The Legend of Zelda : Twisted Destiny

 

I

Castle Town, 19 years later

 

                Where the sun didn’t shine quite brightly and the darkness seemed to rule, either in an alleyway or into the people’s heart, it was known that no man of justice and good would set foot, but the unlucky guards of Hyrule. The Slums or the Lower Quarters were home to the thieves, murderers and rapists. It was home to the poor and the sick where people shared a meal or a box with rats and stray, enraged dogs. Disfigured, handicapped and merely ugly people would cast their malicious, scared and blood-shot eyes on the outsiders. Shaking from hunger, their mind clouded with the desire to find their drugs and their hands clenched around razor-sharpened blades, the inhabitants – the outcasts – of the Slums were ready to jump at anyone and kill the first lost soul for a rupee.

                Needless it is to mention that no healthy soul would near that part of the glorious Castle Town that was also home to Hyrule’s nobility and merchants.

                The sun was setting over the holy land. Castle Town was bathing in a soft, yet glorious golden light. In the slums, that light was weirdly orange. In the alleyways a few men were making their way to some abandoned house. They laughed loudly and kicked the few belongings of the poor people who lived on the street they took. Disgustingly dirty cats hissed at them as they walked by and one of them threw a rock to an old woman who was begging for food.

                They were the real bastards, there.

                Suddenly, a redheaded woman appeared before them in a revealing dress. She exposed carelessly her curves to the men and smiled seductively before walking to them. “Good evening, my good lords.” She said in a silky voice. The men chuckled as they stared at each other, then at the busty redhead.

• 
  “Good evening, milady.” One of them replied before taking her hand and kissing it. She giggled.


• 
  “I am a little lost. Do you think you could help me to find my way back to the merchants’ quarters?” She asked.


• 
  “Of course… But we will demand…” He undressed her with his stare. She felt like throwing up at his face, but kept her smile. “Compensation.” And the men all started to laugh again.


• 
  “Of course.” She laughed as well, something glimmering in her blue eyes.


• 
  “Then, you should come with us, my dear…”


• 
  “Malon. My name is Malon.” The man holding her hand kissed it again.


• 
  “Then, my delicious Malon, please follow us.” Some random man squeezed her ass and she giggled sexily at him.


• 
  “Let’s go then.”

A low chuckle echoed through the alleyway as Malon dragged the men away. She looked up at the source of the noise; a young man on a rooftop, hidden in dark and tight clothes was looking at her, his wavy and long blue hair flowing with the wind. She nodded at him, a somewhat evil smirk on her pink and full lips. The man nodded back before disappearing. “So, how’s she doing, P?” Asked a spiky and redheaded man who wore clothes similar to the other.

• 
  “As always.” The blue-haired man answered before running a hand graciously in his hair.


• 
  “Such a good whore she makes.” The redhead chuckled.


• 
  “What do you know of female whores, Acheron?” The spiky turned his bloody-red eyes to look at his friend.


• 
  “Who cares about that, it’s obvious she has experience, Periphlegeton.” The blue-haired man rolled his eyes and groaned in disapproval as he heard is full name.


• 
  “Don’t use my name, my dear. I’ve asked you this a few times already.” Acheron chuckled darkly and smirked under the mask that was covering half of his face.


• 
  “Why? What are you gonna do, huh?” P turned around to look at him, his own mask not camouflaging the displeasure in his own bloody eyes.


• 
  “Castrate you.” A lower, darker chuckle reached their ears and they turned to another of their comrades.


• 
  “I’m pretty sure he’d do it, my dear fiery friend.” Replied the brunet who was hiding in the shadow of a tree and who wore the same suit as the other two.


• 
  “What do you know of his castrating ability, Cocyte?”


• 
  “Not much, but P is the kind of guy who holds to his promises.” Acheron swallowed and looked up at the blue-haired man.


• 
  “He is right, you know.” Answered P.

As they kept arguing, on a rooftop nearby, another man sighed. He was exasperated by their useless conversation as he kept watch over the operation. His dark blue suit disappeared into the darkness of the rooftop in which he was elegantly and skilfully installed. He kept his eyes on Malon, as well as he made sure that a small boy nearby as well as some beggar were doing fine as the gross men were about to meet them. He switched position, his light but strong muscles flexing in a feline way, which made his long, golden braid fall over his shoulder and onto the roof with a soft “thud”. He stared down at it a split second before setting his bloody gaze on his targets again.

The men and Malon walked through the checkpoint that was where they met with a small white-haired and spiky boy with huge red eyes. He looked up at them and ran before the group as he tried to catch a stray dog that was barking happily at him. However, the child tripped over his own foot and fell heavily on his derrière before looking up with teary eyes at Malon. She smiled softly at him and nodded. He looked down before getting up and running away again.

Malon’s group continued on towards some isolated house. However, they crossed the path of a beggar on their way; a man who looked like any other beggars and whose eyes were hidden behind a curtain of dirty blond hair. “A rupee for the poor.” He demanded softly. The men chuckled and one of them kicked him.

• 
  “Be gone, scumbag!” He yelled at the man on the ground before chuckling victoriously.


• 
  “May the Goddesses be with you.” Replied the beggar. The men soon disappeared in the house they were heading at, dragging Malon along with them.

The beggar rose and looked at the house before disappearing in a dark alleyway. Sighing, he took off his dirty clothes to reveal the features of a healthy and athletic young man. “It’s hot in that damn suit.” He said, his voice now more strong than the beggar’s.

• 
  “It’s wool.” Pointed the blond man with the braid right after he landed silently beside the “beggar”.


• 
  “I know. So, how was your trip on that rooftop?” The dirty blond asked as he switched clothes before the other man.


• 
  “As any other trip on a rooftop. Your questions are irrelevant.” The taller man chuckled lowly.


• 
  “That’s why you love me.”


• 
  “That is somehow true.” He chuckled. The blue-haired man also landed beside them.


• 
  “My dear Sheik, this is getting long.” The blond with the braid turned around.


• 
  “You should advise dear Link, here.” P looked at the said man. Link waved at him, his back turned to the two men.


• 
  “Malon can handle them for a few minutes.”


• 
  “And what if she can’t?” Asked P, crossing his arms over his chest.


• 
  “She’ll have to suck for longer.” Link pointed bluntly before he turned to face them. “Let’s get a move on.” P sighed.


• 
  “This guy is impossible.” The blue-haired pointed as Link walked past them. Sheik smirked under his mask.


• 
  “He is.”

In the house, the men were partying already, talking loudly and drinking as if there was no tomorrow. Malon was up in a bedroom with the man who had kissed her hand. She rode him, rolling her hips sensually as she raised her hands to her hair, her breasts bouncing at every thrust. She moaned at every movement, faking with skill that she was enjoying the moment. She opened her eyes to look down at the man who was digging his fingers in her ass. His eyes were closed. She turned towards the nearby window and waved at Cocyte who was staring calmly at her. She sent him a kiss between two moans and she saw his shoulders shake as he chuckled. The brunet then looked down and nodded. Malon smirked.

As the men partied and waited more or less patiently their turn with Malon upstairs, a knock on their door was heard. They stopped making noise to look at each other, then at the door again. The knock was heard again. One of the men cursed and got up to open the door. On the other side, stood a young athletic man with dark blond hair and steely blue eyes. He smiled to him. “Hi, I’m looking for my sister. Some redhead with blue eyes and curves. Seen her?” The man blinked but did not answer. “Err… Are you def or something, ‘cuz I asked you somethin’” The young man crossed his arms over his chest.

• 
  “No, no redhead here. Sorry buddy.” He tried to close the door, but the dark blond swiftly kept him from doing so.


• 
  “Are you sure? ‘Cuz I’m pretty sure I saw her comin’ in here with y’all.”


• 
  “I said she’s not here!” Answered the man again, his tone more brutal.


• 
  “Oh, then you don’t mind if I look around, perhaps?” The man snorted.


• 
  “Fuck off, kid!” He yelled as he tried to shut the door. The blond chuckled.


• 
  “Kid, heh?” A few seconds later, he was inside the house with his dagger – previously hidden – deeply buried in the man’s throat. The blond smirked evilly as his steely, icy stare met the dying man’s. “Would a kid do that, huh?” He whispered to his victim with a poisonous and hatred-filled voice.

Link pulled his dagger out of the man’s corpse and turned just in time to see invisible needles go through the window and pierce the other men’s body. They fell to the ground, dead. Sheik appeared beside Link a second later. “Such a bloody mess” Pointed Link.

• 
  “Yes. Like you like them.” The dirty blond chuckled as Malon appeared. She walked to Link and hugged him, burying her head in his chest and leaning on him. He looked down at her. “Was that asshole nice to you? ‘Cuz I can dishonour his body.” She giggled.


• 
  “No, he only fucked me.” She said as she ran a finger on Link’s chest. He chuckled.


• 
  “We all do, dearest.” Sheik rolled his eyes behind them.


• 
  “I think it’s time to report to Master before you do something stupid, Link.” The said Hylian chuckled darkly again.


• 
  “Yes, I’ll just do something before leaving.”


• 
  “Something?” Asked Sheik.


• 
  “Yeah, just to be sure the bastards of the royal guard will be annoyed.” He chuckled darkly once again. Sheik rolled his eyes and then chuckled.

 

***

 

                The house was filled with royal guards as they were busy cleaning the bloody mess that was the crime scene. One after another, the bodies of the dead men were dragged out the back door to a cart. They installed the corpses beside each other, covering them with a blanket to hide the horror of their mutilated death to the innocents of Castle Town.  Some curious came to peek as others were trying to steal the belongings of the dead men. The guards would make them leave the scene, sometimes using more strength than necessary. A young woman neared the guards. She was prettier than any slum-inhabitant and tried to sneak near the cart to steal from the dead. A young guard with dark hair turned swiftly and grabbed her wrist roughly. She gasped as he forced her down to her knees and pressed his long and heavy sword against her throat. “Stop right there, you criminal scum!” He yelled. She looked up at him, tears in her dark eyes.

• 
  “I haven’t done anything!”


• 
  “Your tongue won’t save your actions, woman!”


• 
  “But I was only walking by!”


• 
  “Shut up or you’ll feel the wrath of justice!” He raised his sword.


• 
  “No!!!” She looked down as he let the heavy blade fall down. But it never came. She look up to see a taller and larger guard, wearing a much more decorated armour and a cape, standing in the trajectory of the sword.


• 
  “Ca-Captain!”


• 
  “Will you stop that non-sense, Ludvic?” Demanded the so called captain as he pushed the smaller guard’s blade away from him.


• 
  “S-S-She was-“


• 
  “Doing nothing wrong. Now, we don’t need people acting stupidly around here and around this crime scene. Return to the castle.”


• 
  “But-“ The taller man’s midnight stare hardened.


• 
  “Castle.” He whispered lowly and menacingly. Ludvic sighed and bowed his head in respect before obeying his superior.

The captain then turned around and offered his hand to the lady. She took it nervously, staring up at him. She blushed. He was tall, muscular, tanned with midnight blue eyes. As he leaned down to help her to her feet, she couldn’t help but remark his long chocolate-hair that was kept in a louse ponytail and that fell before his eyes. He smiled to her. “Are you alright?” He asked in a rather low voice. She swallowed and nodded. “Then, I must apologize for my men’s manners.” She shook her head.

• 
  “N-no… It’s okay…” She replied, staring at him. He nodded.


• 
  “I am glad to see you are fine, milady, but I must excuse myself as I have work to do, but feel free to find me if you need something.” He bowed his head respectfully before turning around and heading towards the house.

The captain walked to the house and entered it, grimacing right away to the revolting smell of rotten blood and corpse that reached his nose. It sure wasn’t his first crime scene, but he would never really get used to the smell. Covering his nose with his hand, he walked to his second-in-hand, Gregory. The said man looked over at his superior. “Same as always. Just as cruelly and skilfully executed.” The brunet nodded.

• 
  “A message, perhaps?” Gregory laughed.


• 
  “Of course. They won’t forget to nag the Great Isca.” He chuckled and walked away to allow his captain to look down at the wall.

Think you can catch me yet, captain?

It’s a shame you are single, ‘cuz I’d go fuck your wife.

Fuck you.

Isca’s stare hardened as he read the message on the wall which was written in blood. He knew the author of this message, and he hated him so very deeply. Not only was this individual the lowest of all the bastards of the Slums, but he was a psychopathic murderer who had no sense about what was right or wrong. Isca had been working for years to get that asshole and his gang behind locked doors. And yet, he seemed to always disappear when there was no possible way for him to actually get away. He was as slippery as water between your fingers.

Gregory neared his captain and friend and looked up at him. “I’ve filled the reports for you.” He handed Isca some papers.

• 
  “Thank you, Gregory, I will go and give those to the princess.”


• 
  “Yes, your dear princess.” The smaller man chuckled as Isca stared down at him.


• 
  “That’s so terribly not what you may think.” Gregory raised a finger to correct his captain.


• 
  “What EVERYBODY thinks, you mean. The whole kingdom is convinced that you are sleeping with the princess.” Isca rolled his eyes.


• 
  “That’s so amoral…” And he walked away to, ultimately, exit the house. Gregory chuckled.

***

                Hyrule Castle was as impressive as ever; it was incredibly huge and imposing and it gave away that feeling that comes out of sacred shrines. Isca entered the holy building through the front doors, where some commoners were reunited and talking together. He walked past them as people waved at him. He smiled politely back and walked right through the guarded doors.

                He had always wondered why there were so many stairs in that castle, and mostly, why the towers had to go so high above the ground. His heavy armour was starting to be really heavy after a hundred or so of walks. Nevertheless, he finally reached the room he was headed to.

                And was surprised when he found a little bald man in a violet suit guarding the door, instead of lady Impa. He stopped before the man, and the said strange man looked up at Isca. “Yes…?” demanded the dwarf-like servant.

• 
  “I have business with the princess.” Answered Isca before blinking at the man.


• 
  “Oh? Everyone does. Why should I let you get in?” Asked the violet-suited man before crossing his ankles. Isca’s left brow rose.


• 
  “I am the captain of the Royal Guard, Isca-“


• 
  “And I am the princess’s personal servant, Argant-Philis Thomson-Lagacé XVII, as long as Lady Impa is away.” Isca blinked.


• 
  “……. What did you say your name was?”


• 
  “Argant-Philis Thomson-Lagacé XVII!’’ Repeated the small and weird looking man. Isca shook his head lightly.


• 
  “Look…… I don’t need to know your name and you don’t need to know mine. Just let me through.”


• 
  “HOW INSOLENT!” Isca rolled his eyes. A soft and wise laugh then echoed in his ears. He looked up and sighed, relieved.


• 
  “Princess. Finally.” Isca brushed the hysterical little man aside.


• 
  “Oh, please, Isca. I’m Zelda to you.” She walked back into her room, leaving the door open for her knight. Isca chuckled.


• 
  “Yes, I know.” He closed the door behind him, letting Argant-Philis alone in his hysteria.

The room in which the princess pleased to spend her days was the highest of the castle. From there, an immense window allowed her to stare at her whole kingdom as she sat beside it while filling different forms and signing different documents or alliance, most of the time. As she re-entered the room with Isca, she went to sit down by her window, as she always did and waited for him to come closer, smiling softly.

Isca was one of those men who were more muscular then beefs, but as shy as a little girl. When it came to women, he was of those who never seemed to find the right words right away and he always ended up blushing and locking himself in silence, unless he was performing his duties. But with Zelda, it was different; the princess was a close friend of his, and almost like a sister. Being at ease with her, he smiled softly to the ruler or Hyrule before bowing slightly in respect. “Zel…” She sighed.

• 
  “Murders?” She asked, her pale eyes darkening slightly. Isca nodded.


• 
  “Yes. Same group as always.” She shook her head slightly and looked out the window a moment. Isca looked down, a little ashamed that he hadn’t succeeded to catch those criminals yet. “I’ll capture them…”


• 
  “That’s what we hope for.” She looked at him. “But so far, no one can even really localize them.” She smiled softly. “Not even the captain of the Royal Guard.” Isca blushed slightly in shame. Zelda rose and walked to her knight, placing a reassuring hand on his armoured chest. He looked down at her. “But I can tell that the wind is shifting.”


• 
  “Shifting?”


• 
  “We are at the age of a prophecy, Isca.” She went back to her window.


• 
  “The Legend of the Hero of Time, right?” She invited him to sit down nearby.


• 
  “Yes, precisely.” Isca snorted.


• 
  “Yet, no one seems to have the capacities to pull the Master Sword out of its pedestal…” She looked at him.


• 
  “This means that the Hero hasn’t been awakened yet.” Isca looked out the window, his stare setting on the Market district of Castle Town.


• 
  “But it would be time. The people need someone to right this situation… They can’t keep on living in terror eternally.” And they simultaneously set their stare on the Temple of Time.


• 
  “Be patient, Isca. The time will come.” He nodded softly. Zelda rose again and walked away. He followed her movements with his stare. “By the way, my dear knight, I have some news, that I think you’ll be happy to hear, for you.”


• 
  “And what would that be?” She smirked to him, a little maliciously.


• 
  “A certain princess, from a certain twilight realm, is coming to pay us a prolonged visit.” His eyes widened and she couldn’t help but chuckle at his expression.


• 
  “Lady Tatl?!” She nodded.


• 
  “Yes.” Isca rose, smiling widely.


• 
  “When will she be here?” He asked excitedly. She giggled to his reaction.


• 
  “It would be about time for her to arrive in town. Maybe you would like to go and escort her back to the castle?” He nodded with maybe a little too much conviction. “You’ll be going, then, I suppose.” He nodded again.


• 
  “Yes, ma’am!” and with that, he disappeared quickly, closing the door behind him. The screams of Argant-Philis echoed in the staircase as Isca escaped him.

 

***

                Castle Town was madly crowded from the gates of the city to the gates of the castle. For any outsider, it was impressive or even scary. There were some many noises and so many people that you couldn’t really see the difference between the merchant and the customer or the artist performing a show. It was a blend of merchants, peasants, guards, whores and children, like an enormous field of multicoloured flowers.

                That was the scene that welcomed the Twilight Princess, Tatl. Up on a noble and black horse, she looked, amazed, at the city. Her flashy magenta eyes shone excitedly as she stared at the crowded streets. People’s heads turned as she entered the city because of her rather exotic beauty; as a member of the twilight realm, she bore the physical distinction of her tribe. Her skin was pink, going almost magenta when the light wasn’t shining on her. On the other hand, she would become pale, nearing the color of the whitest cream, when light reached her skin. To contrast with the color of her skin and eyes, her hair were literally turquoise and wavy, going down to the middle of her back. And to add to her exotic charms, she had been graced by nature with exquisite curves that would make men – and women – snap their head at her. She was, sadly for most, wearing a black dress with fluorescent green lines, an outfit that was traditional to the Twilis.

                She looked to her right side, excitedly, to her butler. He looked back at her, his stare blank of any emotions, but Tatl knew better. “Olwen….? Do you think we could go take a look around…?” She asked, her tone maybe a little childish. He shook his head.

• 
  “The princess is awaiting us.” Her face fell a little.


• 
  “But…”


• 
  “We will have plenty enough of time to roam around this city.” He pointed. She sighed.


• 
  “Not even for a few minutes?” He stared severely at her, an expression that would have been almost terrifying for anyone else. She pouted as Olwen chuckled softly.

Olwen was a tall and really large Sheikah. He was, just like most of the remaining people of his tribe, a servant to a royal family. His allegiances were for the Twilight royalties, though, while most of the Sheikahs were known to serve Hyrule. Clothed in a black suit that would cover half his face, he was of an impressive stature compared to almost everyone. Up on his black stallion and beside Tatl’s vibrant appearance, he seemed like an imposing shadow. His skin was a very pale shade of beige, almost white. From what was see-able of him, he had deep crimson eyes that reflected logic and wisdom. To top his ghostly appearance, he had silver hair that would fall down before his face. The color of his hair was the reason of his name: Olwen meant, after all; “The Silver”.  Older than Tatl, he had cared for her almost all his life and was, at some point, a little like a father to her.

So she turned to him again. “What are we waiting for?” She demanded. He sat his crimson stare on her, then back into the crowd.

• 
  “We are waiting for your escort.” She tilted her head to the side.


• 
  “Isn’t that you?” He shook his head.


• 
  “Yes, but I doubt the princess will let her guest unescorted by some… royal guard.” He looked at her, his stare playful. Her eyes widened a little.


• 
  “You mean…”


• 
  “I do.” Olwen was one of those men who had a good timing. And to prove this theory, a certain Hylian appeared above the crowd, riding a beautiful white mare. Olwen chuckled lightly as Tatl’s expression became happy again.


• 
  “Isca!” She called as she waved at him. The man on the horse blushed as he spotted her and he hurried to meet her.


• 
  “L-l-lady Tatl! I am terribly glad to s-see you again.” Olwen had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes at the knight’s visible attraction for Tatl. She giggled as he blushed darker again.


• 
  “And it is good to see you again, Isca.” She answered, smiling sweetly to him. “But you are aware that I hate being called by some titles. Just call me by my name, okay?” The knight nodded.


• 
  “Of course, lady Tatl.” She sighed. “The princess is w-waiting for you. I-I-I shall escort you to her…”


• 
  “Then, I suggest we start moving.” Interfered Olwen’s low voice.