Zelda: the Last Generation - Chapter 1

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Zelda: the Last Generation

by TennisPirate

Libraries: Adventure, General, Legend of Zelda, Romance, Series

Published on / 4 Chapter(s) / 8 Review(s)

Updated on

What might have happened before Ocarina of Time. This is my rendition of the story. It's mucho fun to write!! Deals with death, so I'm rating it PG-13. Sorry, kids. ;)

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Chapter 1, It's a Boy!

Isn’t it kind of assumed that someone writing one of these fics doesn’t own the material they’re “ficcing?” Otherwise, why would it be called a fan fiction? Wouldn’t it just be a regular fiction? *Sigh* But, so Nintendo doesn't hunt me down and sue me for copyright infringement: I do not own the Legend of Zelda or any related paraphernalia.

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It was a beautiful night over Hyrule Field. The black sky was dotted with shining white stars, and not even the wispiest of clouds could be observed from the expansive ground. The rocks and trees scattered throughout the plain were lit up with a soft blue glow, and Hyrule Castle rose up in the distance, silhouetted against a rising, silvery moon. In itself, the castle was not much to look upon. Its height stemmed mainly from a single tall tower rising up in the very center. Apart from that, the castle was very typical in many ways. It had a number of shorter towers and turrets branching out in all directions — it even had its own little moat, kept clean and clear by a number of caretakers employed from the nearby villages.

Despite its somewhat shallow appearance, Hyrule Castle was outdone in height only by one lonely mountain, which rose up to the east of the castle. Death Mountain was rumored to be a volcano; Hylian lore suggested a single eruption, hundreds of years ago, when the land was still new. Since then, however, the mountain had become a peaceful place, its gentle slopes and caverns proving suitable for the solitary Goron race, and at its foot lay the quiet Kakariko village. Someone standing at the top of Death Mountain, as many liked to do nowadays, could see as far south as Lon Lon Ranch, a small horse farm set in the middle of Hyrule Field, run by the cheerful Talon and his wife Marielle.

Now, the night watchman, who was sitting diligently at his station atop the mountain, could just make out a small figure dashing out of the Lost Woods and heading north. He watched for a moment, slightly curious, until he recognized it as Tamarisa Querelekt coming back from her visit to the Kokiri Forest. He smiled. There was something about the girl that made everybody’s day just a little brighter.

T’risa pressed her face close to her horse’s mane. “Come on, Coltor,” the girl whispered, her purple eyes gleaming, her long blonde hair flowing out behind her. “Are you really this slow?”

The horse flipped his white mane as if to show how insulted he was, then he ducked his head and shifted into a full-out gallop. T’risa smiled excitedly and hugged her mount’s bobbing neck. “That’s it, baby,” she urged. “Keep going. You don’t get to run like this every day.”

Ten minutes later (((A/N: Yes, I know that in the game it takes almost half a day to go from anywhere in Hyrule to anywhere else, but please try to bear with me.))), Coltor trotted up to Kakariko’s entrance. T’risa dismounted, sliding easily off the sturdy animal, and she ran a loving hand over the velvety chestnut coat. “Come on,” she said, clicking her tongue. Coltor followed her up the stone steps, skillfully navigating the narrow ledges. As they passed, a guard at the village gate gave T’risa a nod, which she returned with a smile. Silently, horse and master approached a small house set into the rock that surrounded the little town. The girl tied her horse to a post in the front yard, stroking his nose affectionately. “Good night, baby,” she whispered. Coltor, though almost eight years old, never objected to being called “baby.” He snorted and nuzzled his owner’s hand, making her laugh. “Tomorrow we’ll go to Lon Lon,” she promised.

Leaving Coltor to his dreams, T’risa moved to the door of her house. The lights were still on inside. She smiled and turned the knob. The moment the door shut behind her, a pair of strong arms scooped her into a passionate embrace. She gasped slightly, taken by surprise, then threw her arms around her husband’s neck. “Mako!” She grinned up at him, her eyes shining like amethysts. “You stayed up for me! You don’t have to do that, you know. I don’t mind.”

“Nonsense,” came the reply. “I have to make sure you’re okay.”

Mako kissed his wife on the forehead and met her purple eyes with his blue ones. “How are you?” he asked sincerely. “Everything all right?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. She patted her stomach, adding, “Both of us.”

Mako smiled. “Good,” he said. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen to either of my babies.”

T’risa giggled as her husband tickled her stomach. “You’re gonna spoil him rotten, you know that?”

Mako looked at her. “Him?” he repeated.

The girl nodded. “The Deku Tree was almost positive,” she said, beaming. “A little baby boy, just for you.”

Mako touched her lips with his forefinger. “Us,” he reminded her. “We share him.”

T’risa sighed contentedly and rested her head against her husband’s heavy chest. “Just think,” she said dreamily. “A few more months…”

Mako ran his hand slowly through her hair and down her back, making her shiver. “I know,” he said. After a moment, he put his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her face. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

T’risa cocked her head to the side. “I told you already, I’m fine.”

“I mean about the baby. Are you sure you’re… ready?”

The girl didn’t answer right away. She looked into her husband’s eyes. “I think so,” she said finally. “I don’t know if I’m truly ready, but… it is what I want.” She lifted a hand to his face, pushing a light brown strand of hair out of his eyes.

As she did so, something grabbed Mako’s attention. He caught the girl by the wrist, staring down at her side.

“Mako?” she said, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

He said nothing but pointed down at a series of gashes in her tunic. The tan material was slightly darker around the area, suggesting that blood had been spilt.

“Oh,” said T’risa quietly. “That.”

“You’re hurt.” Mako pulled the girl over to a chair, where she sat down, somewhat reluctantly. He crouched down in front of her. “What happened?”

T’risa sighed. “It’s nothing,” she said, averting her gaze to a crack in the wall. “It’s just a scratch, is all. Nothing to worry about.”

Mako cupped her chin in his hand and turned her head to face him. “What happened?” he demanded. “It is something to worry about! Were you attacked?”

The girl hesitated before nodding slowly. “A Wolfos,” she muttered. “Coltor fought it off, but not before…”

Mako sucked in a sharp breath, concern written all over his face. He leaned in to examine the wound. Gentle fingers peeled at the torn fabric, revealing four parallel slit marks. T’risa winced as the material came away, and Mako looked at her. “I’ll get you a cloth to put on this,” he said, standing back up. “Those cuts are deep; they’ll take a while to heal. Meanwhile, you’ll have to stay in the house. No more trips to the forest until you’ve had a chance to get better — at least a week, if not more.”

T’risa gaped at him. “Mako!” she protested. “I can’t stay in here for that long! A whole week? I’d go absolutely crazy! Besides, I promised Coltor I’d take him out again tomorrow.”

Mako gave her an exasperated look. “For the love of Nayru, T’risa, it’s a horse! It can’t understand what you’re saying to it!”

“He needs his exercise!”

“You need to get better!”

“I’m fine! I won’t even notice it in the morning!”

“I don’t care. Those trips are getting too dangerous for you, anyway.”

“I’m old enough to take care of myself!”

“It has nothing to do with age. You’re pregnant, T’risa!”

“Who do you think you are, my father?”

“You’re acting like a child.”

“I am not!”

Mako looked at her pointedly. Fuming, T’risa lifted herself out of the chair and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door and locking it behind her. Her husband shook his head. His parents had warned him that this sort of thing might happen. He remembered a conversation he had had with his father only a year ago:

“She’s only a child,” his father was saying. “If you insist upon marrying her, at least wait until she’s grown up a little more.”

But, of course, Mako would have none of that. He loved T’risa, even if she was a little young. “She’s practically in her twenties!” he argued. “She’s hardly a child anymore.”

His father snorted. “She’s eighteen, Mako. You’re twenty-five! There’s a difference there, whether you choose to see it or not.”

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” his son asked defensively.

The old man sighed. “I’m only trying to look out for you,” he said. “For both of you. I don’t like the idea of marriage just yet, but if you do go through with it, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. Just remember that there will be times when she may act… well, childish. You’ll have to be patient with her.”

Thinking back on it, Mako realized his father may have been right. Had he rushed into this too quickly? He was old enough to marry and have children, but T’risa was still a girl. What if she wasn’t ready, after all? He heaved a sigh and went to the bedroom door. “T’risa?” he called, tapping on the frame with a knuckle.

“Go away,” came the muffled response.

Mako shrugged and returned to the kitchen. All of a sudden, he felt his head start throbbing at the temples. Oh, no, he thought. Not now…

Like a flash, he bolted to the mirror above the kitchen sink. He stared at his reflection anxiously, watching for the telltale sign. It took a moment, but sure enough, it was happening. Mako watched in horror as his pale blue eyes transformed, slowly turning a pale shade of green. He shook his head, as if refusing to accept it would prevent what he knew was coming. “No,” he muttered. “Stop, please!”

But his eyes didn’t heed the warning. Now definitely green, they were getting deeper and darker. Once the color change was complete, Mako felt a searing pain in the back of his head as his pupils contracted, becoming unnaturally small. The man cried out and grabbed at his hair, trying to stop the pain. He stumbled backwards, tripping over a chair and crashing noisily to the floor. He writhed about like a convulsing snake, crying out in pain and agony. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, Mako lay still on the floor. His eyes were wide open and bloodshot, his pupils barely visible in the sea of green. The walls of his kitchen swirled together, creating colors and designs he was certain he’d never seen before. They popped out at him, making no noise, and yet piercing his eardrums with astonishing power. Suddenly, everything became clear. He was outside, on Hyrule Field, looking down from the sky. All seemed normal. Then, he saw it.
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