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Shadows of Oblivion/Chapter 4

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Within the hour the trio had made it to their destination, the village of Hedora, just as the sun had begun to set. A small village compared to the many others in the region, containing only 10 buildings spread evenly throughout the valley, excluding the large windmill that overshadowed. Built nearly a century beforehand, the village lay along the fertile lands surrounding the ancient woods that, while believed by many outsiders to be cursed and evil, the villagers sensed no ill will in, even if those who entered them rarely, if ever, returned alive.

As they approached the gate, a familiar face caught Link’s attention. It was Horace, the town guard, who kept a close eye on the surrounding lands in case bandits or raiders attempted to take the village by surprise. Upon seeing the group, Horace could be seen waving before realizing that a third member had joined them. Running towards the group, he soon reached them and said “What happened?! Was it Bokoblins!?”

Before Link could reply to his question, his grandfather said “I fear it may be something much more worse than those savages, but I’ll tell the council later. For now we may need some medical attention.

Vegas lay upon the floor, his face badly bruised and his arms broken in several places. As he painfully attempted to raise himself up off the ground, an armored boot came down upon his arm, causing a cracking sound. Gasping, he collapsed and nearly blacked out before slowly looking up at the face of his lord, Zenith, and quickly began to beg for forgiveness. Zenith was quiet for a moment, then raised his hand, ordering the figure, his general Serak, to stop as he said “You failed me… now the Hylians may catch wind of this attack… your excuse will decide whether or not Serak will finish the job, so think carefully before you speak.”

Staring at the armored figure, his massive form covered in silver armor embroidered with the image of a dragon’s skull on his breastplate. He then noticed him clench his gauntleted fists, causing large arm-blades to extend. He was just waiting for any excuse to finish the job, and Zenith would most likely soon grant him his desire.

Gulping in fear, Vegas than sputtered out what had occurred, ranging from the ambush from the Stalfos to the encounter with the two men, and upon reaching that part, said, “We… we encountered two men, an old man and his grandson, as he said, who were both skilled with a blade. They went by the names Oden and Link, and they-“.

Before he could finish the sentence Zenith suddenly reached out and lifted Vegas off the ground with one hand, shouting “WHAT DID YOU SAY HIS NAME WAS!?” As his gauntlets dug into the flesh of his neck, drawing blood, Vegas quickly sputtered out the names Oden and Link. Zenith then tossed him aside, saying to the two guards by the doorway “Take this one to the healers, and make sure no one enters this hut. Do I make myself clear?”

Both guards nodded and then carried off the beaten captain, shutting the tent entrance behind him. After they were gone, Zenith muttered under his breath “It was just as they said…” before turning to his most trusted general, saying “It is occurring, just as they said… the one known as Link has been reincarnated. That can only mean that we are going along as scheduled. He will most likely make his way to the castle of Hyrule, just as it is said of his ancestors… we must be ready for when the time is right.”

Turning towards his commander, he said “We will require more information… fetch that accursed magician and bring him here.” Bowing, Serak then turned to leave, but stopped as Zennith said, “Make sure you say nothing except for what is absolutely necessary to tell… and don’t fall for any of his tricks or lies.”

Link sat on all small bench outside the healer's hut, having already had his bruises checked and found to be fine. His grandfather was still being checked out, the healer, Niad, had not liked the look of his shoulder. The boy, on the other hand, was resting in Niad's bed, the wound in his shoulder having been cleaned and stitched.

Suddenly a hand grabbed him by the shoulder, causing him to nearly jump before realizing who it was. As he turned, a length of brown hair nearly instantly revealed to him that it was Laora, an old friend of his from childhood. She seemed worried, apparently having heard that he had been attacked. She said, "I heard what happened... are you okay?"

Link replied by saying "Ya, I'm okay... grandpa got the worst of it... I hope he will be okay, we were attacked by these strange soldiers... they weren't Hylian... I have no idea who they were."

Both suddenly turned as Oden exited the building, his arm in a sling, as a voice from within yelled out "You better get some rest! I'm not going to have you come back in here because of your reckless hardheadedness!"

Oden merely scoffed and said, "The fool keeps on thinking he knows what's best for me. I don't care if he's a doctor, I'm completely fine... my arm will be... uh... better in a few weeks."

The voice from within the building yelled out again, saying, "I heard that! I do know what's best for you, and I told you a month of rest, not weeks!"

Scratching the back of his head, Oden quickly said, "Uh, lets go and see the council Link."

Serak stepped into the tent, and looked side to side, and saw only blackness. As he took another step forward, he was momentarily startled by a row of candles on either side of him suddenly lit up on their own, forming a path towards the back of the tent where a bowl of oil ignited in blue flames, revealing a figure cloaked in red robes sitting cross legged on the ground before it. Head held low, his face obscured by his hood, he held an outstretched hand, and in it he was holding a small crystal orb in which what appeared to be a butterfly made of flames flapping about.

His gaze apparently intent on the orb, he said to himself “Life… how something so grand could have such humble components and origins. To have been created and designed by the divines so that they could inhabit the world they created and fill it with numerous wonders and mysteries. How many forms they take, from the great to the small, from the mundane to the exotic, and yet they have one thing in common… they are all so, oh how do you say it… oh yes, eh heh heh heh… frail!” and with that utterance the butterfly within the orb burst into sparks.

The robed figure then looked, the shadows within his hood concealing all but his pure white luminous eyes, their gaze seemingly staring into Serak’s soul before he said, “Why have you come?”

Serak snarled and said “Lord Zenith demands your audience, Carock. You are to meet him in his tent in order to discuss current events. He will expect you within the hour, so get moving warlock.” before turning about and leaving the tent, leaving Carock to wither in the darkness for all he cared.

Carock chuckled to himself, and then said in a low voice, “So everything is coming to pass as it was foreseen… it is just as they said… I must now prepare for the future.”

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