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The Cycle's End	By : Catbeastaisha Category: Zelda > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 4860 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Legend of Zelda game series, nor any of the characters from them. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter Two: A Hero’s Call

“Nothing can stop the flow of time or the passing of generations… but the fate carried within my bloodline endures the ravages of all the years. It survives.”
            -Laruto, The Wind Waker

            I followed the subtle undertones of Dark Arts as though they were the current itself. Someone was trying to mask their usage, have it go unknown and unnoticed, but I had not lived for so long without learning the difference between that which is hidden and that which is revealed to disguise what is actually taking place. I could feel the spell trying to mask the Dark Arts, the spell strong, but not strong enough to hide the flavor of the magic it was concealing.

            The Dark Arts, an acidic smelling magic that held sulfur and suffering in its core, only grew a stronger flavor the more potent and harmful its spell. This allowed me to roughly gauge the degree of the spells… but I still could not place the direct location of it. It would come in and out of existence, being there then vanishing, making me question if it was there or not. The scent of smoke and drums, it too faded in and out, only serving to increase my agitation. Had I or had I not found my farkas?

            The wind was still, following the prophecy that Kaula had written. Yet, the air was no more heavy or lighter than any other time so I had no way to determine if that part had come to pass or if it was just thrown in there like so many other things, a scrawl of nonsense.

            The feel of death? Was that the Dark Arts? And if it was leading me, how could I arrive first?

            Staring out, the sun was almost done setting, just a few rays reflecting over the water. That was all I could see, water. No sign of land or ship, bird or other indicator of anyone living here or near here. And yet… I could smell the smoke and hear the drums, albeit infrequently. My hearing, while good, should not be able to pick up a sound without an origin, nor my nose able to smell smoke without a fire. And yet…

            That is when I learned what Kaula meant by the “heaviness in the air.”

            A sudden force slammed into me, pushing me down, crushing me with its invisible weight. I could hear the wood crack under my feet, my body unable to remain upright, forcing me to fall to one knee. Through bleary eyes, I saw the wind or air, whichever name you wish to call it, actually “tremble” before my eyes shut and I fell unconscious.

=*=*=*=

            My head felt like mini Gorons were inside of it, tossing Bomb Flowers at the walls of my skull.

            “Fuck.” Was that the feel of death? If so, where had it lead me to?

            Dragging myself up right, I was able to use the side of the boat for support. I was somewhat disoriented from the throbbing inside my head, but otherwise I seemed fine. Though…

            Lifting my head higher, I was able to discern that the sun had completely set. Given the position of the moon, I’d been out for at least three hours. The smell of smoke was thicker in the air and I could see a light from the distance. Fire?

Focusing, ignoring the booming in my head that might be causing me to miss the sound of drums, I urged the water to carry me towards the light.

=*=*=*=

            I secured my boat near a rocky inlet, certain that it would be safe from most passersby, monsters, human, or other. I was reluctant to leave it, not certain what I would find once I ventured forth on this island. If getting here had pained me so, what else awaited me?

            My hands were flexing at my sides as I gazed towards the light. If my nose was right, it was a fire of some sort. The drums, easily heard now that my head had stopped aching, signaled a festival or activity of some sort, as opposed to a raid or accidental flame. Still, I would not go unarmed.

            Summoning my sword from the shadows, along with its scabbard, I strapped the belt on, making sure it was within easy reach. I paused a moment, trying to see if anyone had noticed the use of Dark Arts but either the magician hadn’t noticed or didn’t deem it worth importance. Perhaps they didn’t know how to sense others’ Dark Arts? Still, I wouldn’t rely on that. It would be best to keep my use to a minimum. I didn’t want anything deterring me from finding my farkas.

            Departing from my vessel, I had to take a few moments to reestablish that I was no longer traveling the sea. Within several steps I was able to regain my land legs, turning my attention back to the task at hand.

            A shadow beast would be the easiest way to get information, a bird or perhaps a fox, but the requirements for such a spell involved the fur or feather of the beast, none of which I had on hand, and it might garner the attention of the Dark Arts user, something I could not afford. Listening to my farkas’ song was out of the question as well, the size of the island was substantial, meaning it was most likely inhabited by too many individuals too successfully pick out my farkas’ song.

            I would have go and seek out my farkas myself.

=*=*=*=

            Once I got out of the cove, I proceeded to head towards the fire. The closer I drew to it, the louder the drums beat till I could feel them pounding not only around me, but within me. Other instruments, something along the lines of a lyre or harp, a lute, and, if I was not mistaken, a bladder pipe (trust me, you know one when you hear it) joined along with it, weaving a melody to the pounding of the drums. The chatter of voices was distant and indistinguishable, leaving me with little guess as to language or how many beings were present (much less if they were human, Goron, Zora, or other).

            When I was less than forty feet away, I began to move along the shadows, a tricky feat the closer I would come to the flame light. This was not a Dark Art, not exactly. It was more of a specialty I had discovered myself capable of. By staying in the shadows, I could go unseen without having to actually become part of the shadow, similar to how I had hidden from my farkas upon our first encounter (though it was trickier to hide that time, what with only the slimiest shiver of a shadow on the tree, thus requiring a little magic to succeed). It was problematic, at best, for if the light dissolved the shadows or someone walked directly into the shadows, I would be exposed. Unfortunately, it was the best I could devise at such a time, without using Dark Arts or Illusion Spells, both of which might be detectable.

            Finally, I was able to get about thirteen feet away while remaining out of the fire’s light, able to observe those beings present.

            Human, as far as I could tell. They lacked the telltale “fairy ears” of the Hylians, nor were they as fair of skin and looks. They had hair of earth tones, browns and blacks with a few reds, skin ranging from tan to slightly darker. They might call themselves another name but they were close enough to human that I let it be at that. The females were sitting on logs near the fire, chatting amongst themselves in common, laughing, some holding small children while other bratlings chased each other around the parents. Several males were also standing around, chuckling and gesturing, seeming to be telling stories about some trivial thing or another. The musicians, though I give them that title grudgingly, were playing still, a few of the not quite adults but no longer children dancing and stealing kisses when they thought their parents eyes were turned.

            Yes. Fascinating.

            With a slight roll of my eyes, I turned to leave, feeling my teeth clenching as my lip curled. Perhaps this was a wild cuckoo chase after all, I should have never let that bitch die till after I had gotten my farkas… now I could not question her to be sure-

            A mangled cry, sounding like both beast and man bellowed over the chatter and music, causing silence to fall before startled shrieks arouse. Again, the horrid cry sounded and my sword was drawn, held steady to see what demon or monster had managed to approach without my notice.

            I could feel my left temple pulse when the screams gave way to laughter, a man wearing a grotesque boar mask and cloak moving from one person to another, pretending to attack while the “victim” gave a earnest scream before “dying.” Twisting my sword in my hand, I debated very briefly on granting these humans their desire of death yet my temptation was curbed when the boar grabbed a young female human wearing a crown.

            This… was familiar.

            The crown was made of nothing so fancy as gold, nor did it hold any sparkle or luster. Perhaps it was made of paper or a duller metal but it was a crown, none the less, and the red headed “princess” did a very good job of making a fuss as the boar-beast threw her over his shoulder and proceeded to kidnap her, much to the pleasure of the laughing audience.

            It was then that a howl, fierce and raw rang out.

            Another human in a mask, this time, that of a wolf, came out from the crowd. He was dressed in green clothing, clothing I’d seen worn a thousand times before, wielding a sword against the beast. I couldn’t breathe as I watched the play going on before me.

            The boar-beast set down the girl, gentler than a true monster would have, and the princess didn’t make to flee but watched as the wolf-man and boar-beast circled each other around the flames. The boar-beast drew a sword, or was given one from the crowd, I’m not sure, and the two began to fight. The heavy clang of metal on metal proved the swords they used were no mere decoration, the motions fluid as they blocked and swung, dancing before the shadows and flames, till finally the wolf-man ran his sword into the boar-beast (which, in reality, slid between the boar-beast’s arm and body, out of sight of the audience). The boar-beast actually did a convincing show of falling to his knees, but I was more focused on the victory howl the wolf-man gave, raising his sword in triumph, as the crowd stomped their feet, whistling and cheering. Willing him to remove his mask, I was just able to contain myself from rushing forth from the shadows when that red headed “princess” rushed forward into his arms, laughing and hugging him to her.

            The sudden explosion that crackled from the heavens made me do a double take. While conveniently throwing them apart, that wasn’t my doing…

            Laughter turned to gasps of dismay and alarm, the humans pointing up at the sky as dark clouds began to circle, covering the stars and full moon, taking shape of his face, the man’s.

            I held my ground, not wanting him to know of my presence if he didn’t already.

            His laughter boomed as thunder, lightening racing across the black yet faintly violet clouds that formed his face. His voice was distorted but I remembered it well enough that I knew there was no mistaking him.

            “That legend… is going to change.”

            A jagged bolt of lightening struck the closest tree nearby, illuminating the area with a flash of white as the tree shattered into splinters and flames. The humans panicked, grabbing the children and leaving the instruments, scattering like ants and fleeing to their holes.

            Save for one.

            Pulling back the wolf mask, letting it rest atop his head, blue eyes shown in the flames reflection, golden hair slipping past the mask and hat. Sword held steady in his hands, he lifted his head towards the face in the sky, eyes narrowed as though trying to figure out how to fight such an enemy. The face in the cloud sneered at him, growing larger and closer before laughing as he, my farkas, remained steadfast, never faltering.

            “You want a piece of me? How amusing, I like your attitude...” The laughing face suddenly gave way to a smile that was more deadly than friendly, a flicker of white along the edge of his face the only warning sign as another bolt of lightening came cascading down, his voice just echoing over the thunder. “Fool! Don’t you realize who I am?!”

                        “Beware. His soul, corrupt as it is, will know him, even though his mind
                        will not. His vengeance will lash out and strike him like a white serpent.
                        Quick, and deadly.”

                        -Page 23, Kaula’s Book

            Abandoning the shadows, my cover most likely having been blown from the flash of lightening anyway, I tackled into my farkas, knocking both of us enough distance away that when the lightening stuck we were only hit by clods of dirt and small stones. Keeping him covered, not allowing him to rise, I turned my attention towards the cloud who continued to boom and rage, lightening defining his features clearly in the sky, sparking and hissing as it rushed through the air. He seemed so full of himself that he didn’t seem to notice that he’d missed his target.

            “I am Ganondorf! And soon, I will rule this world!”

            The lightening leapt from the sky, racing down and striking around us. I didn’t dare to throw up a defense, just in case he stop firing randomly and start focusing his attacks. Keeping my farkas’ head covered, I could feel him stop struggling as the ground around us shook, more debris flying over us. I was struck hard by something in my side but I continued to remain atop him, least he suffer from the malicious attack or draw the madman’s attention to us.

            His laughter continued, more like thunder than laughter, but slowly it began to dissipate and I spared another look at the mass. While lightening still danced, the face had slowly begun to sink back into the clouds. I waited until I was absolutely certain he was gone before moving off of my farkas, the pain in my side persisting more than I would have liked. Had it not been so bad, I would have continued to remain atop of him, rejoicing in his song.

            Once off, I was able to examine the aliment more clearly. Somehow, a piece of wood had implanted itself in my side, wedged just between my ribs. It was discomforting, but not life threatening. Had it been Mountain Ash instead of Evergreen, it would have caused a great deal more harm but, thankfully, this was not a piece of the holy tree.

            I moved my hand along my side, feeling the fragment. It was slim, maybe two fingers wide. My own fingers came back wet after touching it. After rubbing the substance together against my thumb and index, I was momentarily stunned to identify it as my blood.

            “Well, that certainly doesn’t happen every day…” Wrapping my hand around the splinter, I kept it firm in my grasp before yanking it out, pleased that I was able to do it so easily.

            I heard him move but didn’t look up just yet, pretending to still be interested in the wound at my side. His song was shaken, but strong. It was almost unnerving, the contrast between his song now, and when I’d listened to its silence so many years ago. Would this song, too, become faint and still?

            I wouldn’t let it.

            “Malon?” His voice held a thread of panic. “Did you see where Malon got to? Or Adri?”

            I have to admit, after waiting for as long as I had, those were not the words I had been hoping to hear from my farkas. I could feel the slight sneer on my lips but tried to hide it, along with the sharp look within my eyes. Kaula was right… he didn’t know me. How could he be expected, then, to rejoice upon seeing me? Or even welcome a stranger?

            The justification did little to settle the small beast within me, clawing at my insides and fueling my anger with its fire, but it did keep me from acting upon its rage.

            “I know of neither,” my voice replied calmly, if a little cold.

            He looked towards the direction where most of the humans had fled, perhaps back to their village. “I’ve got to find them, they might have been hurt…” Turning to face me, he asked, “Did you have anyone here with you? We could look for them together.”

            There was hesitation in his eyes, but not the kind that stemmed from fear. Perhaps from uncertainty, as though I would not accept the offer.

            As if I would be fool enough to leave him by himself…

            “I came here looking for someone,” I admitted slowly, moving my hand to press against the injury at my side. I tried to ignore the slick feel of my own blood, instead, checking the rate at which it was healing. Closing my eyes, I gauged that it should be healed within the next hour or two, if it kept mending at the rate it was.

            “If you know their name, we could ask Adri. He knows most of the people on the island.” I could hear as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, the grass crinkling and the soil shifting when he moved. I opened my eyes, noticing he was intently staring in the same direction as before, the strong desire he had to find “Malon” and “Adri” evident.

            “I would prefer to search on my own, but I will aid you in finding your companions.” I didn’t particularly want to help him find these people… but it would surely make him think well of me, something I could use to get him all to myself one day.

            He cocked his head ever so slightly to the side, as though not fully understanding why I would deny his offer of help yet still be willing to go with him. Rather than ask, he pointed towards the direction that held his attention.

            “I don’t know if they went that way or not, but they have to come back to the village eventually.” He scratched the back of his head, looking thoughtful. The wolf mask was still atop his head, angled a little awkwardly but still whole. “Well, Adri will. Malon might have headed back to the ranch.”

            I merely grunted, having little interest in either person save for their relation to my farkas. Who was Adri? The man in the boar monster’s mask, perhaps? Another villager? If he knew most of the people on the island, perhaps a chief of some sort? A soft snarl curled within the back of my throat. Surely not some foul Sage… What of this “Malon” person? Was she Zelda in a different guise? Some peasant? No, he’d mentioned a ranch, so a sheepherder? Surely not a betrothed or person of interest…

            For her sake, she’d better not be.

            “The village isn’t far, at any rate,” he continued, moving a short distance to retrieve the sword and shield from the festival, both which had been dropped when I’d so… elegantly rescued him. He gave them both a quick glance, checking for defects with such a skilled eye it seemed to belay his youth.

            How old was he anyway?

            As he led the way, I had to ponder this. He looked younger than before, though it could merely be that his spirit (of this time or reincarnation) had not yet been burdened with the crushing weight of fate.

            I was unsure if I looked forward to its coming.

=*=*=*=

            The village we arrived at was more than I’d been expecting yet still lacking. The huts were of sticks and mud, a lower quality material than Kaula’s home had been. I would have expected stone, at least, but perhaps they’d not yet the skills or intelligence to create such things. There was no elegance to the structures, each seemed a replica of the last, though some were a little larger in design, most likely house larger families and several of them were leaning to the side. Pens were near the homes, lean-tos positioned to shelter the animals from the worst of the weather, using one side of the home as a wall rather than building it completely from new supplies. A well was at the center of the town, hazily familiar in its shape and design.

            I was unimpressed but my farkas just led the way without taking notice.

            “This is Shiel,” he mentioned absently, checking for signs of the villagers. “We fish and farm, mainly.” Even as he spoke, I could detect a rising sense of unease from him. I have to admit, there was something about this place that felt… not quite right. But being here for the first time, I had nothing to distinguish what it was. Other than the strangely quiet atmosphere, it seemed nothing more than a typical village.

            “Where is everyone? They should have made it back to the village by now…”

            I answered even though it seemed he wasn’t looking for an answer, just stating the obvious. “Maybe they didn’t come back.”

            “That doesn’t make sense though, everyone should have made there way back here.”

            Suddenly, I realized just what was wrong with this village. Animals, such as goats and sheep, even horses and pigs, during a storm as unusual and loud as this… “Maybe there’s something here that’s worse than the lightening, kicsi farkas.”

            “Kic- what?”

            He turned to look at me, but his attention suddenly became diverted as a large form slammed down into the ground before him. Three more similar thuds, one near him, two near me, and we had our answer as to why the villagers hadn’t returned.

            And the silence of the animals and those humans that had.

            Our opponents were large, at least two heads taller than ourselves, shoulders wider, covered with shoulder armor. A crooked sword was held in one hand, a shield in the other, and a maniacal red gleam in their eyes. Scraps of clothing covered their waist, cloth gloves and shoes, all frayed and worn, a blue the color of the ocean right before a storm.

            That, and their bones were a brilliant gray against the night.

            The two skeletal beings closest to my farkas began attacking immediately, giving a surprisingly hearty, if not eerie, laugh for one without lungs. Sword already in hand, I watched the two who hovered near me, holding their swords at the ready but not yet making to attack.

            One took a step forward, still with his sword by his side, speaking in a deep voice that wheezed, sounding like leaves scraping over a tombstone.

            “Master… what are you doing here?”

            “I’m not your master,” I replied swiftly, tensing as it came closer still. One more step, and it would be nothing more than bone dust.

            The skeleton rubbed its head with its shield, considering my words before shaking its head, a simple sort, it seemed. I suppose lacking a brain could do that to a… undead. “A term of respect, Master. You are one of the elite, aren’t you? Our Lord’s chosen?”

            “No. I am my own.”

            “Ahh.” This came out as a long sigh, sounding so familiar to a final breath. “You have his gift though…” The skeleton turned its head back, watching its comrades fighting with my farkas. I spared a quick look as well, my farkas seemed to be holding off their blows, dodging skillfully, but his attacks were blocked as well. “Did you come to help? We do not need it. This village shall be ours soon.”

            “What do you mean?”

            He turned his coal like eyes back to me, the red still shimmering in them. “Our Lord, his plans come to fruition. You should join us, you have his gift…” There was a sound of grating, the skeleton grinding what few teeth he had left together. “We can’t let you betray our Lord… it would be better for you to join and be part of the glory.”

            At that, I scoffed.

            “I have no desire for his glory, I seek only that which was taken from me.” Tightening the grip on my sword, I gave a slender grin. “And now that I have found it, I will eliminate any who threaten it, princess, pig, or gods.”

            His whole body rattled and shook, his eyes flaring even brighter. “So be it, foolish one.” With a cry similar to his companions, both he and his partner leapt at me, swords swinging down in what would be a killing blow…

            If I had sat still sipping tea, maybe.

            A quick flip back and their swords came crashing with a large thud into the earth. Picking the skeleton to the right as the first to be eliminated, I rushed forward, attempting to hit it while it pulled out its sword. My sword rebounded off its shield, the other skeleton recovering first to make a swing for me but missing.

            Not having skin or muscles really increased ones speed…

            I had no shield to raise and felt surprisingly vulnerable without it. I didn’t let it show, instead, watching both as they shuffled from side to side, preparing to come after me again.

            They used the same attack as before, covering the distance between myself and them with a single jump, using the motion to follow through with their swords. A quick dodge to the side and I aimed for the exposed back of the one closest to me. A garbled shout of pain came from him, startling since it ought not feel pain, what with no nerves (perhaps the magic used to animate it contributed to its ability to talk and feel pain?). Angered, it swung at me, the attack wide and leaving it open for another hit, this time at the chest. With a final cry, it disintegrated in a flash of flames, leaving the weapons and clothing in a heap of dust, small containers shaped like hearts, filled with red liquid also in the stack.

            I didn’t have time to examine them, the other skeleton had used the opportunity of its comrades defeat to try and sever my head from my neck. Whirling, I caught his blade with mine, unable to stop it due to my momentum, but able to redirect it so it slid off of my blade and harmlessly away.

            “Farkas! Aim for their backs!” I wasn’t sure if my shout would be heard, I needed to hurry this up before my farkas grew tired. These undead would keep attacking till he was worn down, then finish him, something I would not allow.

            The skeleton before me proved more of a challenge than its companion, blocking my attacks successfully with its shield each time I initiated a volley of quick thrusts and slashes. Finally, I backed away, waiting for an opening.

            Sure enough, no sooner had I backed away then he lunged, aiming the sword for where my heart would be. I allowed myself to laugh, meeting his attack by running forward, leaning to the side, and severing his arm as I passed by. Dumbfounded, he watched as his sword slammed into one of the houses, embedding itself, his bony hand still gripping the sword tightly as useless arm swung side to side. Staring at his arm, then his stump, his mouth kind of went slack, as though he’d never considered this out come.

            It was the same look he had on his face as I slammed my sword up through his skull.

            “Why… Ma…ster…?”

            He was already burning as the magic left him, blue and yellow flames licking up from his feet and turning him into dust. I gave no answer to his question, just watching as only his physical possessions remained. Now, finally done with those two, I turned my attention solely towards helping my farkas… who apparently didn’t need my assistance.

            He was breathing heavily, almost completely slumped forward, two piles of remains were near. When I approached, I could smell the scent of his blood, calling me closer. Before I knew it, my hands were on him, touching the rips along his clothing, the wounds by his face and arms. He lifted his head to look up at me, his blue eyes worn but still bright, my farkas, alive. Reaching for me, he used my strength to steady himself, panting softly in a way that had me thinking of another time. Leaning closer, I was about to claim his lips with mine when he spoke,

            “Wha…what were those things?”

            Torn between irritation at wanting to kiss him senseless then fuck him into the ground and the rationality that other enemies could still be around, I heaved out a growl.

            “Stalfos, probably. I wouldn’t know for certain.” I pulled away from him, leaving him to stand on his own two feet while I looked over the remains for anything of use. The heart canisters, in particular, intrigued me. Lifting one up, I was startled when it vanished, feeling it being absorbed into me. Ready to purge it out with my own Arts, I was surprised to find the wound in my side no longer ached. A quick inspection led me to find that it was all but healed. Selecting another of the canisters, it too vanished, the wound on my side completely recovered so not even a scab or scar remained.

            “Kicsi farkas, try using one of these.” I pointed to two of the remaining heart shaped vials that were closest. “They should help.”

            “You keep saying that, what does it mean?”

            He moved forward, touching one of the vials. Normally, I wouldn’t advise taking anything off corpses, not knowing if there was a trap set up after their death, but having experienced the healing for myself from the canister, I expected nothing of ill to harm him. Indeed, after using two, he was breathing easier and seemed to be a shade healthier. I would have had him take another, but it seemed the healing magic from them was short lived and they faded after so much time.

            Rather than answer him, I turned away, nodding my head away from the village.

            “Come. We shouldn’t stay here.”

            I started to move but paused, looking back when I noticed he wasn’t following.

            Sword drawn, he looked at me with the same defiance I had once seen in his eyes so many eons ago. “Who are you?”

            I looked at the sword to the boy, noticing the slight tremble of the blade as he held it. This was not a fight he wanted, one he knew he would lose if he pressed the issue, but he still had the courage to attempt it. Exhaling, I sighed, turning my sight away from him and towards the ocean.

            “Who am I?” I repeated slowly, half shutting my eyes as I contemplated that simple question.

            “You were there when the lightening came, and the man appeared in the sky.” That startled me, I thought for sure I’d gone unobserved. “The skeletons, the Stalfos… you knew what they were and how to fight them, they called you master…” His grip tightened and the sword was suddenly held still, as though he’d reached a decision. “Who. Are. You?”

            There was a moment of silence before I laughed, bitterness evident. “I? I am shadow of my former self, someone who was once greatly feared and respected in the same breath, one who was banished by the goddesses and sealed by the sages.” I faced him fully, sheathing my sword, having no desire to fight my farkas, knowing I would win utterly at this point and there would be no challenge to it. “I am not the one who attacked you, nor do I desire to destroy you.”

            I could see him weigh my words in his mind, testing them for truth and, upon reaching the conclusion they were true, deciding what to do with them.

            Thankfully, he was interrupted before reaching his conclusion.

            The earth moved out from under me, the same happening to him, as a large tremor cracked the ground beneath us, splintering the land upward. Jagged forms of rocks crashed through the house closest to us, rendering it into a pile of useless debris. The Stalfos’ words came to mind.

            Was this the man’s plan?

            I couldn’t keep my balance, the ground rolling under my feet, throwing me upward. I came down hard, opting to stay there rather than move. Glancing hastily for my farkas, I was momentarily distracted by something to the south. I couldn’t focus properly, my vision as shaky as my balance, but it almost appeared as though something was rising from the ocean.

            In that moment, I was there, my body being shook like a monster with a child in its mouth, and yet I was not. Things, for one split moment, one tiny second, slowed down. In that span of time, I saw something important. Something I knew was vital…

            And yet I had no notion as to what it was.

            Before I could focus, try and examine what I saw or thought I saw, time caught up with me, the shaking suddenly more intense than before. I thought I could hear roaring in the distance, the sound of something shattering, but perhaps it was just another of the houses being smashed.

            The ground gradually settled and I hurried to stand, my feet unable to support me steadily as I tried to affix my gaze on the island or what I’d seen on the island that seemed so significant…

            But I couldn’t see anything.

            There was a shape obscuring the island from view, something cloudy, stretching outward, coming inland in a way that didn’t appear as though it was natural. It was too quick, too focused in its movements. Worse yet…

            It was growing steadily closer.

                        “Do not let it touch him! You, who are still held by his magic, will not be harmed.
                        But him… he will become a slave to the evil, should he traipse
                         into that realm of murk.”

                        -Page 12, Kaula’s Book, next to a scribble of a cloud with horns
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The Cycle's End

Chapter Two: A Hero’s Call