A Forgotten Legend: The Tears of Salvation

For those of you who like to read, this is going to be a really great epic. I'd like no timeline complaints please, because this story is a lot sadder then it starts out as.

"The forgotten legend of a man chosen by fate, who came to lose all that was precious to him."

A Forgotten Legend: The Tears of Salvation

Chapter One- The Festival of Time

Once there was a great hero. A hero that defied the odds and rescued the land from the evil Ganon, using the power of the Medallions and of the people. The man with the green tunic, who showered the land with light and happiness. Then, he left on a journey, separating him from the attributes that made him a hero, to find a friend with whom he had separated in fulfilling his destiny. None had ever learned what happened to the great Hero of Time, so, in his honor, the Festival of Time was held each year in honor of the Hero. In Hyrule Market each year, the whole of the land’s people gathered to celebrate their freedom thanks to his great sacrifice. The Zora, Gorons, Deku, even the Gerudu all-

“Jarred!”

Jarred’s head was jolted from his daydream by Keean, the Bombchu Shop owner. Striking him hard on the head with his stick, he exclaimed, “If you’re going to earn your keep in my shop I suggest you get working!” Jarred nodded and reluctantly left the alley to search for more customers. The radiant sun streamed out on the market as Jarred made his way out, clouding his eyes from the brightness. His dark, brown hair shined bright in the morning sun. His broad shoulders carried the sandwich sign he had been forced to wear to attract customers into the alley. His green tunic stood out in the crowd as he walked among the different people there, eagerly buying souvenirs stocks from the stands that crowded the marketplace. Today was the seventh Festival of Time, and was rumored by the people to be prepared better than all six others combined.

“This is humiliating,” he complained to no one. “I’m starting to regret even coming to this town.” Jarred, the eighteen-year-old man, forced to carry around a sign like some beggar child, which of course he had been. Abandoned at eight by his foster parents, Jarred had no idea who his parents had been, as they died during the years of Ganon’s tyrannical rule. He had dragged himself across many obstacles to come here, the home of kings, and all he had to show for it was a board that proclaimed, “Come one, Come all to the Bombchu Shop!” across his chest. Stupid.

Of course, he had Keean to thank for his life, as he was the only one who would take him in, but still wished the man wouldn’t humiliate him like this. Pausing from his dismal walk, he trudged over to the ale stand Kent the bartender had set up near the palace entrance. “Kent,” he called to the barkeep. “A large ale please.”

Kent obliged, pouring out the cool yellow-brown drink that helped Jarred get through the day into one of the many mugs behind his counter. He wasn’t an alcoholic, but loved the taste of the stuff. Sitting down on a wooden chair Kent had set up, he peered through the crowd to see if there was anyone here interesting. “Keep dreaming, Jarred,” Kent told him, wiping a mug with his wipe in his wrinkled hands, the sun gleaming off his bald head. “No one’s looking for a beggar child like you.”

Kent’s words hurt Jarred, but he knew deep down they were true. His parents weren’t alive, as much as he wished it otherwise, just as sure as Kent was old, and no one here would ever care about his troubles. “When’s the princess turning up?” he asked dryly, turning the conversation to other matters, sipping the ale in his mug.

“I believe the courtyard is supposed to open to everyone at two,” Kent responded. “Get going, now, Jarred. You still have people waiting to see your pretty sign.” And with a s******, he pointed to the people looking at Jarred, and turned his attention to the other customers lounging near him.

“Keep the change barfly,” Jarred responded, and left the stand before Kent could bill him for the ale. He continued his walk around the market, avoiding the eyes of questioning onlookers, gesturing at the sign. Stopping only in the center to watch the two weirdoes dance by the well, twirling without stop. How can they dance there like that every day? he thought to himself, then turned away, passing through the tourists, to return to the dark alley. Pausing to pet Trooper, the neighbor’s pet, behind the ears, he noticed the old woman, Blair, cleaning out her house, cluttering the streets with dust and junk. “Hey,” he cried to her. “Just because you don’t want your mess doesn’t mean the rest of us do.”

The woman turned, her thin, lithe body covered in the drab, green dress that was her only attire. “You think this is funny?” she asked, turning her old, green eyes at him. “I don’t have room for this anymore. I barely have enough to feed Trooper.”

Jarred looked down, ashamed for jeering at her. “I’m sorry, Blair.” he said. “I know you have little room for a dog like this.” The gesture Jarred made was enough. Trooper was territorial, though small, and needed constant attention. Waving goodbye to the old woman and Trooper, he turned and walked into his own home.

The permanent smell of gunpowder clung to the shop’s walls, yet smelled like home to Jarred. He walked through the shop part of the house, to his and Keean’s living quarters. “Jarred is that you?” came Keean’s voice in the back. “Come back here, I need your help with these boxes. The Gorons ordered much more than I had expected.”

Laughing to himself, Jarred ran over to help Keean move the boxes, all marked with a golden Bombchu. Balding and skinny, Keean was never great at heavy lifting. The task of strongman was left up to Jarred. “Keean, you know you cannot lift this much. Why do you try to hide your feeble strength?”

“Young man,” he answered, “I remember a time when you could not lift ten Bombchu, and this was up to me.” Jarred merely laughed as he balanced all five boxes in his hands, not remembering a time he was unable to perform such feats of strength.

Jarred responded, “Keean, I love you dearly, as a father almost, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be a perfect son!” Both laughed at the joke, then Keean turned to return to the customer area, to wait for more orders. “Keean,” Jarred said as he left. “We are going to the Festival, right?”

The Bombchu shop owner turned around, with a face that looked shocked at the thought of missing work time. Then the shocked look broke into a huge grin. “Of course we are,” said Keean smiling. “You know, sometimes I think I work you so hard your brain has been affected. You know I love the festival. When you are done here, get ready and we will go to the courtyard.” Chuckling, he saw Jarred move with great haste to finish his work. Returning to the shop’s front, he wondered if he had any chance at the strongman competition.

The courtyard was beautiful.

Everywhere, banners were streaming in the Hero of Time’s name. The hundreds of games that adorned the site were dazzling to the people, shooting bottles of Lon Lon Milk, pining the tail on the horse, and of course, the tests of strength. Kent, Keean, and Jarred all decided to entered in their own little tournament to see who could win the most competitions. Jarred walked up to the milk bottle game, determined to impress the red head working at the booth. Her blue eyes enchanted men of all ages to come pit their marksmanship against hers, and whoever won received a kiss. So far, however, no one had won.

“You want to play?” she asked Jarred, already sizing up what kind of challenger he’d be.

“Yes, pretty lady, I would,” Jarred said with a grin, leaning over the small counter towards her.

“Very well,” she said, making every impression that she had not heard his remark. “We play three turns. You have two shots to destroy the pyramid in the back, I have one. If you win your prize is a kiss.” Jarred grunted in agreement, allowing the girl to go first. The pyramid of bottles was made up of six empty Lon Lon Milk bottles. With careful aim, she threw a small, red ball in her hand at the targets, smashing them all in one sweep. A small audience gathered around them to cheer for the girl. Among them were Kent and Keean.

“You’re supposed to clap for me, dummies,” he hissed in their direction as the redhead girl set up the bottles for his turn.

Kent merely shrugged, saying, “We’ve got to go with the lady. It’s only gentlemanlike.” And was satisfied as Jarred turned around to the stand for his turn, seething with annoyance.

The six bottles were lined up again, waiting for the ball the girl had placed in his hand. Taking careful aim, he sent the ball soaring straight through, smashing the bottles just as the girl had done. The crowd cheered and the girl looked surprised as she set up the pins for the next round. When she finished, ten pins stood waiting instead of the six.

With great discipline, the girl took aim once again, and sent the ball sprawling through the bottles, but was only able to get nine. With a grunt of anger, she strolled back into the stand to set up for Jared’s turn.

Jarred took the ball from her and sent seven of the ten crashing to the ground for his first strike, then nailed two more on the second one. “You’ve only got one turn left,” Keean laughed, pointing at him, trying to make him loose his focus. Jarred knew this, he was about to lose, and only had one turn left to win.

The girl rose for the third time, stacking up fifteen bottles in the pyramid. Taking her pace by Jarred, she took aim and shot ten of the bottles, leaving the others stranded on the table. Cursing under her breath, she leaped over the counter and set up the bottles for Jarred.

“This is my kind of woman,” Jarred said to himself, catching the ball as it was thrown at him by the redhead. “I need to hit twelve to win,” he thought to himself. Taking aim, he struck the bottles in the lower middle. Ten fell instantly, leaving three wobbling, mocking him by teetering on the table. Then they fell, securing the win for Jarred. The crowd cheered Jarred on as he went up to the girl to receive his prize. The girl, grumbling, came up to him, preparing Jared, then…

SMACK.

The hand went straight up to Jarred’s cheek, sending him into unexpected pain. Grasping his cheek, he stared at the redhead, who face had come up to his ear, and whispered, “Call me pretty lady again, and you’ll be sorry.” Then she strolled back into her booth, not bothering to look back.

While Keean and Kent doubled over with laughter, Jarred looked up at the sign above her, which proclaimed, “Beat Malon in bottle smashing and win a Kiss!!” “Malon, huh?” thought Jarred, rushing towards Kent and Keean, who were on their way to the strength booth. “I’ll remember that.”

“You’re not serious about competing, are you,” Jarred asked Keean, who went over to stand in the entrance line.

Peering over the man in front of him, Keean surveyed the strong men who had been there before him, many of whom were training to pass the time, lifting weights that ranged into the triple digits. “Yes, I am,” Keean said, despite the fact that he knew he had no chance. He saw the big Jarred move up next to him.

“Well then, count me in,” Jarred said. “We’ll enter the doubles competition.” Jarred saw his adopted father gleam up at him as the line thinned, drawing nearer and nearer to the sign up desk. The fat man diligently taking all the contestants numbers was a man named Roget. He sat behind the desk with his clipboard taking names and entry fee. Jarred noticed Keean pull out ten rupees for their entry fee. Roget barely looked up from the clipboard as he took their names and assigned them.

“You’re in the fifth match gentlemen,” Roget muttered, handing the two their tags.

“Gentlemen?” laughed Kent, hobbling up to them. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Shut up,” the two answered together.

There were only five matches in the preliminaries, most of the teams scared off by the big men. Several of the teams ran off and still others had to be escorted out in stretchers. Keean and Jarred prepared to enter their first fight.

Two of the enormous people they had seen before were to be their opponents, both as strong as an ox, and as dumb as a pig. Keean stepped nervously into the ring and waited for his death. The bell sounded.

The smaller one rushed Jarred while the other ran at Keean. Stepping nimbly out of his reach, the giant fell while in mid-swing of a punch. He boldly raised himself up, promising that it would never happen again.

But it did. While Jarred was busy delivering punches to one’s head, Keean tripped the brute attacking him again and again. Until the giant fell on a rock and laid there. Soon after, the other fell, and Keean and Jarred advanced to the second, and finally, the championship round.

Unlike their predecessors, these men resembled Gorons in strength and size, while they bore like Zoras in grace and movement. Kent cheered for Keean, while begging them to teach Jarred a lesson he’d never forget. Before they began, Jarred made sure to toss a rock in Kent’s direction.

But the battle was as short lived as the last. None of the foes could beat Keean’s wit, while neither was able to match Jarred for strength. Before Jarred had finished sizing up the opponent that had chose him, Keean’s was already knocked out. With a grin, Jarred took off, kicking the one hard in the gut, sinking in deep.

“H-How did you do that?” he asked, a touch of shakiness filling his voice.

“Easy,” Jarred said, moving up to him before he could make any movements. “Lift Bombchu boxes for a few years, you’ll get really strong.” Then punched the man in the chest, causing him to crumple to the ground unconscious like his friend. Looking up, he surveyed the crowd, half wondering if the redhead Malon was watching him. Then, after a few moments, resigned himself to go see the Princess Zelda’s address with Kent and Keean, promising to enter and defend his title next year.

It would be the last time he, and any of his friends, saw peace again for a long time.

Very very nice story you've got going here. I absolutely adore your style and dialogue. Here are some parts I particularly enjoyed:

“I remember a time when you could not lift ten Bombchu, and this was up to me.”

The crowd cheered Jarred on as he went up to the girl to receive his prize. The girl, grumbling, came up to him, preparing Jared, then…

SMACK.

The hand went straight up to Jarred’s cheek, sending him into unexpected pain. Grasping his cheek, he stared at the redhead, who face had come up to his ear, and whispered, “Call me pretty lady again, and you’ll be sorry.” Then she strolled back into her booth, not bothering to look back.

While Keean and Kent doubled over with laughter, Jarred looked up at the sign above her, which proclaimed, “Beat Malon in bottle smashing and win a Kiss!!” “Malon, huh?” thought Jarred, rushing towards Kent and Keean, who were on their way to the strength booth. “I’ll remember that.”

Very nice. Very nice indeed. There is however, one thing that REALLY bothers me.

In the very last sentence, you wrote:

It would be the last time he, and any of his friends, saw peace again for a long time.

I think it would make more sense and get across the emotion you wanted that closing statement to have if you rewrote it like this:

It would be the last time that he, or any of his friends for that matter, saw peace again for a long time.

(Changes in red.)

But, overall, very good, and I can't wait for more. If you haven't already, check out my epic fanfiction--there's a link in my signature. Happy writing!

~ AleX

It seems really cool though it hasn't really started yet. It was well written and nice to see a story not immeadiately jump into the plot and action. You seem to be taking your time with the story and not rushing things which means there will be plenty to enjoy. I'd like to see more of this.

Keep up the good work.

Thanks guys, but I'll keep the first chapter as it is. Helps what I need though, and I love constructive critisism. Now enjoy chapter two, in which the action is shifted up a notch.

Chapter Two- The Rebirth of Evil

Jarred, Kent, and Keean walked up towards the gates that led to the castle where the princess always made her festival address. They moved with a few people up the dusty road, surrounded by cliffs, when suddenly they came to a huge gathering at the gates.

“Let us in jerk!” cried one man in the group. They were speaking to a royal guard who seemed unwilling to allow them entrance. The guard’s armor gleamed in the bright sunlight as he held up a bag to them.

“And I told you, pay up,” he shouted into the crowd, making sure that everyone was aware of the sword that was hanging on his belt. “Price of admission is ten rupees per person.”

“Since when was that a rule?” asked a woman in the front. “We’ve never had to pay before to see the princess!”

“Since I decided,” the guard answered sneering. “Now pay up!”

“What’s going on?” Jarred asked one of the crowd members.

“That new guard won’t let anyone in,” she muttered, tossing her long, blond hair in an indifferent manner. But Jarred could tell she wanted to get in badly.

“Hey Jarred,” Kent chuckled, as though he was saying the funniest thing in the world. “Why don’t you, the mighty and proud Jarred, stop that guard and let us in?” He and Keean doubled over in laughter.

“Alright, I will,” said Jarred and, without waiting for their sarcasm, began to push his way through the crowd. It wasn’t an easy task, of course, since the crowd was so large Jarred could barely see the gates from where he was. But soon, as he pushed and pulled through the people, their large white shape began to take form. They were vast and enormous, at least thirty feet high, and in between sat the massive iron gates that the guard has so wrongly closed to the public. Moving through the herd of being, dodging a Goron and passing almost through a group of Zora, he managed to finally get a clear view of the guard, who was sneering and insulting the masses.

“What are you doing?” he asked the dark man, who was wearing the green tunic.

“I was going to ask you that,” Jarred muttered, moving closer to him. “We’re here to see the princess, not you ugly.” He smirked as the insult found its mark. The crowd jeered the guard.

“How dare you, you insolent peasant!” he breathed, drawing his sword.

“What’s that make you?” Jarred countered, moving up, unafraid of the sword.

“What does that mean?”

“You stupid fool. The only difference between us and you is that you wear shiny armor and think you’re someone because of it,” Jarred retorted. “Now, you have two choices: you can let us in and live, or we could just as easily rush you as a mob. What’re you going to do loser?”

“How dare you threaten one of the palace guards?” the guard raged, attacking without thinking with his sword. Jarred smiled calmly, ducking under the incoming blade, and landing a solid punch that completely decked the guard. As he stood there, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach in agony, the other guards had begun to take notice of what Jarred was doing.

“What do you think you are doing here?” asked one, who was obviously the leader from the gold ribbons on his shoulders.

“Breaking in your rookie,” Jarred shrugged, turning towards them. “You guys seem smarter than that man was, because you're questioning me through iron bars, so I’d advise you all never to charge people to see Zelda again.”

The guards laughed. The leader answered, “We do what we please, for we’re the greatest fighters in the land. And you should address the princess in her royal title, commoner.”

Jarred was getting angry now, he could feel it in his bones. Why are people like this charged with the princess’ safety? he thought in annoyance, expressing his anger physically. Stepping boldly forward, he grasped the bars in his hands and, with great physical strength, pulled open the barred gates with his bare hands. Cheers for him ensued, as the energetic crowd rushed in to see the princess’ royal speech, hoping they weren’t too late. Jarred began to follow suit, but was stopped by the guards, pulled so close to them he could smell the nauseous breath.

“Hold it,” the leader sneered, “you’re coming with us.” Without waiting for an answer, the large number of guards took him down below, to the dungeons.

Away from the dank, smelly dungeon that Jarred was currently inhabiting, Keean and Kent were worming their way through the crowds. People had been waiting days to see the princess’ royal speech. Indeed, some considered it to be the most anticipated event in the year.

The two were looking up to the small white balcony from where the princess Zelda usually frequented when addressing the masses on the Festival of Time. The balcony was suspended twenty feet above the moat, overlooking the palace’s wonderful grasslands and courtyard. Though Kent’s eyes were old, there was no doubt in his mind he could easily see the town market from it. In the distance, Keean could see Blair making her way through the crowds, and waved her to join them.

“Hello, everyone,” she said cheerfully, her dusty red hair flying everywhere from the humidity. “I had to leave Trooper at home, you know how much he gets excited.”

“Yes Blair,” Keean answered, remembering how his right buttocks had never quite been the same since Trooper had gotten them two years prior.

Blair smiled and looked around, trying to spot Jarred in the crowd. “Where’s your apprentice, Keean? Did he not chose to come?”

“Oh, he came,” Kent replied, massaging his bald head, looking for some women. “He opened the gates for us, so now he’s stuck in a cell while we see the princess-oh!” Kent felt a sudden jerk under his feet.

“What’s wrong Kent?” teased Blair, waiting for Zelda to start her speech. “Your body finally catch up to your ego?” She chuckled while Keean roared in laughter.

“Shut up,” he muttered, indicating to the balcony.

The trumpets were beginning to sound, and soon, Princess Zelda was looking down upon her subjects cheering for her, so rarely did they see her nowadays. The king had wished only he best for her, and she was vastly protected from Ganon’s evil minions. Ganon, though destroyed, was still very dangerous to the people. This did not affect her beauty, much to Kent’s pleasure.

Wearing a stunning pink silk dress, she appeared as beautiful as a goddess. Her long golden hair glowed through the light of the day, outshining the sun itself. All who were there were stunned by her amazing appearance.

Those who were not there, namely Jarred, were sitting in a small dingy cell, lying on a filthy cot, and could only listen through the bars as Zelda’s sweet voice carried over to him. Curse Kent and Keean, he thought silently, I forgot why I still stay with those mo- huh? He heard the princess’ voice coming through his cell bars. Sitting up from the cot he was lying on, he strained up to have a better look. He felt a small rumbling under his feet, but took little notice of it.

The princess looked out amongst her subjects, so happy that they came. Spreading her arms, she carefully recited the speech she said at every Festival. “Welcome citizens of Hyrule,” she shouted to the applauding audience. “Today we come together to celebrate our land’s liberation from the evil Ganon.” The crowd shouted its approval, cursing Ganon. Smiling, the princess continued, “We give thanks on the seventh year of our freedom to the Hero of Time, who none have seen for all these years.” She felt a tear coming to her face, but she ignored it. “We thank you, Hero, and pray for your safety each day of our lives!” The crowd roared in approval, many with tears coming to their cheeks, when it began.

It had started low, Jarred and Kent had both felt it. A small jerk under their feet, that was all. But a loud rumbling had began under them as the plains jerked them from their feet, and they all fell to the ground. Jarred was forced back into his cot by the force that had no master but itself.

Kent looked to the right and saw, to his horror, that a small crack was being formed in the earth under Blair. “Blair, get away from that thing!” he shouted, pointing to the crack that was growing larger beneath her feet. Before she could move, it expanded, and she fell in screaming in shock. Keean and Kent cried out her name, but there was no answer. They peered down into the gap in the earth to see that something was coming back out.

“Run!” Keean bellowed to the crowd, and dashed away from the hole, and whatever it was coming out. A black hand was clawing through the very earth, its owner’s voice screaming in rage. The hand was followed by deadly blades that grew from its forearms and elbows. Ten feet tall, the monster stood before them, watching them run away with its glaring yellow eyes.

Lord Ganon had risen again.

Unaware, Jarred was only able to guess that something terrible had happened, still trapped in his cell. He battered the bars with his awesome strength, desperate to get out, until he heard a crunching noise, as the metal gave way to let him out. Snatching a sword from a nearby guard table, he followed the stairs up to the courtyard.

Running up, he was unaware of the gruesome sight that awaited his eyes. The Lord Ganon had indeed been awakened from his eternal slumber. Freed and once again loose upon the world, dark creatures were jumping out of the holes in the earth to join him. Dark imps, demons, nothing was felt behind as the demonic beasts made their presence known in this world. Men and women were slaughtered where they stood, like common animals, their insides dripping out of them as their children cried for them, their parents, before the demons began on the young ones. Nothing was being spared, Ganon was seeing to the utter destruction of the Castle.

A burning rage erupted in Jarred’s inside, turning all his thoughts to hate and rage, so focused was he. He saw them, the bodies, many he’d known in the town as a young boy. They do not deserve such a fate, he thought angrily, turning red. His anger seemed to seethe from him as he ran into battle, bellowing his hate for these creatures. If they treat my people with such indifference, I’ll treat them with the same contempt.

A dozen fell from his first swing,. His enormous arms seemed to batter them away as he swept among them, slicing them into ribbons with the sword, soon covered in black blood. But he did not stop, he would not rest until they paid for what they had done to the people, the children.

“HOW DARE YOU!!!” he roared through the crowd, helping those who were still alive to escape. Glancing around in the chaos he was causing, he could not find Kent, Blair, or Keean in the crowds. But then, he spotted the bladed monster that was heading for the princess’ tower. Snatching up a second sword from a fallen enemy, he dashed up to block the creature’s way. “That will be far enough,” he said bravely to the beast, standing in the way of it and the front doors.

The monster, after a few seconds, emitted a loud rumbling from deep inside itself. It was laughing at him, amazed that someone in this place would dare to challenge him. I a dark voice that seemed to speak the language of death, he answered, “Who are you to stop me?” Ganon said grinning, flexing his huge teeth.

“Jarred, the Bombchu apprentice,” the young man answered, still not moving.

“Indeed Jarred,” Ganon smirked, “and what is it you wish me to stop doing? I see nothing wrong here.”

“Leave this place now, evildoer, and take your beasts with you.”

Ganon was quite amused now. Never had he seen such will, such spirit. Not even the Hero himself had such power. “Evildoer?” he asked. “You should know, apprentice, the paths of good and evil are separated by a mere sliver of conscience. There is always a way to turn from good to evil, even in the blink of an eye.” He rose to his full height, blocking out the sunlight, casting his gargantuan shadow down on Jarred, who still did not move. “But now you bore me, apprentice,” he muttered, and with a claw swipe threw him into the river.

Jarred could see nothing, hear nothing. The only sounds in his mind were the screams of the innocent before he lost consciousness. He drifted down the moat’s river, and knew no more.

Hours later, he awoke slowly with a throbbing pain in his forehead. Wondering why he was in the water, he rose from the cold liquid to see the horrific destruction of what was once Hyrule Square. Decay and shamble was the theme, and Ganon had risen to the occasion, despite having only been resurrected hours before. Jarred wandered the shattered streets, calling out for people, but secretly knowing there would be no reply.

Making his way back to his home, the back alleys, he could hear a muffled noise coming from what used to be Blair’s house. Hoping to see her, he broke down the splintered doorway that led to the old woman’s dwelling. He could see nothing through the cloud of dust that hung over the ancient place, but still could hear the muffled sound, coming from inside a floor cabinet that was painted green, but was splattered with grey dust.

Bending down, he gingerly opened the cabinet to find, behind the creaking noise, Blair’s small miniature pinscher Trooper. He gave a low howl, and walked out apparently unharmed, shaking off the dust that had settled into his short brown fur. Jarred looked down on the small creature that was Blair’s only family, and saw that in his deep, brown eyes that the dog knew its master was gone forever.

“I’m sorry,” he said sadly to the dog, who had tears now flowing down its face. He stood up and looked down at the dog, who was following him now. “Come on,” he said to Trooper, “I’ll take care of you now.” The dog looked somewhat happy, but ran into the small kitchen that Blair had often cooked food for them both, and brought back a red scarf in its mouth. Blair's old scarf, Jarred thought, she must have left it behind like Trooper.

Jarred understood, and tied it to the dog’s neck, which would hopefully bring the poor thing some joy, and together they walked out of the sad house. If Blair’s gone, I need to find Kent or Keean, Jarred thought to himself, seeing Trooper faithfully following by his side. A few hours ago, he’d just been the Bombchu shop apprentice, thinking of Malon the farm girl and laughing with Kent and Keean. He looked back at the castle, which was now black and tall, as it was in the days that Ganon ruled before. Times change, Jarred thought to himself, and as they change, we must change with the times. He walked out of Hyrule Market, promising to return, and make Ganon pay for these sins. Ready for change, he left, and never looked back.

The time of peace was over, and the time of war had only just begun.

Come on, please review the story. Throw me a bone . I really need people's thoughts so I can make it better.

It'sa good story... You'll have to forgive me for not saying it, but I'm not a very big poster. Don't be discouraged by no one reviewing... You have to wait for the people to come to you. It's not like no one's reading, it's just that they have nothing in particular to say...

NOW KEEP WRITING

nothing was felt behind as the

seems like it should be

nothing was left behind as the

The story itself is well written though, and I enjoy zelda based fanfic. I really like how you used the OOT map, at least for what's happened so far. No grammatical errors as far as I can tell, and that's a simple spelling mistake, no trouble.

I like how the plot is shaping up and it was pretty funny when Malon slapped him. Ganon rising for no apparent reason is a little far-fetched, but you can probably make it work.

The problem I have is that Link went back in time after sealing Ganon, so is this seven years after young link time, or adult link time? The Zelda you described could be the exact same age as the adult one in OOT, or could be seven years older. You didn't specify and it left me curious.

Good story though, very good story overall.

Oh, yes, that. I plan to explain why Ganon reappeared later, and it will feature *spoiler censored by Power Shot*

Chapter Three- A New Legacy

Kakariko Village had once been a wonderful town on the south side of Death Mountain. It held its own beauties of life, children playing in the chicken coop, pestering Anju as she attempted to gather them up, covering her sneezes with her long red hair. The well was dry, but plans had been made to revive it to its former glory, and carpenters still paced through the town, hauling wood and other materials to the various buildings, be it the old windmill, which spun at every hour of the day, or the potion shop where the old hag worked, keeping her spells and secrets. If you had just arrived in Hyrule, you’d hardly think that Ganon held power over the land, and in three months alone had corrupted it. But until today, Kakariko had stood alone, the last free town in Hyrule.

But the settlement was not invincible.

Because today, Ganon had learned of the secrets it held, and that the resistance was at its strongest there, and soon flames ravaged the buildings, sealing off all attempts to escape. Theoretically, no one in the small town could have escaped the wrath of Ganon, who had felt an example was in order so the other provinces nearby would fall to his rule.

Luckily, the resistance had gotten word of the attack in time, and that was why Jarred and Nomen now shifted through the caves under Death Mountain, looking for refuge for the survivors. Nomen parted his long blond hair aside as he and Jarred attempted to seek a new home.

“Lucky for us we heard about it, huh Captain?” the young man asked, grinning up at his leader.

Jarred sighed. He still was unused to the title. He was leader of the resistance, but he hated being called captain. “Get me Keean,” he muttered to the man. “I need his opinion on this.” He saw with satisfaction that Nomen obeyed, and ducked out of the Cavern that the two had discovered.

Three months ago, when Blair had been killed and the world had fallen apart to allow Ganon entry, Jarred had formed the resistance, an alliance sworn to destroy Ganon’s evil. Recruiting had not been easy, but now Jarred had two hundred men, women, and children in his charge, as well as the new refugees from Kakariko. This was mostly due to Nomen, the eager young man that went everywhere with Jarred, thirsty for demon blood. He seemed to be slightly younger than Jarred, with long blond hair and blue eyes. He stood smaller than Jarred, only coming up to his shoulders, but dressed in the manner of the Hero of Time, as Jarred once did with his cardboard box. Nomen was Jarred’s lieutenant, along with Keean, and he’d stirred up masses of people to fight for Hyrule, for he was a powerful inspiration to others, speaking as though he‘d suffered as they had, pleading for people to fight for the dead.

Jarred had long since removed the Hero clothes Keean had forced him to wear, and now sported a long black trench coat that was always left hanging open, revealing the black shirt he wore, with the black pants. Two jagged scars ran down his left eye, a memento of Ganon’s farewell present to him, and one he yearned to pay back. His brown hair had grown out longer, for there were few barbers in this time of war.

Satisfied, he heard the footsteps of two people, Nomen and Keean, coming through the tunnels that he’d gotten through. He stood alone in a large cavern, awaiting the other two. Keean appeared first, exhausted as always, followed by Nomen. Keean hadn’t changed much since he ran like a coward from the Courtyard. Jarred had met up with him in Kakariko, when the resistance had moved there, seeking protection. But I grow weary of this task, he thought, bending down to feel the floor of the cavern.

“What did you want Jarred?” Keean asked, moving through the cave, inspecting the details.

“Will this do for the resistance?” he asked. The others came first. He was leader, and he needed to put their concerns before his own.

“Hmmm… the foundation isn’t bad,” he answered absentmindedly, moving through the cave. “Plenty of room here for everyone, right under the mountain though.” He looked up and smiled, “Yes this place will do quite nicely. Just need to redecorate though and we’ll be able to move in.”

Jarred returned to the work of shifting the boulders, grunting that he’d heard. Nomen resumed work eagerly with him, and Keean went outside to inform the others, who were in Goron City seeking refuge. “We can do this, right?” he asked Nomen, who paused from his work to look up at the tall man.

“I’ve never known you to be wrong before Jarred,” Nomen answered, and left Jarred satisfied.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Construction took forever, it seemed to Jarred, for even the Gorons could only do so much. They came by the dozens to help and live in the refuge, for they were tired of Ganon and his rule. Escape was an essential, so three entrances were created: one in Goron City, another in the mountain, and the first entrance, to Kakariko. Gradually, the crack in the mountain turned into a home for thousands. Jarred was proud of his troops, and as no leader is whole without people to lead, he knew it was because of his people’s beliefs in him.

Months passed, summer became winter, and the defense was fortified inside the refuge. Ganon had learned that the refuge existed, and he was keen to destroy all of Jarred’s people. That won’t happen, he vowed silently, one night in midwinter, the day before she arrived.

Lon Lon Ranch had been destroyed by Ganon’s demons. Talon, the owner, had refused from the beginning to support Ganon’s minions, so he’d been made another example of. And on that day, Jarred walked out to the burnt ruins of Kakariko, snowed in with winter frost, to assist the people with moving supplies.

They recognized him, but then again everyone knew who he was, just not the name. The refugees had little with them, which left Jarred feeling off, he had been counting on them bringing cattle for food and milk.

He casually strolled through the ruined city, putting on a tough face for the newcomers. They are in my world now, he thought, observing them closely. There are only ten, but when you are responsible for feeding thousands, you see them as users of the food you work so hard to provide. At least they brought a few cows…

Aloud, he called, “Welcome, refugees. I’m happy to see that you made it.” Five men, three children, and two women were all that were left of Lon Lon Ranch. Them and ten cows. “Follow me to the refuge.”

One of the women walked up to him, motioning for the others behind to follow. She had dusty red hair, though only a year at most younger than Jarred was. Her blue eyes were holding back tears, even Jarred could see that. “What is it?” he asked her gently, focusing on showing the way to the others.

“Nothing.”

The girl collapsed onto him, weeping into his chest. Jarred felt alarmed, but comforted her. “What happened at the ranch?” he asked, pulling her face up to his.

She looked at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he’d ever seen, blurting out, “I’m Malon of the ranch. Talon, my father, was executed by Ganon earlier, before we could leave the ranch.”

“Malon!?” Jarred blurted to, though for another reason. Malon, as in Malon that slapped me? Aloud, he said, “Weren’t you at the Festival of Time?” he asked casually, though still supporting her with one arm.

“Yes, I was there, that horrible day,” she muttered, wiping away her tears. “That was the last day there was peace. We just barely got away.”

“Yes,” murmured Jarred, distracted with his own thoughts. “I fought him. I too barely survived. What does not kill you makes you stronger I guess.”

She nodded, and moved away from him, embarrassed that she should need help from a stranger. “Are you Jarred, the leader?” she asked, gesturing at the small gathering following them up to the cavern.

As Jarred’s head spun, he nodded as he attempted to locate the entrance to the resistance stronghold. Enchantments had been placed on the dreary entrance to protect the people from harm. He saw the signpost that read To Goron City and knew he was close.

A magician in the resistance had managed a complicated piece of magic on the entrance, disguising it as an ordinary waterfall. Jarred’s eyes latched onto it, but immediately wandered to something else, a sensation he had long before grown accustomed to, the secondary defense that caused all who saw the waterfall to instantly lose interest in it. He felt grateful for Eryngo, the magician who had created the spell, and now led the magician section of the forces under Nomen.

“Is that it?” asked one of the refugees, who was growing cold as the night approached. No one could tell it was night, for there was no sun nowadays. Dreary clouds shrouded the land in a grey darkness that was only broken by the coming of night.

Jarred turned around to see them fully, sizing up which ones could go into the campaign forces. “Yes,” he said finally, “this is your new home.” And without waiting, resisting the spell’s protection, he walked through the waterfall, followed by the others.

The refugees let out gasps of amazement as the waterfall left them dry, and gave way to the largest underground cave ever constructed. Larger than Goron City, the walls were carved out, yet never gave way. The unique location under the mountain gave the resistance warmth during the winter, but cooled during the summer, like adobe. A young man with flaming red hair came up to them.

“Hello Eryngo,” Jarred said, hailing him as the magician master wandered through a group of Zora criticizing the fish that had been created for them by the magicians. Their greatest advances allowed tem to prepare food from rocks, but left something to the taste that was considered widely in the stronghold to be lacking.

Eryngo brushed off his wizard robes and surveyed the small group that Jarred had led in. “Are these the workers from Lon Lon?” he asked, also looking them over, to see which he could recruit. A tall and imposing figure, Eryngo was fully aware of his duties, and had never once failed Jarred. A tall order, considering he was in charge of all alchemic units for the resistance.

“Yes Eryngo,” Jarred answered, moving forward to grasp the magician’s hand. “I trust you’ll see to them?”

“No problem,” Eryngo replied, motioning to the escaped peoples to follow him. “Oh, Jarred,” he said suddenly, “I think Nomen and Keean were looking for you.”

“All right, I’ll check it out.” He watched the group moved away, or rather, he watched as Malon moved away. Focus, he muttered to himself, and left to find his lieutenants. The corridors he traversed were numerous, for he and Keean had devised every passageway in the mountain, to ensure the most possible safety, but he finally made his way towards the rooms of his two second in commands.

“Hey Jarred,” Keean hailed him, as he rested in a cozy chair transmuted from a boulder. Nomen paced around the room, an anxious look rested upon his face.

“How many survived the ranch?” Nomen asked, stopping to look at him.

“About ten,” Jarred answered, it was all he could get out before he was assaulted by a running miniature pincher, Trooper, who was overjoyed to see his master. Taking two great bounds, he leaped into Jarred’s arms, spraying him with drool, covering his face with licks.

“That little?” Keean asked, for he had truly been hoping for reinforcements. “What do we do now?”

Restraining Trooper, Jarred sat down to properly discuss the matter. “I know we were expecting more, but, well, at least it’s less work for the magicians.”

“Well, I still want to speak with Talon, the owner,” Keean finished.

“Can’t.”

“Why not?” asked Nomen, who had resumed his pacing.

“Dead apparently,” Jarred muttered, “they now have in charge some girl named Malon.” Who I can’t get out of my head, he added silently.

“I didn’t expect that,” Keean replied, standing up to indicate the graveness of the situation. “If Ganon keep on killing off his subjects, soon he won’t have any left.”

“I think the time has long since past when Ganon cared about his subjects living,” Nomen agreed, “we’re still trying to evacuate as many Zora as we can before Ganon can attack them and wipe them out.”

“We need a date on that attack Nomen,” said the balding man, “what’s our spy on the inside say?”

“Two weeks, he said. Just enough time to organize our defenses.”

“No.”

Both men turned and looked at Jarred for uttering the word. “What do you mean ’no’?” they asked simultaneously.

“The troops are not yet ready to fight evil, even with all our alchemic units.” Even though Jarred hated to admit weakness, he knew for a fact that his forces were in no way ready to combat evil on such a large scale.

He set Trooper down on the floor, and walked out of the room, muttering that he would come back later, and his head was distracted. Sidestepping through Eryngo’s training sessions, he made his way towards the only haven there for him.

The waterfall was constantly guarded by a man named Avon, who had been among the first members of the resistance. Avon was a short man with a long, black beard, giving the impression that he was a dwarf. He always wore the same stuffy battle armor, black and encrusted with his seal, a dragon breathing fire. Still, it gave him some joy to see Jarred climb up to his perch.

“Hello Avon, how’ve you been?” Jarred asked, settling down on a stone chair next to Avon’s.

“Can’t complain, it’s been a bit too peaceful for my taste,” he replied, pulling out a small pipe from his side patch, along with a sliver of tobacco. “It really is soothing up here, watching over everyone.” He was right. Even without the waterfall, whose calming waters always made the same noises, it was cheerful to see the young ones under them, playing and learning with their parents, as though nothing was wrong.

“Don’t you wish you could be them?” Jarred asked, motioning to the parents and the children. Above all, Jarred had always wanted a normal life, even after Ganon’s arrival.

“I was going to ask you that, Jarred,” the dwarf answered, puffing out rings of smoke from his mouth. “I saw you come in with that girl too. Malon right?”

“Yeah, I met her once in the Festival,” the leader said, looking at the happy children. “I don’t think she remembers me.”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Avon muttered, shifting in his chair. “A lot happened that day. People separated, dead, lost. Do you remember her?”

“What kind of stupid question is that?” Jarred chuckled, rubbing the check where she had slapped him. The two scars around his eye ran down across it. “Of course I remember her, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be talking about it with you.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” the short man said, puffing the pipe, sending heart-shaped smoke into the distance, making Jarred blush. “But how do you feel about her? You only met her once.”

“I don’t understand it either,” the tall man agreed. “I guess I have feelings for her, but why though? You’re right, I only just saw her again.”

“Jarred, I’ve known you for a while. We talk up here about things, but you’re always honest with me. You seek the things in life you know you cannot have. You want a family to take care of, a wife to love, and children to raise. And yet you have denied yourself those things. Why?”

“Because I can’t have a weakness,” Jarred murmured. “You have the right idea Avon, I do want a family, but that would give me a weakness. All these people,” he looked out into the crowd, “depend on me making their choices for them.”

“Yes, Jarred,” finished Avon, who had gotten up. “But when will you make a choice for yourself?” The dwarf smiled, stretched, and left the balcony to take a walk around the stronghold, leaving Jarred to ponder his advice.

If they can find happiness in evil, could the same be true for me? he thought, gazing down at all the people. Footsteps were echoing across the walls and floor, but he cared little for who it was. Probably Avon, he said silently.

“Is this place taken?” asked a girl’s voice. Jarred turned to see it was Malon, in all her beauty. She sat next to him to watch the people.

“No, I don’t mind,” Jarred muttered, his mind on other thoughts.

“You’re Jarred, right?” she asked again. “We spoke earlier, I’m Malon from the ranch.”

“I know who you are,” Jarred muttered, holding out a hand, which was accepted by her. “Why are you here?”

She moved closer to him, her breathing giving away her unshed tears. “I just saw you and needed someone to talk to.”

“What about?”

“What’s been happening, and why are we suffering like this?” she blurted out, holding his arm. “You’re leader, why is all this going on?”

Jarred didn’t speak for a moment, so intense were the questions. “Not a day goes by that I don’t ask myself that,” he said, looking out into the crowds. Nightfall was coming, and the families were eager to get their children to bed. “But suffering? We aren’t living as we once did, but they make the best of what they have, for at least they have each other.”

“You’re right,” she murmured, “I’m just not used to it yet.” She looked up at him. He seemed so strong, like a fortress that could never be defeated. “You remind me of someone I saw once, I can’t place where.”

Jarred chuckled. Maybe what she needs is a memory jogger. Aloud he answered, “Yeah I probably do, pretty lady.” He smiled as her memory clicked into formation, and she remembered what happened with him.

“You,” she said slowly, rising to leave, “I remember you now. You’re the guy that called me that, and beat me.”

“Sounds like me,” he said grinning, standing up to, but grabbing her hand. “And unless I’m mistaken, you still owe me.”

She laughed, amazed at how someone could remember something so trivial at such times. Jarred seemed more than a man to her, for reasons she could not describe.

And so it was, that like the finding of a missing puzzle piece, so did they find each other. Upon that cliff they kissed for the first time, and Jarred cursed every day it had been delayed to him. Nothing mattered, not Ganon, nor the resistance, just the sweet farm girl whom he held in his arms, never to let go.

Time stood still for them, but outside them, time’s flow went on. The attack on Zora Domain was not stopped, but the Zora had been evacuated, and consented to live in the stronghold. Half a year went by, and by that time, Hyrule had been lost. Only the Kokiri and the Gerudos were left free. The rest were scattered across the fields, or in the resistance posts outside the main base.

But one day, in early summer, Malon put on a white dress, braided her red hair with flowers, and went to meet Jarred on the summit of Death Mountain, led by Keean. A large congregation was there, as well as one of the great fairies.

Jarred stood near the crater’s entrance indifferent to the heat. He had donned the old Hero clothes that he’d long since tucked away, and wore the green tunic with pride, for there would be no other day like this in history. Malon, accompanied by Keean, who was to give her away, walked up to were he stood with Eryngo and Nomen.

Marriage has never been an odd thing in times of war and peril, people elope right and left. But for one day, on that summit, it felt like for once Ganon had never existed, and all was right with the world. Jarred took her by her hands, and smiled.

The thousands of beings amassed there watched on as Eryngo placed upon them rings crafted by the Gorons, but for Jarred and Malon, it was as though they were quite alone, for they were gaining the greatest desire in their hearts. Keean cried into his shirt, Nomen stood beside his leader with pride, and Avon was still in his place, guarding the hideaway, when he heard Eryngo say, “You may kiss the bride.”

We all forge our own destinies in this world, our own legacies for others to remember, he chuckled to himself, stretching his arms, but I hope they get back here before they’re found out.

And, still smiling, he walked up the trail himself, to warn the others that the real party was to be held inside the caverns, and no liquor was to be brought outside.