The wind whipped at the red plume on his helmet and he stood, freezing half to death on a muddy swamp.
'Damn this swamp, damn the King and damn that stupid wind!' said the guard positioned next to him, Grenn, he was called, and he was always grumpy.
'Don't be so down Grenn, we'll be back home soon!'
'Shut up! You don't know anything about soldiering! You've been here a week, not six months like the rest of us!' Groose gave a shiver. His ancestors had been from Skyloft, and what was he? A part of the Hyrule militia was all, not some hero like he was supposed to be. The watched the men in front, the wind lapping at trees like a cat to milk. He gripped he spear tightly. This was his watch, watching for Ganondorf he supposed, but he never came. He didn't know whether to be relieved or saddened by this. He wanted action so badly, and training didn't count. He sighed.
It was the same routine every day. Eat, stand, eat, train, stand, eat, sleep, repeat. He was sick of it, and he'd only been here a week. He thought of home, of Castle Town, his mother Karis and his dad, Robb. He didn't remember much of his father. Killed by a moblin, they found him a week later with a rusty spear through his back, and short of a leg. Even his sister brought back happy thoughts. She was a maid to the princess Zelda, lived in the castle most of the time, but she was very pretty and he hoped she got married to some nice guy, lots of money and enough room as well.
14 days later...
It was his twenty first day on this damned swamp now. He'd grown some stubble, reminiscent of his father, and come to accept and at the same time hate the routine. He and Grenn had become friends, not just colleagues and he found out about the fact that Grenn's father is a counciller, and that his older brother was going to get all the land, so he joined this instead. Nothing had happened. Only the wind, a few frogs and a travelling mask salesman had come through. No sign of that idiot, Ganondorf. He thought about deserting, but he knew he'd be caught. Routine was all he knew.
365 days later...
One cursed year. One cursed year. One year wasted. His birthday had gone by forgotten, Grenn had left on account of his age, and he had a new watch partner, a cocky young man called Pirito, who he didn't like nearly as much as Grenn. The most action he'd seen had been killing that Bokoblin in spring, and it was winter now.
Then the horn sounded. The ranger came charging back, clad in his blue cloak, only to be shot down by a jagged and black arrow. It came from a bokoblin. Neigh, an army of things. Followed by Keese. And Moblins. And Stalfos. And atop a horse, a man rode, hair like flame and skin like the night. He felt his breeches dampen, and felt a trickle down his leg. He gulped and looked at Pirito. This was it, the end. The horde advanced, outnumbering them 10 to 1. The generals and all the men off duty came out. In the lines they'd practiced.
The horde stopped. And charged. He heard an order barked, but it fell on deaf ears. The Bokoblins reached them killing a few with those jagged blades, but taking as many casualties because of spears. The Keese were just behind, ready to dive at the order. He felt like fainting. The first line was broken, The Keese hit the second line, and the Moblins and Stalfos charged. The ranks of the guard broke and Groose tried to get behind them, take out a few with his spear, then melee a few with his sword. But then HE came. Hair still burning like flame. His horse reared and Groose managed to stab it. It pierced the black hide and sent a spurt of blood come out of the side, de-horsing the fiend. He drew a blade of pure black steel and walked slowly up to him. He jabbed with his spear, catching Ganondorf in the arm.
Just then,a green blur whizzed past and cut down Ganondorf. What?! That was his kill. He saw him, the green blur, blond hair, a clever face and a shield with strange patterns. Him! He charged at him, only for his lunge to be parried and to be cut down with a strange blade. The last thing he saw was his own blood
One Week Later
Karis wept. The tears steamed up in the cold. Her son lay dead, someone in this mass grave. But he had been a traitor. They told her that he had tried to kill Link. Her son was no traitor, that Link was the murderer who killed her son! She yelled, ''DAMN YOU LINK!'' and left, crying. She was stopped by a guard, red plume whipping in the wind, and put to the sword. ''Traitorous scum...''
'Damn this swamp, damn the King and damn that stupid wind!' said the guard positioned next to him, Grenn, he was called, and he was always grumpy.
'Don't be so down Grenn, we'll be back home soon!'
'Shut up! You don't know anything about soldiering! You've been here a week, not six months like the rest of us!' Groose gave a shiver. His ancestors had been from Skyloft, and what was he? A part of the Hyrule militia was all, not some hero like he was supposed to be. The watched the men in front, the wind lapping at trees like a cat to milk. He gripped he spear tightly. This was his watch, watching for Ganondorf he supposed, but he never came. He didn't know whether to be relieved or saddened by this. He wanted action so badly, and training didn't count. He sighed.
It was the same routine every day. Eat, stand, eat, train, stand, eat, sleep, repeat. He was sick of it, and he'd only been here a week. He thought of home, of Castle Town, his mother Karis and his dad, Robb. He didn't remember much of his father. Killed by a moblin, they found him a week later with a rusty spear through his back, and short of a leg. Even his sister brought back happy thoughts. She was a maid to the princess Zelda, lived in the castle most of the time, but she was very pretty and he hoped she got married to some nice guy, lots of money and enough room as well.
14 days later...
It was his twenty first day on this damned swamp now. He'd grown some stubble, reminiscent of his father, and come to accept and at the same time hate the routine. He and Grenn had become friends, not just colleagues and he found out about the fact that Grenn's father is a counciller, and that his older brother was going to get all the land, so he joined this instead. Nothing had happened. Only the wind, a few frogs and a travelling mask salesman had come through. No sign of that idiot, Ganondorf. He thought about deserting, but he knew he'd be caught. Routine was all he knew.
365 days later...
One cursed year. One cursed year. One year wasted. His birthday had gone by forgotten, Grenn had left on account of his age, and he had a new watch partner, a cocky young man called Pirito, who he didn't like nearly as much as Grenn. The most action he'd seen had been killing that Bokoblin in spring, and it was winter now.
Then the horn sounded. The ranger came charging back, clad in his blue cloak, only to be shot down by a jagged and black arrow. It came from a bokoblin. Neigh, an army of things. Followed by Keese. And Moblins. And Stalfos. And atop a horse, a man rode, hair like flame and skin like the night. He felt his breeches dampen, and felt a trickle down his leg. He gulped and looked at Pirito. This was it, the end. The horde advanced, outnumbering them 10 to 1. The generals and all the men off duty came out. In the lines they'd practiced.
The horde stopped. And charged. He heard an order barked, but it fell on deaf ears. The Bokoblins reached them killing a few with those jagged blades, but taking as many casualties because of spears. The Keese were just behind, ready to dive at the order. He felt like fainting. The first line was broken, The Keese hit the second line, and the Moblins and Stalfos charged. The ranks of the guard broke and Groose tried to get behind them, take out a few with his spear, then melee a few with his sword. But then HE came. Hair still burning like flame. His horse reared and Groose managed to stab it. It pierced the black hide and sent a spurt of blood come out of the side, de-horsing the fiend. He drew a blade of pure black steel and walked slowly up to him. He jabbed with his spear, catching Ganondorf in the arm.
Just then,a green blur whizzed past and cut down Ganondorf. What?! That was his kill. He saw him, the green blur, blond hair, a clever face and a shield with strange patterns. Him! He charged at him, only for his lunge to be parried and to be cut down with a strange blade. The last thing he saw was his own blood
One Week Later
Karis wept. The tears steamed up in the cold. Her son lay dead, someone in this mass grave. But he had been a traitor. They told her that he had tried to kill Link. Her son was no traitor, that Link was the murderer who killed her son! She yelled, ''DAMN YOU LINK!'' and left, crying. She was stopped by a guard, red plume whipping in the wind, and put to the sword. ''Traitorous scum...''
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