hylian—was certainly not the least of them. She required no introduction—everyone in attendance should have been well aware of who she was already. She was the most recognizable figure in all of Hyrule, and one of the most respected. But, all things notwithstanding, the Exalted Zelda, in all her wisdom and stately majesty, rose from her seat and presented herself to the assembly nonetheless. “I am Zelda Marian Hyrule,” she said, “Princess of the Royal Family of the Hylia. Rauru is my Right Hand, my closest advisor. Everything is exactly as he has proclaimed it. We must stand now against the darkness, or the darkness may conquer us in the future. May the blessing of the gods be upon us always.”

“So,” Rauru whispered said, turning to face the assembly. “These are the brave, the wise, and the true. Let us never forget the oaths we shall take this day. May the blessing of the gods be upon us always, indeed.” And he lifted his eyes to the heavens in silent prayer.

~5~ “He Has Obstructed the Administration of Justice”

The Gathering adjourned not long after the Six who would become the Wise Ones presented themselves—the rest of the delegates could be of no more assistance in these matters. Rauru called for a conference among the Six, which he would accommodate in his private studies after they reconvened in the Hall of Hexes, found at the foot of the Tower of Magicks, at sunset—he suggested that, until then, the Six get to know one another, as they would certainly be spending a great deal of time together. In the meantime, however, he had some important business to attend to in the Temple of Light. The infusion was finally complete, and so it was time to fetch the Artifacts—time to test the wisdom and courage of those who had pledged to their noble cause.

He waited for the delegates to depart, and then started for the back door to the Library without delay. Rain seemed to be looming on the horizon—he stopped to pray that the delegates might have safe passage back to their homes. He also prayed, however good-humoredly, that the emissaries might exercise enough grace that they might not kill one another along the journey. To be honest, he expected it from none of them, save perhaps the Gerudo—if for no other reason because the Gerudo had been the only group among them to carry weapons. Most of the elders had been enthusiastic enough about the chance for unity, and most of their warriors were obedient enough not to challenge the will of their elders, and that was enough of a security for Rauru.

Nevertheless, he thought it safer to travel through the caverns in his descent down Death Mountain than to take the main trail—better to take his leave inconspicuously than to make it an obvious one. Some fool might mistake him for leaving the Library unguarded and make the foolish error of trying to break into the Catacombs to uncover the mystery behind the location to the Sacred Realm, only to fall victim to its ancient protectors. He had had Beamos erected outside each and every door, and Armos planted along each of the halls. And even if they could discover a way to get past his enchanted guards, there was still the matter of the locked door at the end of the labyrinth of tunnels that led to the Library Underground, and he carried the only key to that door in his pocket everywhere he went.

It was about an hour-and-a-half walk from the Library of Lorne to the foot of Death Mountain, where the northern forests of Pol stood. Trickles of sunlight that had escaped through the cloud cover found themselves caught in the tree canopies, leaving the woods nearly pitch-dark. But, of course, Rauru was well-versed in the arts of magic, and so he cast an enchanted firefly to light his way. He knew the Pol Forests by the back of his hand, and it was not long before he reached his destination—a small forest grotto with a single tree upon whose roots a great boulder was standing. The place seemed rather unremarkable until Rauru approached the tree, reached up to grab one of the low-hanging limbs, and gave it a tug. At once the tree lifted its roots out of the ground and picked up the boulder along with them, revealing, underneath it, something altogether extraordinary—a magical portal of unsurpassed splendor, through which a great light poured into the gloom of the forest. On the other side a misty twilight resonated, and, amidst the heavenly vapor, a golden light shone brightly. It could only be the entrance to the Sacred Realm of legend.

The thought had, of course, occurred to Rauru that, now that he had revealed his knowledge of the entrance to the Sacred Realm, someone might take it upon himself to attempt to have him followed there. So, when the Wizzrobe ambushed him as he approached the mystical portal, he was not at all astounded. His magicks burst free in a mighty frenzy, and he whirled about with the vigor of a young man and invoked a spellshield barrier that repelled the Wizzrobe’s magic fire and sent it, full force, back at the fiend who cast it. The Wizzrobe exploded in a flaming blaze, howling in agony, and was no more.

Rauru was no fool—he knew where the Wizzrobes’ allegiance lay. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw, barely visible within the glow of the Wizzrobe’s fire, the Gerudo King fleeing the scene and heading back towards Death Mountain. There was no use in following him.

Again, the last two installments were excellent. Raura's character builds with every mention of him, and I'm excited for the Six described in chapter four, in that I look forward to watching their characters grow. I do wonder where events shall lead, particularly in the light of the final paragraphs of chapter five...

Cheers! ^^

Originally Posted by Selah

Again, the last two installments were excellent. Raura's character builds with every mention of him, and I'm excited for the Six described in chapter four, in that I look forward to watching their characters grow. I do wonder where events shall lead, particularly in the light of the final paragraphs of chapter five...

We shall see, my dear, we shall see. In the meantime--the Wise Ones have important matters to attend to, matters that will certainly be accelerated by the recent progression of events...

~ 6 ~ “We Must, Therefore, Acquiesce in the Necessity”

News of Valinagh’s antics in the Pol Forest delivered itself most expediently to the Wise Ones’ ears—Rauru had made haste to retrieve those trinkets which he had gone for so as to finish the matters at hand as soon as possible. Needless to say, they were absolutely appalled at the Gerudo King’s blatant defiance of both the peace against the Caretakers of old and against their own respective peoples—they were all supposed to be a part of this common goal now. Even Selena was outraged, and she went so far as to say, “I would hardly put it past Valinagh to make a move against the power of darkness in the Realm of Darkness.”

Most of the Wise Ones echoed this sentiment. Rauru was among those who did. The suspicions only made their cause all the more imperative.

After he Inducted the Six, they could return to the Temple of Light, hopefully before Valinagh could make an attempt to infiltrate the entrance to the Realm again. Rauru would have liked to have taken them there immediately, so as to minimize the risk of permeation of the weak magical barrier he had cast over the entrance, but unfortunately the Induction ceremony required that they make use of a room in his study known as the Chamber of Commencement. Within that Chamber, Rauru kept the Staff of Byrna, an ancient relic given to him by a race long gone in an age gone by. He would need it to infuse the Six with the power of the Sages of Wisdom.

But first they would take their Oaths, and pledge their undying loyalty to the grand cause they were about to undertake. These Oaths would form the very foundation of the covenant between peoples and of the constructs they were about to bring forth. They would forever stand as the first institution of Hyrulean unity made by mortal men.

And so Rauru read out the Oaths: “Do ye Wise Ones solemnly swear, on your lives, your honor, and your very souls, to dedicate yourselves utterly to defending the Golden Power from those with evil hearts?”

“We do,” the Wise Ones said.

He continued: “Do ye Wise Ones solemnly swear, on your lives, your honor, and your very souls, to do whatever is necessary to ensure that no one finds his way into the Golden Land, that we might avoid any risk of the Power of Gold falling into misuse?”

“We do,” they echoed.

“Do ye Wise Ones solemnly swear, on your lives, your honor, and your very souls, to keep the power that shall be bestowed upon all of thee in confidence that that power will never be used for ill?”

“We do.”

“And, finally, do ye Wise Ones solemnly swear, on your lives, your honor, and your very souls, to pledge thyselves to vigilant and constant prayer, that the power that shall soon be forged, the blade of evil’s bane, may forever shine with the might to smite any evil that may lay hands on the Triforce of Legend?”

“We do.”

Rauru clasped his hands, and bowed for a moment in prayer. “Then it is done.”

~ 7 ~ “Appealing to the Supreme Judges of the World for the Rectitude of Our Intentions”

While the Sages entertained themselves, exercising their musical talents by performing an old favorite, “The Ballad of the Wind Fish”—Kiro on the fiddle, Darumo on the drums, Ceruto on the harp, Kasuto on the bells, and Selena on the oboe—Rauru found himself thinking back on days long gone.

Byrna had been one of the Seven Ancients of Hyrule—the Immortals who had built the Library of Lorne and looked after it for the past several centuries. Their most important duty had been to protect the entrance to the Sacred Realm and to guard the Ancient Tomes of Lorne. In the years past, however, all of the Ancients had departed Hyrule for other worlds, leaving the world in Rauru’s hands. They were called, respectively—“Somaria the Decisive,” “Byrna the Shrewd,” “Marus the Implicit,” “Hera the Eloquent,” “Pacci the Academic,” “Accios the Insightful,” and, of course, “Rauru the Judicious.” Somaria had been leader of them all, and Rauru her right-hand man, but Byrna’s role among the Ancient Ones had never really spelled itself out, at least not officially.

Thinking back, however, Rauru could best describe him as the comic of the group (which was, perhaps, reflected in his designation as ‘the Shrewd’)—Byrna was always telling wild and ridiculous tales and spreading scandal regarding the gods. He poked fun at Nautis—Nayru’s husband, the god of water—and the tidal surges caused by his sacred flatulencies, as well as at the sand goddess, Oasis, and her numerous extramarital affairs. Everyone took great delight in his stories, even the gods about whom they were weaved. Cyclos, one of the twin gods of wind, loved his stories so much that he gave Byrna the power of wind—which, of course, Byrna was quick to employ to cause even more mischief. Ol’ Byrna was also a talented composer, and he and the other three musicians—Somaria, Pacci, and Hera—would perform several pleasant little pieces across the Hyrulean countryside and in the major conurbations, much as Kiro and Ceruto were doing now. O, how Rauru missed his old friend—how he missed all of them, really.

Luckily they had left him many an artifact before they had departed from the world—magical staves and musical instruments and mystical cloaks and other such articles—so he had plenty of things to remember them by (the instruments, specifically, were currently in use, much to his nostalgic delight, by his new acquaintances). Now it was the time to put some of them to good use.

He proceeded to Induct them in the order they had introduced themselves. “Ah, Kiro the fiddler,” he said to Kiro, handing him a green medallion that bore the crest of Pacci. “I bequeath upon you this medallion—the Forest Medallion. Within it lies the power of the Ancient One, Pacci. Stand in the circle, and I shall use the Staff of Byrna’s power to infuse that power within you.” Rauru tapped the floor twice with the Staff of Byrna, and a summoning circle appeared in the center of the room, the shape of the Triforce of Legend in the center, and six smaller circles lining the outside, each one bearing the crest of one of the Ancients. Rauru was standing on one of the smaller circles—the one bearing his mark—and he directed Kiro into one just beside him—one that bore the symbol that appeared on the medallion he now held.

“O Pacci, hear my summons,” Rauru recited. “Let your power inhabit this most esteemed Sage, so that he may become one with your wisdom!” Rauru raised the Staff ceremoniously above his head, and a green light emerged from it, enveloping Kiro, and the Kokiri Sage went into what seemed to be a deep trance. His entire body went perfectly stiff yet appeared to be limp at the same time, as though he were hanging in stasis, and his eyes opened wide, revealing a bright green glow the same hue as the light that now consumed him. He had become comatose, like a mannequin hanging by a precarious thread of antediluvian energy. The stream of energy rippled over him like water, twinkled like firelight, and emanated the coldness of a winter wind.

Darumo was obviously not pleased with the prospect of what seemed like possession by the spirits of the Immortals, and so he loudly voiced his disapproval: “What madness!—do you expect me to submit to this, Caretaker Rauru?!”

But before he could outburst any further, Princess Zelda stepped forward and rested her hand reassuringly on the Goron’s forearm. “Do not be troubled, mighty Darumo,” she said softly. “Rauru will do neither you nor your soul any harm. The power of the Ancients can only damage those with evil minds—if you have a just heart, you have nothing to fear.”

He scowled. “I still do not like it.”

“But you shall comply with it?” Zelda pleaded.

He frowned even deeper, and the wrinkles of age crossed his crusted Goron features like cracks on a weathered boulder after it has tumbled down a steep mountain cliff. “Yes, I shall comply.” He stepped reluctantly toward Rauru and the summoning circle, who granted him a shiny red medallion, the same size and shape as the last, bearing the crest of Marus.

“O Darumo, the Elder of Valoo, I bequeath upon you this medallion—the Fire Medallion. Within it lies the power of the Ancient One, Marus. Stand in the circle, Wise One, and I shall use the Staff of Byrna to infuse that power within you.”

Darumo stepped into the circle bearing the symbol of Marus, and Rauru worked his magic again, calling upon the spirit of Marus to inhabit Darumo’s soul and bestow unto him the power of the Sage of Fire. Ceruto received the medallion of Hera and the power of the Sage of Water, and Kasuto obtained the medallion of Byrna, and Selena, in turn, the medallion of Accios. The only power that remained was that of Somaria herself—but there was no medallion in which that power dwelt nor was there a spot for Princess Zelda in the circle of Sages.

“And what power hath been left for me, O Wise Rauru?” Zelda asked.

“O Fair Child,” Rauru replied. “Are you so oblivious to the power that already dwells inside of you? Somaria’s blessing has forever been upon your family, Dear One. The destiny of headship of the Sages does not lie with me, but with you. All that you require is the most sacred treasure of Somaria—the instrument which she played in the centuries past to appease the gods and to entertain the peoples of the world—the Ocarina of Time.” He reached into his robes and produced a small blue ocarina. It looked quite unremarkable, of course, but the wise Princess had learned long ago not to judge by appearances.

Rauru then brandished an additional object from beneath his habit—a conductor’s baton that looked to have been the one used by the legendary Byrna himself. “Byrna wrote a melody of awakening that he hoped would one day be used to unite the people after the Ancients left the world,” he explained. “Allow me to conduct you, Majesty, so that these Wise Ones may be awakened to their power and their purpose.”

He lifted the baton, and she played. Though she had never laid hands on a musical instrument in her entire life, the magic of Byrna’s conducting baton coaxed the notes out of her, and they flowed beautifully from her. To her surprise, the other Sages, in what seemed to be a trance, approached the instruments they had used earlier and began to play along with her—the entire Library, it seemed, echoed with their recital. The Five came out of their stupors all at once, mid-measure at that, and went on playing their hearts out, none of them really knowing why he or she was playing, but none of them really caring to stop.

They played through the melody in its entirety, and, by the end, each one of them could feel the power of the Ancients brimming inside of them, flowing between them every which way, and their fellowship was, finally, fully and completely established. No longer were they merely a collection of new and newly-christened friends united in one common purpose—they were brothers and sisters, truly, down to the very cores of their beings, down to the very life that ran in their blood.

When they finished, Rauru brought his hands to his sides with the poise and grace of a maestro, and, though there was no one watching their performance, the very walls of the Library itself seemed to echo with deafening applause.

(Link: Song of Awakening)
Thanks to The Hylia for hosting the Zelda soundtracks. All Music © 2003-2006 Nintendo.

~ 8 ~ “In a Realm Beyond Sight, the Sky Shines Gold, not Blue”

“My goodness!” Ceruto exclaimed as she stretched her arm into one of the watery founts of light that poured from the sky—the golden sky, high above the dark void of the Chamber—and felt the tingling of its warmth flow over her. “’Tis incredible!”

Rauru let out a chuckle and placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “Well, of course, Child—did you expect anything less of the Sacred Realm of Legend?” They had not come to be there by the conventional route—otherwise it might have been obvious to them where they were—the Lyric of Awakening had borne them hence. When they finished the song, when the last echoing chord faded, they faded away—out of sight and out of mind—into the Realm, where they found themselves standing in their corresponding positions within the Chamber of Sages, which was identical to the summoning circle in which they had stood back in the Library of Lorne. “Welcome, dear friends, to the Chamber of Sages, inside the Temple of Light.”

None of them uttered a word for a long while after that—they were much too busy marveling at the infrastructure of the Temple—not that Rauru could blame them, of course, since, were he in their position, he would likely have reacted in the same manner. Kiro was now standing beside Ceruto in the center of the room, staring up into the endless extension of space, of the airless atmosphere, full of clouds without form and stars without light. They cast one another a sideways glance, and smiled widely, and she took his arm and placed her head on his shoulder, and he leaned his head against hers. Kasuto closed his eyes meditatively, ran his fingers through the mat of hair under the cloth that masked his face, and went into deep thought about nothing in particular, as he tended to do in times of wonderment. Daurmo towered behind them, his brawny arms folded across his chest, as they often were, and stared out into the horizonless beyond. There were mountains here, but they were not the same as the mountains he knew—these mountains were alive, these mountains were singing. Selena and Zelda joined in along with them, allowing the voices of the spirits of the Realm to carry them away to a passionate, yet equally peaceful repose. Their magicks sang with them, lifting their voices higher and louder than they ever could have endeavored to achieve unaided.

At the resounding of their lovely voices, the Sacred Triangles themselves ascended from their resting place beneath the Temple turret and echoed the otherworldly hymn. Kiro and Ceruto emerged from their amorous daze as the Triforce passed overhead, Darumo unfolded his arms, and Kasuto even opened his eyes to cast a glance skyward. “Ne’er in all my life did I imagine I would see such sights and hear such sounds as I have seen and heard this day,” the Sheikah said. “How inspiring—that two tender souls would discover love, that an old mountain man would discover a new mountain song, and that two attractive young ladies would join the heavens themselves in their chorus.”

“Now you know what it is we strive to protect,” Rauru said.

“And now I know how important it is that we must protect it.”

(Link: Chamber of the Sages)
Thanks to The Hylia for hosting the Zelda soundtracks. All Music © 1998-2006 Nintendo.

~ 9 ~ “O, Love!–How Thou Hath Stricken My Heart and Stolen My Soul!”

Amidst the highest branches of the tallest tree in the vicinity of the small meadow in Pol Forest where the entrance to the Sacred Realm rested sat Kiro, whose turn it was to take watch over the door. As usual, he had leaned back against the trunk and was playing his fiddle, staring up at the sky, and thinking deeply about gods-knew-what. Tonight the object of his attentions (not to mention his undying affections) happened to be Ceruto. He ached so excruciatingly to find himself within her presence again—being around her was intoxicating, like inhaling the smoke of a forest mystic’s herbs (which reminded him—he needed to pay the Skull Kid a visit before the oldie took another trip back to the portal).

Without even realizing it, he began to let his heart sing—to let the words fly out of him like bees from their hive. It was a tune of his own making, for none of the sonnets, serenades or ballads ever written by the hands of men could possibly express that which pounded against the walls of his heart and squeezed his chest cavity like a sponge. Not even his own words could do this happy agony—this not-quite-able-to-be-requited love—due justice, much as he might try, but he tried regardless:

“’My word!’ cried the sailor’s daughter,
When she found me on the beachside;
Prostrate, unforgiving worship
Carried in by the bloody tide.
Then I woke, I coughed, I stuttered
‘Fetch me a cloak so I can hide.
Hide, hide from the tragedy
And wait for the sun!’

“She asked me how I got here
‘I tried to crew a ship alone.’
She said, ‘No wonder you washed up here,
Why, good sir, why did you postpone
Good sense for nonsense; your logic, sir, makes no sense.’
‘Mademoiselle, do you truly not know?
I fell in love, but I had to let go.’

“O Love—thou hath Murdered me!
Broken me and left me here to rot
I hope you’re happy now, Love
But somehow I’m convinced you’re not.
Love, this is my testimony,
Better listen closely ‘fore I drop dead
On this forsaken beachhead in arms that are not yours
Come back to me, Love! I don’t want anything
But sweet words and joy-birds and amity and intimacy
Love!—tell me you need me!
Thou hath stricken my heart and stolen my soul!”

But, alas, he and she could almost certainly not be—they had their newfound duties to attend to, and, at least for now, those duties did not include romance. There lay a long, tough road ahead of them, and they would travel it together with their newfound friends, but amorous love would only distract them from their path. He could show her he cared without courting her, and, much as he did not like that it was so, that would have to be enough.

Rauru had commissioned them to begin building a magnificent temple to house the entrance to the Sacred Realm—a task which would certainly take years to accomplish—while he made arrangements to guard the door itself. In the meantime, they would have to protect the entrance, for Valinagh would almost certainly make another move against it if they left it unguarded. Once Rauru finished his preparations, he would confront Valinagh directly and put an end to the Thief King’s antics.

And once that was done, then maybe—just maybe—he could finally allow his love to fully blossom. Damn, he needed to find that Skull Kid soon—all this stress weighed on him terribly.

~ 10 ~ “Pol’s Voices’ Lament”

The Voices of Pol Forest came out to sing at night, which was a fact that greatly pleased Princess Ceruto. She had heard remarkable things about the Pol’s Voices, and finally being able to experience their performance pleasantly revealed to her what she already expected—the stories hardly did the Voices any justice. Theirs was a sad song, even among nocturnal creatures—so Ceruto strove to determine why.

It didn’t take long. She had the gift of tongues and the good sense not to think herself crazy. The Voices sang of a time before living creatures had ears, when song and voice were unnecessary, when pure instinct was sufficient enough to ensure survival. They had been the first to evolve ears, the first creatures to introduce themselves to sound, but they had not been able to adapt as other species did. Music was deadly to them; or, rather, the magic of music combined with the magic that eventually found itself attached to the songs themselves. It had started with the Hylians, they said, with their Oracles.

Oracles? Ceruto thought. She had never heard of any such thing before—she supposed she had better listen. The Oracles were the first of the Hylians to hear the voices of the gods—the ancestors of the members of the group now known as the Hylian Royal Family. It was the Oracles who first received the legends and lore of the Sacred Land and the Golden Power, and the Oracles who first received magical powers from the Ancients. They had experimented so much with their magicks that they extended to everything they touched, everything they saw, and, most notably, everything they made as well. Music fell under this category. It, too, received the magic. Now the sound of music was too powerful for their ultra-sensitive ears, and they died if they were subject to it.

They had given up being able to hear their own voices for the sake of maintaining the ability to sing—they sang at a register their ears could not perceive—and it saddened them that they had could no longer enjoy the beauty they had discovered.

Ceruto could empathize; she, too, had discovered a thing of beauty in her life, and she was all too afraid that she, too, would lose it. Or him, rather. Yet she did not join in their song, for, of course, had she done so she would have killed them, but she listened closely to their tune and the words that they spoke, but could not hear.