#revwrites

A century before OoT, the Lord of the Akkala Region whom resided in the Akkala Citadel was Volga who was known as the great Dragon Knight of Akkala.  He had no interest in Court nor politics, caring only for battle and victory and as a result was at odds with the other regions. He was determined to be the greatest knight and fill his trophy room with the heads of mythical creatures and monsters and win every grand tourney throughout Hyrule. 

He was so arrogant and full of self-worth, that he sought the greatest trophy of all to crown his castle, the head of the mythical Dragon Dinraal. He tasked scholars from Hyrule Castle to research a way to summon the Dragon whom rarely appeared and only to those worthy. Knowing of his warrior nature and of Dinraal as an aspect of the Goddess of Power Din, they aided him, believing that he sought Dinraal’s blessing.

When the time came, he performed the rite and summoned Dinraal at the Spring of Power. Sensing the deceit of Volga and his men armed as they were for a hunt, Dinraal cursed him in the form of his avatar, a fire dragon. The men, minds twisted by the power of Dinraal, mistook their master for their quarry and attacked. Volga fled to the north flank of death mountain, his scaly hide full of arrows and roared in anguish. 

And so the Dragon Knight Volga disappeared never to be seen again. His nephew claiming Lordship over Akkala. 

A century passed and the Dragon Volvagia became a scary bedtime story for children. Should you wander into the shadow of Death Mountain, into the Badlands with it’s great skeletons, the fiery Wyrm shall devour you. Here is where the fallen warrior lay dormant, wallowing in memories long gone of honourable battle and the hunt.

Until the Evil Gerudo King Ganondorf found him and using the Triforce of Power, twisted what remained of the Hylian Warrior into the hungry raging monster. He commanded the dragon to rule over Death Mountain and bring the Gorons to heel. 

Soon a young man with a faerie challenged him. The battle was vicious as it raged in the molten depths of the Fire Temple. Wielding the legendary hammer of the Gorons, Link shattered the scales of the monster before delivering the final blow with the Master Sword. The dragon’s head rolled to the ground, and much to the horror of the boy, it transformed into the head of a man. 

Every being that had fallen on his sword had been a monster, a being created by evil, but not this time. Lifeless green eyes stared up at him and something broke within. He had spilled the blood of a man.

Ganondorf fell, and time reset and the dragon awakened in it’s cave. A haunted dream to add to his meaningless existence of hunting animals for meat.

Ten years passed until one day two Hylians entered his den. Roaring and breathing fire he engaged to push them from his territory but they held firm with skill and magic. Face to face he came with a young man whose features struck a chord in the back of his mind, of a boy, a hammer and crushing pain. 

But before he could turn the figure to ash it was the other young man dressed as Sheikah that called him by his name, his true name which had not been uttered in a century. The two Hylians then lifted their hands and the dragon was blinded by Golden light and when he opened his eyes he knelt on the floor, a man once more. 

Bested in battle by these fearless warriors, whom broke his curse, he swore his fealty to them and took an oath to be a guardian of the Spring of Power, to atone for his original sin. 

A new ally honour bound to her service was to be an asset to the Princess, for those who ruled Akkala were a source of corruption in her Court that she wished to root out. A trusted heir to the throne of Akkala would be useful and perhaps could help her bring down the current Lord, Volga’s great-great nephew…

It was a warm summer day in Castle Town. The sky was a brilliant blue, and the breeze was gentle and cool as it flowed through the bustling streets keeping the temperature pleasant. It was noisy and alive with the shouts of merchants, the laughter of children and the clinking of chainmail from the guards on patrol.

Walking through the crowds, deep in thought was Shad. He hadn’t noticed the weather or the cheerful buzz of the world around him and he artfully dodged around all the people with a skill only learnt by those who had spent their life in town. 

After a short walk he came to his destination, the bridge at the north end of town that lead to Hyrule Castle. Here he sat on a nearby bench and pulled a very tattered book out of his satchel. The book’s cover was relatively new, and was one of the few things keeping together the burnt pages. He untied the leather cord that held the cover shut and re-read the letter inside for what must be the hundredth time in the past three days.

When the Historian’s Guild revoked your late Father’s membership they attempted to destroy his offending work. I managed to save most of it. It is time it was returned to you. Some truths should not remain buried. 

Should this interest you, a trusted friend will meet you in two days time at Castle Bridge at noon. 

Shad was very interested. He had spent his whole life fascinated by the history of Hyrule and his Father’s research. Many of his favourite memories as a boy involved running down the enormous bookcases of the Castle Library while his father worked and the stories he would tell of their ancient land. 

His father never told him why he was cast out from the Guild, forbidden from returning to the Castle. A difference of opinion was as much as he would reveal. He went on to open a bookshop in town where he stayed until he passed from illness a few months ago. Shad had found few references to his Father’s research, he knew that it revolved around the myth of the Sky Kingdom and the Goddess Hylia but there was little evidence left to be found.

That is until two days ago when he woke up in the morning to find the book on his bedside table. Any fear he had about a stranger breaking into his house while he slept was quickly forgotten in light of the book containing his father’s lost research. While many pages were destroyed, there were enough sketches and musings left to get him started. He was hoping that whoever he was meant to meet could fill in the blanks. 

He didn’t need to wait long when he was shaken from his thoughts by a hearty chuckle.

“Shad dear boy! Look at you! How time flies.” The voice belonged to a very old man in a long robe. He shuffled along with the aid of a walking stick, back bowed but eyes twinkling behind thick glasses and bushy eyebrows. 

“He-hello sir” Shad replied standing to his feet and giving a polite bow. “Forgive me I-“

“Don’t remember me? Do not fret I didn’t expect you to, after all the last time we met you were but a little lad playing hide and seek amongst the bookcases. I am Lord Rodamus, retired Royal tutor and member of the Historian’s Guild.” He then gave a playful wink. “A dear friend told me i’d find you here.” 

“It is a pleasure sir. May i ask to who this friend is?”

“You would not know them personally if that is what you are wondering.”

Shad’s list of questions just got bigger but there was a more immediate one that was pressing on him.

“I must confess Sir I’m confused as to why you are interested in helping me with this? This book’s destruction was ordered by the Historian’s Guild…”

Rodamus smiled. “Academia is a war zone of opinion dear boy. It forms the foundation of society itself.” He proceeded to tap the cover of the book with a gnarled finger. “So when new ideas crop up that threaten the very meaning of our world and the beliefs of those that shaped it, well… fear is a powerful force. Your father had a saying-”.

“The greatest weapon is knowledge.”

“Indeed.” He then looked skyward and took a deep breath of the air, a calm smile on his face. “What a beautiful day it is, I hope you don’t mind humouring an old man by going for a wander.” 

“I’d be happy to sir.”

“Wonderful!”

**

If Shad was being honest, he had no idea how to react to the situation. Last week his life revolved around running his Father’s bookshop, reading and dreaming about adventures contained within. Then he received a book so ideologically dangerous that the Historian’s Guild had once tried to destroy it. Now he was following a tottery old man about town as he made delighted noises at stalls as though he hadn’t left the Castle in years. He probably hadn’t.

Eventually they came to a stop in the square behind The Temple of the Goddesses, a hub of architectural beauty in the heart of Castle Town’s more affluent district. Rodamus found himself a seat on a low stone wall facing the impressive sculpture carved into the back wall of the Temple. Three thirty foot circular arches bordered by elaborate marble columns contained gold leaf encrusted mosaics of the Golden goddesses, towering over the fountain before them. Before the central mosaic of Din the Goddess of Power was a smaller, yet still towering marble sculpture of the Goddess Hylia. Her two enormous wings swept forward to curve around the feet of the smaller armour clad figure of the Hero of Time.  He stood upon a plinth above the water, cape carved to float behind him. The legendary Master sword lifted high infront of him.

Shad had seen it before of course, it was one of the greatest artistic accomplishments of last century. He wasn’t as awestruck by it as most were, he found it gaudy. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Rodamus who was gazing in appreciation at it. One of the pages in his father’s notes had contained a sketch of the fountain and while many of the written notes had faded or had burnt, one remaining word had stood out, likely as the quill had pressed so hard it had practically tore through. 

Lies.

“Impressive isn’t it? Commissioned by Queen Zelda the XIX one hundred and eighty years ago, it is one of the few pieces of Hylian Art depicting the Hero of Time. Most consider him a myth, a bedtime story for children. Apparently the knight was meant to be a simple representation of the Hylian army, hence the shape of the armour. However stories have floated around since then that the Queen convinced the the sculptor to render the Master sword in his hand which was only revealed to the clergy on completion. It was an enormous controversy of course.”

Shad’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I don’t understand, the Hero has always been a figure of Temple canon why would this create controversy?”

“Because no one can agree anymore on the hero as an idea. The priests once preached that the Goddess Hylia chose a hero of great courage to be her champion. Upon his sacrificial death she chose to relinquish her divinity and pour her light into the future, choosing a vessel to carry her power. To fight beside her champion when evil rose once more. It is a lovely tale, promising that we will always be protected at the hands of Hylia.”

“The vessel of Hylia is said to be a position passed down amongst the women of the Royal Bloodline. This is the main explanation as to why there has always been potent magic. It looks good for the Royal family as well, it is hard to distrust a sovereign that may be blessed directly by the divine.”

“In the end the scholarly debate comes down to symbolism. The story of the hero is often told as a person of great valour to serve, a position anyone can aspire to be. It’s an idea deep within the ideals of our military, our protectors. The heroism and bravery to serve Hyrule.”

Rodamus turned to Shad.

“To understand why this particular statue angered the clergy so is because it was altered by a Queen in direct position to the plan. And in doing so it brought back memories from the past that were believed to be long buried.”

With a grunt, Rodamus rose to his tottery feet. “that of course is another story, one that your father like the Queen, attempted to bring back into the light.”

Shad had also risen to his feet. “Please tell me.”

Rodamus smiled, “Why don’t I show you?”

***

It had been a slow walk back to the Castle, with frequent rests and side distractions. The Guards didn’t react as they crossed the bridge, passing onto the great stone edifice of Hyrule Castle. Shad presumed they would head to the Library, which housed some of the greatest knowledge of Hyrule, but he was wrong. Instead they wound slowly down through long forgotten stairwells, where dust clung to every surface and spiders spun grand webs. It was through hidden doors behind moth bitten tapestries and deep into the rock itself that they found themselves after a time before a door. Rodamus pulled out of his robe a very rusted key and with much struggling finally managed to open it.

The mystery of the decent into the depths of the castle had Shad practically bouncing in barely concealed excitement, this left him almost immediately as the door opened onto an abandoned storeroom. It appeared to contain mostly furniture, some pieces draped in heavy and moth-eaten cloth. It was mouldy too, and Shad jumped as an enormous rat scuttled over his boots. 

Rodamus didn’t seem to pay this any mind as he edged his way through the mounds of broken wood to the back corner where a sheet was draped over something. The cloth had been removed recently as there were only remnants of broken web clinging to it. Rodamus snapped his fingers near a new looking candlestick which leapt into flame, illuminating the room. He turned to Shad with the look of a teacher about to start a lecture. Shad leaned forward eagerly.

“Up until seven centuries ago the story of the Hero of Time was told differently. He featured quite frequently in art, which is one of the reasons we have a common understanding of the appearance of the Master Sword. Of course scholars these days raise the theory that artists could have simply copied each other as no one in recorded history can prove beyond a reasonable doubt that it ever existed. That of course is another debate I will bore you with another time.”

“Now do you know who was on the throne seven centuries ago, albeit briefly?”

Shad had already done the math. Once he read something, he rarely forgot a detail. “Queen Zelda XIII.”

“Also known as…”

“The Mad Queen.”

“Correct. According to history she suffered from terrible dreams, some say the dreams of prophecy, others memory. Either way she was often sickly and struggled to commit to the simplest of duties. Her brothers had passed from the plague and when her father joined them the Council had no choice but to crown her Queen. The magic of the bloodline of course had to continue. They eventually managed to convince her to marry a man of their choice who went on to solely rule the kingdom. In time she bore him a son and the bloodline was secured.”

“Now she was referred to as the Mad Queen because she was often lost to her dreams and visions. Reports found deep in the royal archive from her doctors refer to her as frequently delusional and prone to hallucination. As she grew older the worse these delusions became. She would frequently be found screaming about her sisters’ betrayal despite only having brothers and a lover that they took from her. There is no evidence either to suggest she had a secret lover as she was watched far too closely.”

The room fell silent as the words hung in the musty air for a moment.

“You’re probably wondering what any of this has to do with art and history?” Rodamus looked like an excitable boy about to drop a big secret. He started to whisper.

“This all resulted in the Queen doing something that would forever change the Temple’s relationship with the Hero of Time.”

Shad was perplexed. “How?”

“Are you familiar with the Temple of Time on the Great Plateau?”

“Yes, I have been many times. It’s the Oldest Temple in Hyrule dedicated to Hylia. It houses the largest statue of her in existence.”

“One of the oldest, others have been lost to time’s embrace. Statues of Hylia exist all across our land and are usually depicted the same, yet this one is different and i’m not referring to her size.”

Shad closed his eyes, as he did so the Temple came into view. Tiny details sprung up, the smell of the stone, the empty window frames. Hylia rose above him her smiling face carved simply into the rock. Shad looked for something odd and eventually it clicked.

“Her hands are positioned differently. Her left palm is open facing the roof and her right palm is facing outwards as though giving a blessing. Her hands are usually clasped in prayer.”

“Praying to her elder sisters the Golden Three for our safekeeping. Many depict her as a passive mother figure these days and forget she was once a fighter. Her left palm is flat and open because she used to hold something.”

It was then with a grin that Rodamus grabbed hold of the draping cloth and removed it in a cloud of dust.

Shad’s eyes widened as he took in what stood before him. It was a very old statue of a man standing upon a slab of stone. He was dressed in draped cloth like the ancient soldiers of Hyrule, a round shield strapped to his right arm and in his left raised high, was the Master Sword. 

“The Great statue of Hylia once held the Hero of Time?” 

“She did. Raised high above the floor where he would only be a glimpse from those worshippers far below. A man held above the common people. It is a true wonder of scale the statue was when complete considering he is life sized.”

Shad looked at the statue who only matched his own average height because it was standing upon a stone slab. He was usually depicted as a towering man “Life sized? I suppose people were shorter back then.”

Rodamus laughed. “Perhaps, or maybe the storytellers didn’t think it sounded impressive for a small petite man to do big things. Do you notice anything else unusual?”  

“You can see his face, it is always covered by a helmet or the raised sword in paintings. Father once said it was so anyone could stand in his place.” The hero’s face was of a young man, his long hair was held back from his face by a headpiece that rose into the wing shapes associated with Hylia. His draped clothes left part of his chest and arm exposed, the musculature was lean.

Every other depiction of the Hero of Time shared common features, that of what was considered the romantic ideal for a hero. A tall, muscular hulk of a man. This was not it.

“Why is it here? why was it never returned to the Temple.”

“Because the Queen changed the story. She had it removed from the Temple and brought to her chambers in secret. When they tried to remove it she would apparently scream and claw at people. She claimed he was her lover, they had all betrayed him and she would keep him safe until their next life. They would finally be together.”

“They did eventually remove the statue and the poor woman threw herself from the northern battlements. No one likes to go there even to this day. They say at dawn you can hear her ghost wailing, though any architect will tell you it is simply the wind passing through the balustrade.”

“The damage had been done however. There were always legends about the hero’s soul being immortal, that throughout history he was in fact the same man reborn. Which of course creates problems for the story.“

“How so? What does it change?”

“If the Queens of Hyrule are a vessel of Hylia’s being, and are therefore what remains of her actual self… Then what does it mean for a Goddess to romantically love a mortal man?”

“So they removed him from the canon?”

“They tried.”

Shad was silent for a time, Rodamus had pulled a pipe from his robe and was puffing peacefully. 

“Is this what got my Father dismissed? A theory about the Goddess loving the hero instead of simply blessing him?”

“What got him dismissed was what this theory meant. That our divine Goddess, protector of our kingdom, mother to us all was at her very core simply a woman who fell in love with a man.” 

Rodamus’s lips curved into a sly grin,

“How blasphemous, to insinuate that a Goddess could fall so low as to relate to us sinners.”

***

Night had fallen by the time Shad had left the Castle. Candles were glowing in windows as families arrived home and the hearty smell of dinner flooded the streets. He barely remembered the walk to his own house, his feet moving on their own accord as his mind was spinning around chaotically.  He was passing into a dim alleyway behind his shop when he was shaken from his musings by the plucking of harp strings.

His eyes shot around looking for the source as the melodious sounds bounced across the walls. As the music slowed and began to quieten a silhouetted figure emerged from behind a chimney overlooking the alley. Fingers danced nimbly across the harp strings as the song came to an end.

Shad felt his body freeze as part of the figure edged into the dim light cast by a lantern at the alley entrance. Their face was buried in a scarf and hair wrapped in cloth, light body armour clung to a slight yet masculine looking frame and rows of sharp knives were buckled to their waist and thighs. A faded Sheikah eye was emblazoned on the chest plate. Shad recognised them immediately, for their image graced legions of wanted posters hung from almost every wall in town.

Sheik the Bard. Assassin, Thief, Dangerous. 

And now staring at him in an empty alley with one eyebrow raised in amusement at his shaking. 

Sheik glanced away over the sea of rooftops as though lost in thought,

“The flow of time is cruel. Truths are buried beneath the stones flung by the arrogant and weak minded. The righteous who sacrifice themselves for the good of mankind are simply erased with ink and quill.” 

They idly stroked a few strings, releasing discordant notes into the night. 

“Your father tried to lift one of these stones and like many before him was buried beneath more. The mound becomes greater until it forms a monument of lies which casts a shadow to consume us all. It is time for the monument to fall, and for a son to continue what a father began…”

Sheik turned to him once again.

“By digging at its foundation.”

Shad, full of fear found the courage to unclench his jaw. “It was you… you left my father’s research for me.”

“Some things are meant to be found, by the right people.”

“Like you?”

“People like you, hungry for the truth. When you dwell in the shadows like I do, you must open your eyes wide to see what’s before you. That book told me nothing I didn’t already know.”

Shad was silent. This was absurd. The most dangerous person in Castle Town had been in his home and was now sprouting riddles about the state of Hylian Society. On top of that they were clearly in league with the former Royal Tutor. 

“Why tell me all this?! I run a book shop. I’ll be honest i’m glad to finally know what caused my father’s dismissal, but what can I do about it now? How can I change anything, who would even care!?”

The ground trembled only silently as Sheik leapt from the roof to land silently before him. He jumped back until he was pressed against the brickwork. They stepped forward into his personal space. They were a similar height and their green eyes bore straight through the lenses of his glasses.

“I have watched you for a while now Shad. Witnessed your passion for knowledge, seen you give books to those who cannot buy, seen you teach those who cannot read. I can see in your eyes that you want what all scholars want. You want to know more about everything your eyes and your heart touches. You want to understand.”

They held up the book that they had clearly pickpocketed from Shad’s bag without him noticing.

“It is against your nature to put this book on a shelf and leave it to collect dust. Not when it leads to so many unanswered questions. Which is why I have started you on this path of discovery.” 

Shad glanced down as his boots fear was welling up in him again but for different reasons.

“Why me? There must be hundreds of people more qualified to look into this. The furthest i’ve been from home is the Great Plateau. I trip over my boots at least once a day, I’m allergic to most animals and have barely held a sword. What could I do?”

Sheik’s eyes softened. “In my experience, it is the people you least expect that have the power to change everything for the better.”