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The Legend of Zelda : Twisted Legacy	By : Gamesplayers Category: Zelda > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2177 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Legend of Zelda except my own, original characters, and I make no profit out of this fanfiction, nor any other.

Chapter List
- 1-The Legend of Zelda : Twisted Legacy
- 2-I
- 3-II
- 4-III
- 5-IV
- 6-V
- 7-VI
- 8-VII
- 9-VIII
- 10-IX
- 3
- 4
- 5
III
Almost the totality of Isca's men had been deployed around the slums. Theywere hunting a man who had just attempted a robbery that had turned badly. He had, in the end, sacked the shop and killed the poor man. The merchant had been working alone that day because his wife had stayed home to take care of her sick children. The family had been lucky, in some way.
Isca had seen the crime scene. It wasn't his first case of murder, and it wasn't the first time he was looking at a savagely slain man. But, knowing that he had a family who'd be left alone from then on hit a sensitive chord in him.
The asshole who had killed him for a few rupees would be punished, and severely.
Soon after the event, the murderer had been seen going to the slums. He had blood all over him. He was a small man of bad health and who moved with difficulty, and he was known throughout the city as a lowly thief.
However, the guards had a hard time finding him. Apparently, he knew the slums better than any of them. It had taken a few hours until two recruits –who belonged directly to Gregory's division- found the man by accident. Isca was nearby with his lieutenant, they heard the boys inform the suspect of his rights, heard as the murderer started to fight back and hit their armor.
Isca, a fire of hatred in his eyes, had growled something before heading towards the scene. Gregory had followed behind, unsure if it was wise to leave his captain alone when the man was angry. Every man of the guards was imposing, and in armor they were impressive. But Isca was almost a head taller than most and way larger.
But it didn't stop the murderer from fighting back. Without any kind of protection, the blood-stained man was resisting his arrest. He kicked the recruits as they tried to seize him. He spat at them, tried to bite the guards as if he was a mad dog.
He succeeded to push the smaller guard away from him, then turned to the other one who was leaning over him, trying to handcuff the criminal. Vulnerable because of his position, the guard never saw the blow coming as the murderer hit his helmet with all the strength of his own head.
The young guard backed away, dizzy, as blood started to trail down his face. The criminal laughed, his own head now bleeding from the shock. Dizzy too, he still managed to get up while the other man who he had pushed away grabbed him. The criminal jerked, though handcuffed, out of his grip, but the guard finally seized him.
And Isca arrived with Gregory.
The murderer chuckled. Because of his stature, everyone in Castle Town knew who Isca was. He was easily distinguishable.
"Oh captain." Said the murderer with a harsh voice. "It's only a shame it ain't your wife who's become a widow. How sweet that would be to rape her after!"
Usually, Isca was a calm, cold man who would keep his temper. It wasn't the first time such a low, disgusting animal would insult him or his family, and it never reached him more than necessary. However, that day, he wasn't in a mood for this. Plus, he knew that bandit well for arresting him a few times already, but it had been for minor crimes.
"Shut the fuck up, bastard." Hissed Isca.
Gregory looked up at his captain. It wasn't like him to use such words, and it wasn't like him to answer to a man they were about to convict for murder.
The criminal chuckled, Isca grew closer. The man spat at his feet a disgusting mix of saliva and blood. "And that daughter of yours has such an ass… She must sing high when you fuck her from behind."
Isca growled dangerously as he reached the criminal. And in the blink of an eye, the recruit let go of the man he was arresting as Isca's right hand circled the bastard's throat. He lifted him off the ground, and slammed him against the wall with a single, gloved hand.
The criminal chocked, his face becoming red, his eyes popping out. He coughed and his whole body jerked and twitched. Yet, Isca kept him up there, high against the bricked wall, and he tightened his grip. The Knight Commander saw red and he heard nothing. He seemed to act in slow-motion as all he could stare at was that ugly, debating man he was slowly choking to death.
Then, something strong grabbed his shoulder and pushed him away roughly. Isca's back hit the opposite wall with violence, his armor taking much of the blow.
And then, reality came back. Isca blinked. The murderer was on the ground, breathing with difficulty, spitting blood. The two recruits were finally proceeding to his arrest and the man had stopped protesting.
Before Isca, Gregory stood and stared up at his friend and boss, wide-eyed. Both of his hands were firmly pressed against his shoulders so he'd stay against the wall. The silver-blonde man waited until the boys were away with the criminal before he released the knight.
"What happened?" He asked, his voice showing his disbelief.
Isca looked down at his second in command, calm and composed. "I don't know."
"You've almost killed him, Isca! Zelda won't let this get by!"
The knight knew it well. "I know." He looked away, now feeling exhausted. "He insulted Midna. It threw me off the edge."
Gregory sighed. He knew this man's affection for his daughter well. "Now come. We're going back to the casern."
Isca nodded and followed his lieutenant, wondering –yet knowing already- what sentence he would be facing.

Zelda, surrounded by her personal militia and adviser, stared at Isca. She was sitting at a large wooden desk, a parchment right before her. She looked up at her captain, in front of her. Isca stood in silence, hands joined before his crotch as he waited, patiently, for his punishment. He was looking out the window behind the queen, his face bearing no emotions.
The blonde woman sighed softly. "What happened to you?" Her voice was soft.
He looked down at her. Though he had put up a mask to cover his feelings, she could see that he was ashamed of what he had done. "I committed a mistake." He said flatly. "I'm waiting for my punishment, now."
Zelda considered him a moment. It was so much like him to act the way he had… She sighed softly and shook her head lightly. She rolled the parchment without writing anything on it and leaned back into her chair. "I'm not going to punish you, Isca."
He stared down at her, visibly not understanding. He had, after all, nearly killed a man.
"I'm going to reward you, instead, for all these years spent as the captain of my guard."
His eyes grew slightly wider. He knew what was coming. "No, please-"
"Yes, Isca. I'm giving you unlimited vacation until I find it that you are able to take back your job."
She couldn't have stroked him harder. "No, please, Zelda. Anything but that!"
The militia men behind the queen moved lightly as they saw the rather large man losing his temper again. Zelda raised a single hand, and they calmed down. "Yes, this will do you the greatest good, Isca, and you'll have plenty of time to spend with your children and your wife." Her severe violet eyes pierced through him. "I'm sure they miss you."
He stared at her, bewildered. "I'd prefer a punishment over that."
"You'd prefer a permanent stain on your professional records than free time with the people you love?"
His jaws tightened. "No… Your Grace." He breathed between clenched teeth.
"Come back to me in a month, we'll see then if you've gained your temper back." She glared at him, he glared back more fiercely. "You may take your leave. And say hi to your family for me."
Isca turned around, not bowing, not saying anything, and left the castle.
He would not wait a month.

Tatl was sitting by a large balcony on the second floor of the mansion with Midna. Mother and daughter were enjoying tea and chatting together. The two women didn't spend that much time together, for Midna and Tatl hadn't much in common, when it came to ideas. Midna was young, inexperienced and wild, while her mother had been through enough into her life, so far, to have a different outlook.
She looked down at her daughter and remembered how fiery she had been, once, before she had been broken. She missed that energy, sometimes, but was happy and glad to see her daughter had inherited it. However, she had also inherited the fire of her father, just like Kar, and it bothered Tatl for she knew that it would drive them into bad situations.
A quick temper and impulsivity made both twins act and decide upon things without considering them much. It was a gift that Link had given them, for it was exactly what had saved him many times in situation in which he had run and dodged while others would have flinched and frozen. But it also was what had gotten her pregnant and then abandoned. Tatl hoped that they would use that double-edge gift with precaution, though she doubted it.
The noble girl installed her hands on the large, white, marble fence of the balcony, and rested her chin on them. She was lost in thoughts and tired. Midna hadn't slept that much during the last nights.
Tatl took a sip of her tea, her magenta eyes studying her daughter's profile. She had her father's nose: pointy and long. "What's on your mind, my love?" Asked the Twili, voice soft and motherly.
Midna groaned lightly. "Nothing. I'm tired, that's all."
Tatl knew her child better. "You've been tired ever since we had guests. Has something happened then?"
The brunette was quiet a moment. No emotion ran onto her features as she considered what to answer. "Not especially."
"Has Nicolas stirred your interest, by any chance?" Tatl smiled lightly.
"He's immature and can't keep up a conversation. He doesn't interest me."
"You're harsh; he's but a young man with no experience with the ladies. It comes with time and practice, dearest. You should give him a chance."
"Not interested."
Tatl sighed. She knew that her daughter would fight fiercely against it, but the decision had been taken already: she would marry Nicolas when the time would come. "Maybe you should try to be."
Midna looked at her mom, her eyes icy. The Twili knew that stare, these eyes, and the cutting, pale steel of it. "I take it Father has taken a decision?" Her voice was just as frozen as her stare.
"You should ask him yourself." Said Tatl. She would not betray her husband. She took a sip of tea.
Midna snorted and turned her eyes away, her attitude disdainful.
The door behind them opened softly. Tatl turned around, assuming it would be one of the Sheikahs or Mathias. It wouldn't be Kar, the boy was way too rough. Yet, the man who appeared was neither of those she thought it would be: it was Isca.
"Is something wrong, shouldn't you be at work?" She asked, worried already.
The knight smiled softly. He looked exhausted. "I should be."
Midna turned around, stared up at her father, already forgiving him for possibly arranging her wedding. "Are you alright?" She was worried just to see him home so early, and even more to see him look tired. "Something happened?"
Isca smiled to her. He had always loved Midna. He had always regretted that she hadn't been his real daughter... "I'm fine, Midna. Can you leave me alone with your mother, please?"
The girl got up, nodding. She walked past her father and smiled softly to him before entering the mansion.
Tatl looked up at her husband as he came to sit where Midna had been a moment before. He sighed heavily and looked at his wife. "What happened?" She asked. If Isca was at home this early, something had clearly gone wrong at work.
He seemed to consider what he was going to say. He looked away, in the distance. "I…" The words were somehow caught up in his throat. "Committed a mistake, this morning."
"It must be a pretty intense mistake for you to be here, now." She took another sip of her tea. It was growing cold. "What happened exactly?"
He was quiet a moment. "I harmed a man we were trying to arrest for murder."
"Zelda has sent you back to the mansion for harming a murderer? It's not like her."
Isca chuckled bitterly. "I harmed him… A lot." He looked at Tatl. "He had killed a father of a small family and when Greg's men found him, he resisted his arrest and even injured one." He sighed, looked away. "Then, he insulted you. And Midna. And I… Attacked him."
She stared at her husband. It wasn't like him to just bluntly attack a man. It must have been pretty harsh insults, she thought. "With your sword?"
He shook his head. "With my bare hands…"
"Oh…" Somehow, Tatl was convinced that Isca was more dangerous naked than with a mighty sword.
"I strangled him."
Tatl shivered. It brought up souvenirs of when he had attacked Link, in the Fire Temple. She remembered the scene as if it was yesterday… There was blood everywhere… Link had twitched between the knight's hands, trying to push him away as he had choked in his own blood… "Has he survived?"
Isca nodded. "Then Zelda decided to force me into vacations. So here I am." He smiled bitterly to Tatl. "You'll be stuck with me for, at least, a month."
The turquoise-haired woman sighed softly, smiling up at him. "What a shame…" She reached for his hand. "You'll be able to spend time with the children, that will do them good. Especially Kar."
His stare hardened slightly. He did not answer.
"Isca. He wants you to be by his side, you know that." Her eyes pierced through his. "He loves you and craves your affection."
"I know." Was his cold answer. It was not that he hated Kar, but he just couldn't bring himself to look at him and see the child and not the father.
Tatl sighed in irritation and drew back her hand. She casted her gaze far away into the sky. Nothing hurt and irritated her like Isca's attitude with her son. The boy knew nothing of what had happened; all he knew was that he wanted his father to be proud of him.
After a moment, Isca got up. Silent, he walked away and entered the mansion, leaving her alone on the balcony.
Sometimes, she hated him.

Midna walked away quickly when she saw that her father was coming. She rushed away, hid in the corridor, and peeked through a glass door. Isca stood before the door to the balcony, his back to it. The light coming from outside hugged his back and lined the contours of his silhouette, but his face was hidden in the darkness and between bangs of wild hair. She couldn't see his expression, but she knew just by looking at him, that he was desperate.
She thought that, if she were her mother, she'd run at him, hug him and take care of him, even if her father would push her back. She thought that she would be there for him. It angered Midna that everyone just assumed that her father was brutal and cold. He wasn't. She knew no one as warm as Isca.
Midna moved away from the door, entered the room in which her father stood, in silence. "Dad?" Of the three children, she was the only one who dared to call him like that. The boys would call him "Father".
Isca seemed to jump lightly. He looked up at her, then the corners of his mouth went slightly up. He always became softer when he was alone with Midna. "Yes?"
She smiled back and stood by the door. "Can I do something to make you happy?"
Isca blinked. She had gone right through his thick emotional armor as something deep into him was moved. He smiled more and shook his head. "No, dear. But I highly appreciate the thought."
The pale young woman nodded. "Let me know if you need anything."
He chuckled softly. It sounded almost weird. "I will."
The girl turned around to leave. She took a few steps forward, until Isca couldn't see much of her anymore… Then she turned around again and walked quickly, with determination to her very large father and, surprising him to the core, she wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her face into his chest.
"I'm glad you're home. I love you." She whispered.
Isca froze. He couldn't move, couldn't say anything. His throat was clenched and dry, so he waited, not knowing what to do or what to say… And Midna finally got away from him. Smiling to her father still, she finally walked away for good.
Isca watched her leave. He smiled, proud and happy. No one really cared about him, nowadays, but that sweet child. It touched him, touched the cold giant that he was. He had always had somewhat of a special bond with Midna, for she was a girl, and a daddy's girl with that, but he had believed that this bond had withered with the time.
And yet, he was mistaking.
Midna was still his little girl.

Kar was in the training yard behind the mansion, behind the kitchens and the servants' home. He had been training for hours with wooden dummies and his favorite long sword. The sun was bright that day, and though there was a cool wind blowing by, it was hot enough for the young man to be topless and sweaty as he fought hoards of imaginary creatures.
He loved to train, for it calmed him down greatly and permitted him to focus, he who had some troubles concentrating. But when he was giving himself fully into a hard and long training, he knew that his mind would be sharp for a little while.
And it appeased him, truth said, to stop thinking for a few hours. In his head, there were constant questioning about everything he saw and he heard. Kar was constantly, impulsively and maniacally going through the same questions, the same reasoning: what was so damn different about him?
He didn't look like his mother, father or his siblings much. The adults tended to gaze at him with somewhat of an absent stare, and it happened often. And people would stop talking instantly when he entered a room.
Maybe that was why he had started to slam the doors open: he hoped to surprise a conversation, if he acted quickly and forced himself into the room. It hadn't worked, so far.
So he was training under the sun. His skin took a beige hint during the summer, when he trained for many hours outside. But he never became much more than dark white, for Hyrule was a rather cool kingdom in which every seasons went by softly and without major changes in temperature.
However, Mathias and their father could turn so dark in the summer it was almost funny. Their skin would become as dark as a Gerudo's. Isca didn't mind much, but Mathias usually tried not to become too tanned. He liked the brownish, golden hint of his natural skin. As for Midna and Tatl… They burnt in the sun, their skins being way too pale.
It made Kar smirk to think of the rest of his family turning either black or bright red.
Behind, Mathias was watching him. The boy had been there for a little while now, sitting in the shadows on a wooden crate. He seemed lost in thought as he stared at Kar, or rather through him.
The blonde boy turned around, catching his breath. Mathias' eyes snapped up at his.
"You wanna train?" Asked Kar, chest raising and falling quickly.
Mathias considered him a moment, then he nodded and sighed. "Even if we know the outcome already." Muttered the younger man. He got up and went to the nearby weapon rack, wondered if he would take one long sword or the two-handed sword.
Kar waited patiently as he stared at his younger brother's back. The boy was already so tall and imposing… And yet so soft and clumsy, as if his body was too much for him. He had their father's inverted-triangle shape with heavy shoulders and slender waist. However, he was perhaps even more handsome than Isca, for his face was softer, his features taking a lot after Tatl.
And Kar found himself being jealous of his physics, often. Kar was handsome too, but he never seemed to be able to build up much muscles: he was tall and slender, his muscles well cut and he was quick, but he wouldn't become bigger. He had the body or a runner, a dancer, an acrobat. Not a warrior.
And Mathias had a warrior's body and he would have preferred to be a runner, a dancer or an acrobat.
Mathias chose the two-handed sword.
Kar nodded. Though Mathias wasn't good with any weapon, he was better with a bigger sword. He could put his strength behind his attack and, therefore, become almost a strong opponent.
He walked up to Kar, and the blonde boy saw the same hesitation in his eyes as always, that fear to be hurt or to hurt. Mathias was soft, too soft.
So Kar attacked first and the younger man blocked. He had good reflexes and had a good defense. What he lacked, was offense.
On the opposite again, Kar was quick to attack. He used slashing blows most of the time, though he used piercing strikes to surprise his opponent once in a while. Mathias was slow, but strong. Had he been confidant enough to really attack Kar –or anyone else- he could have killed with a single blow.
He had much of their father. He was only afraid to use these abilities.
Kar slashed at his brother, Mathias blocked efficiently, keeping his ground. So the blonde finally surprised his sibling with a piercing blow.
And Mathias was surprised. He didn't block and Kar didn't react quickly enough to stop his movement. So the steel of the long sword slashed at the boy's pectoral.
Mathias hissed softly and took a step back. Kar let go of his sword as he saw the blood starting to trail down the younger boy's shirt. "Damn! Are you alright?" He asked, somewhat panicked.
The brunet looked down at his chest. He brought his left hand up and touched the cut: it sting. Yet, it triggered something in him, like an adrenaline rush he had never felt. He felt suddenly aroused, and looking down at Kar didn't help him more. "I'm… Fine." He answered, his voice taking a darker, yet subtle, tone.
"Let's stop and get you healed."
Mathias shook his head. He put his sword down a moment to take off his shirt. The sweat fell into his injury and it hurt. He liked it. "No. It doesn't hurt that much and it's not deadly."
Kar seemed troubled. He looked up at his brother. Something in his voice wasn't right, but he didn't make light out of it. Sometimes, the boy was plain weird. "You sure?"
Mathias grabbed his sword and nodded to Kar's long blade on the sandy ground. "Pick it up."
The older boy obeyed.
And Mathias, for the first time, attacked him. Kar had enough time to see him coming, so he blocked successfully. But his brother had put enough strength to send him backward and the blonde had lost some ground with the younger's first blow.
Something flashed through Kar's eyes as he stared at Mathias. The blonde suddenly seemed not as full with assurance as before. It was slight fear that he saw in these green eyes, and it aroused the brunet even more.
Kar attacked back, Mathias blocked him. Blade against blade, both boys pushed against each other, but it was the youngest that pushed more. Kar lost more ground and he was suddenly, closing in to the walls of the mansion.
"What's gotten into you, suddenly?" Asked Kar, trying to sound confident. Yet, Mathias heard the insecurity in his voice.
He didn't answer. He was reaching his goal… Kar attacked him, Mathias sidestepped. The blood on his chest was beginning to dry. He swung the flat of his large sword at Kar, hitting his abdomen violently. The blonde breathed out loudly as he was sent backward. His back hit the wall. And the next moment, Mathias was over him, pushing a knee between Kar's.
The brunet laughed lowly in his throat as their chest collided. The sweat on Kar's chest stung in his wound. "Got you." He whispered, disarming his brother.
Kar's eyes were wide. Breathing heavily, he pushed his head as far as he could from his brother. "Y-yeah, Mathias. You won, get off."
How does it feel? Do you like it? Mathias wanted to ask… He wanted to do so much more, in fact. Instead, he chuckled softly and finally drawn back. Kar had his blood on his chest, now. "I'm sorry." Mathias muttered, suddenly feeling very ashamed. "I'll go get bandaged…"
Kar nodded, staring at his younger brother.
Mathias placed his sword back on the weapon rack and picked up his shirt. Then he disappeared into the mansion, leaving Kar alone in the training yard.
The young man stared at his brother's back until he couldn't see him anymore. Damn, that child was weird, sometimes!

A few days of forced vacation had gone by and, frankly, Isca was starting to like his freedom. He was at the usual tavern with Gregory and both men had spent an agreeable evening. Wine, ale and hydromel were flowing in the tavern, and so were the party and the bards' songs.
It eased Gregory's mind to see such a relaxed Isca. He reminded him of the youngster the captain had been, the smiling, handsome young man who seemed to be filled with joy and innocence and pride and hopes… That young Isca with wide eyes and hunger to know the world and its mysteries.
Then, Ganondorf had risen, Castle Town had been destroyed and Isca had been sent on that very important mission to save the kingdom and possibly the world. He was supposed to help the Hero of Time. He was supposed to come back covered in glory, gold and reputation. This mission should have brought Isca on the top of everything, showing the world that he was probably the greatest warrior that it had ever bore.
And Gregory had let him leave, with a firm slap to his back and a smile on his lips, persuaded that his captain would come back as a man –no more a young man-, and a great one.
Months later, when he had returned to Castle Town and found his friend again, Isca had become a man. But not a great warrior. Not covered in glory, rupees and reputation. Isca had come back as a shell of himself, darkened and grey.
He married, his wife prominently pregnant.
And Gregory had known that his sworn brother was not the same man anymore.
It had been hard at first for his captain and he grew distant with each other. Gregory had concentrated with the education of his son and his work. Then, during his wife's second pregnancy, she had suddenly become very ill. She had lost the baby, and died three days later.
And he too had become a grey man who did not smile anymore.
Now grey and bitter, the two men had found each other again, and their friendship had only become stronger.
Though the memories kept playing onto the lieutenant's mind at all times, he was able to forget and, that night, enjoy the evening with an old friend.
It was starting to grow late. On a corner of the room, one of Isca's men appeared and waved at his captain. In a good mood, Isca got up, excused himself to Gregory and went to talk with his underling. The lieutenant smiled softly: his friend rarely talked to anyone on his own will, nowadays.
And then he looked down at his mug and thought that he shouldn't have more than that. The liquid which had the color of honey buzzed lightly, a few fine bubbles exploded, and someone sat back in front of Gregory.
The lieutenant raised his slightly clouded gaze to meet the newcomer. And he stared, surprised, for a second. He smiled widely. "Kira!"
She smiled to him as well. "I didn't remember you as a drunkard." She teased him with a thick accent that betrayed that she was not from Hyrule. She sat cross-legged with her hands on the table, joined together, a sly smile playing on her rosy lips.
"I rarely drink that much." Answered Gregory, still smiling.
"I know." She had piercing, pale grey eyes and days on the ocean had tanned her skin, which fitted with her auburn hair. She wore her hair short and asymmetric; her right side being longer than the left and it was shorter behind her head, the hair reaching the top of her neck.
They stared at each other a moment before, finally, laughing. "I'm so glad to see you!" Finally said Gregory. "How's your father doing?"
"The same as always, just with more grey hair." Her father was a good friend of Gregory.
Gregory nodded, remarking that she was wearing a light, white shirt with a very tight corset of dark brown, withered leather that showed her slender body and athletic shape. It was a pirate corset that flattened the breasts, usually. But on Kira, it didn't flatten anything much.
Gregory chuckled, maybe because of the alcohol. "I am happy to know. You shall give him my regards when you return home."
She nodded. "So, why did you ask me here in Hyrule?" She tilted her head to the side.
With his chin, he pointed towards Isca. "We shall have a little talk with my captain over there."
Kira turned her head and rested her eyes on Isca's profile. And she blinked. He was probably the most handsome man she had ever looked at. "I see."
"I think you'll like him."
She already did, she knew that well.
After a while, the man with whom Isca was talking left, and the imposing captain came back. He stopped when he saw that his seat had been taken by a younger woman who was wearing tight leather pants and boots. His eyes found Gregory's and the lieutenant nodded to him, silently confirming that it was alright for her to be there.
"A friend's daughter, and a very skilled sea woman, Kira." Announced the blonde man. "She is the one I wanted you to meet."
She got up and offered her hand to Isca, smiling. Her pale eyes pierced him in a troubling way. Yet, he took her hand and kissed it, like it was custom. "I'm pleased to meet you." He said, his baritone, chocolate voice echoing neatly into the woman's head.
She grinned and laughed seductively. "Oh, but the pleasure is mine…" She said, her voice rolling with her velvety accent.

Gregory and Isca walked back home together. They didn't talk much, there was no need. With Kira, they had agreed to meet two days later and hold their first meeting of importance.
Kira. She had troubled Isca that evening. She was visibly trying to seduce him, even though he was wearing his wedding band. Usually, he turned down women almost instantly, for marriage held something sacred to him. But not her. He didn't knew why, but she was captivating. Maybe it was the accent, maybe it was her attitude, or her subtlety. Or maybe it was the danger that seemed to dance around her.
She hadn't said anything about it, but Isca was persuaded that she was a mercenary, an assassin. She had that aura of darkness around her, that aura of dangerous seduction, and he was pretty sure that she had daggers hidden everywhere on her.
And she was wearing pants. Isca had never seen a woman wearing pants outside of her house. It was, perhaps, what troubled him the most. And she had short hair. She was exotic, she was dangerous and she was attractive.
They reached the mansion and stopped before its doors. Gregory's large house was nearby, he would be home in a few minutes.
"I'll see you after tomorrow." Said Isca, looking up at his house.
"Yes."
With a nod, Isca left for his mansion. Some domestic welcomed him inside. Gregory stared at his back, then at the mansion for a moment. It truly was a beautiful piece of architecture. And he felt something burning the side of his face.
He looked in that direction, his eyes rising to a large balcony on the second floor. And his heart stopped.
In the moonlight, his eyes met Midna's.
They froze, staring at each other. And then, the young woman turned around and entered the mansion, fleeing.
Gregory blinked and looked away for a few seconds, trying to clear his mind before leaving.
But he couldn't.

Kar stood in front of the Temple of Time. The doors were opened for the visitors to come in and prey at the altar on the center alley. Monks covered in grey wool and hoods were inside, close to the chamber of the Master Sword, singing.
The noble boy entered the temple, his face grave. Once in a while, he went to the temple, he liked it. He liked how it seemed even more luminous than the sky outside, and how the roof was high and decorated. He liked the monks with their baritone voices as they sang in Old Hylian about the Goddesses and the legends of the Golden Realm. Most of all, he liked to walk slowly in the center aisle, between the wooden benches on which people came to prey, and reach the altar where the Ruby, the Sapphire and the Emerald of the Goddesses shone brightly.
Some people touched the jewels as they prayed. Kar never dared to. Then, if there were few enough citizens in the temple, he would go up, behind the altar and stand before the opened Door of Time and stare at the Master Sword.
The guards knew him well and they let him into the holy chamber. There, he'd sit down in the shadow, alone, and stare at the sword for hours, thinking. He never dared to get closer to the weapon; he never dared to touch it neither. He knew he could have, had he wanted, for the guards didn't pay much attention to what he did once inside. They were used to him and to his actions.
That day, he was there: sitting on the cold, stone floor, staring at the sword. The room was made in a way that wherever the sun might be in the sky, its light would be filtered by a well placed window and illuminate the blade. The Master Sword stood in its pedestal, as always, its blue-silvered blade shining ever so brightly. Yet, even from where Kar was, he saw the scratches upon the silver blade, he saw the notches and the rust and even some dried-up blood. The leather of its hilt had been used by sweat and it was as if the hands of the Hero of Time had been printed into it. The sword was his, he had left his marks on it.
People sometimes doubted that there had been a Hero at all, for after Ganondorf had been killed and the land had started to prosper again, there had been no one to glorify, no one to present to the people as "The Hero of Time". All that remained of that man was the Master Sword and, some rumors said, a worn-out emerald green tunic made of heavy leather. But no one had ever seen that armor, which added to the common thought that the Hero had never existed, along with the fact that no one was able to describe him physically: some said he was tall and handsome, others said he was small and malicious and others thought he was a Sheikah or some dark-haired mage with greyish skin. Kar had even heard a story about a small fairy.
But besides all these rumours and the belief that the Hero had never existed, Kar was persuaded otherwise: the Hero of Time was somewhere, still alive and waiting to be found. The young man knew it in his guts.
He had asked everyone about the legend. He had asked his mother, Sheik, Olwen, Mathias, Midna, his friends, the domestics, Zelda, the guards. Everyone. And the answers were always evasive, telling the child to go see someone else. His mother had lost her colours when he had mentioned it and she made him swear to never talk about it to his father. They were suspicious, and it frustrated Kar, for he knew in his bones that his parents and the Sheikahs knew something. Or everything.
And Queen Zelda… She knew. It was apparent in her eyes, in her face as she had taken the question and thought what to answer. But no one gave any information.
So he sat by the Master Sword, thinking that this was the only clue he'd ever find. He was lost in thoughts, staring at the weapon as he had done so many times before, his eyes burning with the desire to learn about its story.
"Here again?"
Kar jumped and looked up. Rauru's old smile welcomed him. The young man chuckled lightly. "Yes… I have nothing better to do anyway."
"So you offer your consideration to the Goddesses and the Sword when you are bored, son?"
"Oh, no! That's not what I meant, Rauru!"
The old man chuckled. "I know. I was teasing you."
Kar sighed and got up. He looked at the old sage. "If I ask you again, will you tell me about the legend?" The blonde's voice was soft, somehow pleading.
Rauru stared at him, his smile never fading. "What is it you wish to know, son?"
Something lit up in Kar's green eyes. "Everything!"
The sage stared at him a long moment, studied his face, before he nodded. "Then I shall tell you the Legend of the Hero of Time. Sit down."

"Wow. So it happened like that?"
Rauru laughed lowly and nodded, his eyes closed and his smile still on his lips. "So the legend says."
Kar rolled his eyes. "So he was an orphan who received the Master Sword from the Queen and went to beat up monsters courageously and without ever failing?"
"You may read the books, if you wish."
Kar growled softly. He knew that Rauru was not giving away the real truth. He was telling him a story. Anyway, dragons did not exist, monsters neither. "Did he have children? A wife? What did the Hero look like?"
Rauru stared at the blonde boy a moment. "The legend does not mention these facts. Maybe he did have a whole family, who knows?"
"You knew him, right?"
"As the Sage of Time, I had no choice."
"What was he like?"
The old man thought about how he could answer to this question. "He was a man with a good sense of humor and he did wear the green tunic mentioned in the common rumors. But he hated the fairy hat that came with it and discarded it quickly." Rauru chuckled to himself.
Kar's smile grew. He felt like he was finally starting to gather interesting information. "There must be people in this city who knew him? Who are they?"
The sage ran a hand into his thick beard, thinking. "I would not recommend you to go hunting for information on this man, son. Some people prefer to keep whatever happened secret." He stared at Kar, seriously. "Listen to this old man, son: if you wish to find clues about the Hero of Time, do it on your own and do not ask anyone. You would step right into danger."
The blonde boy stared at the sage, understanding that Rauru was not fooling him. He nodded, looking away and swallowing his saliva. It didn't please him to be put to silence.
"You're a good boy."
Kar growled.
Rauru laughed. "I wish to go to your mother, tonight. Guide this old man to your mansion, will you?"
"Yeah… Of course."
Kar straightened and Rauru took his arm. Slowly, they headed back to the mansion.

Midna sat by a large window on the second floor. It was grey and cold outside, she had no intention to get out. In front of her, a delicate cup of porcelain full with hot tea waited. She turned and turned her small spoon into the burning liquid as she stared at the movement of the colored fluids. Really, she hated tea.
She was thinking, remembering, over and over again that last meeting with Gregory and she couldn't forgive herself for fleeing like a scared little child when they had looked at each other. And she kept thinking that she should have done something else. She should have held his gaze. She should have done something.
This situation would have to be fixed, and quickly. And she would be the one to take the first steps. She was courageous enough. Or so she hoped.
Her mother appeared in the room, apparently in a hurry. "Midna, have you seen your brother?" She looked worried.
"Which one?" She knew the answer. Mathias never worried anyone.
"Your difficult twin brother who keeps disappearing."
"No. If I were you, I'd find where the girls are, and then I'd look for him in the same room."
Tatl sighed in irritation. The Twili noblewoman left the room, leaving her daughter alone. Midna kept staring at her tea.
Tatl walked through the corridors of her house, her breasts bouncing. She stopped when she saw Mathias in the library. He was reading, as always. She knocked on the door and slid into the room. The boy raised his eyes to greet his mother.
"Oh, Mother. May I do something for you?"
Tatl nodded. "Have you seen your brother?"
Mathias raised an eyebrow. "Not today. What for? He's gone?"
She sighed again, desperate. "As always."
The boy chuckled. "Have you looked in a nearby brothel?"
Tatl growled. "Kar isn't like that!"
He stared at her in the same way Isca did when he thought that she was crazy. "… Maybe we're not talking about the same brother, then, Mother dear."
"You're being arrogant, young man!"
Mathias looked surprised. "No, I'm not… I'm only pointing what's true, Mother: Kar is a player. Everyone knows it in this mansion and around town." He was perfectly calm, staring at her with wide eyes. "I'm sorry if I seemed arrogant to you, Mother. I never intended to be."
She stared at him. He was so much the spitting image of his father, it was troubling. Even Kar didn't look that much like his father. "It's okay, Mathias. I am merely worried. I over-reacted… He's been missing for hours, now."
The boy nodded, closing his book on his finger so he'd keep his page. "I can go and look for him, if you wish."
She shook her head. "No need. But if you happen to see him, please do tell him to bring his derrière to his mother."
A smile crept on the boy's full lips. "Of course."
Tatl left the library and headed towards the kitchen. If someone might know where the child was, it was one of the Sheikahs. She opened the door almost violently and entered the room. Sheik jumped and turned around. Olwen stared over his shoulder at her. They seemed to always be at the exact same spot, everyday.
"May I do something for you, dear, brutal maiden?" Asked the blonde man as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"Have you seen my unruly son?"
"Kar? Not today. He didn't come to beg for food."
Olwen raised his eyes from his cooking and nodded to the window. "There he is, bringing company."
Tatl neared the window, hoping that by 'company', Olwen didn't mean that the boy was bringing over a girl. Isca would not welcome such a behavior.
She would not welcome such a behavior. Kar was not a player, he was not like-
The door flew open, and the Sage of Time appeared with the blond boy.
"Thank you, son, for helping me here." Said Rauru, sweaty from the long walk. "You know, I used to be an adventurer just like you. Then I took an arrow to the knee and I became a wizard."
Kar laughed. "I'm sure you're a better wizard than an adventurer."
The old man laughed. "You are quite right, son."
"I take it you were at the temple again?" Asked Tatl, arms crossed under her breasts.
Kar nodded, looking at his mother, smiling. "Yes. Why? You were looking for me?"
"I like to know where my children are at." She simply answered, slightly cold.
The boy smile fainted as he realized his mother's irritation. He lowered his forest-green gaze. "I'm sorry, mother."
Kar did look like his father physically, but what made him look so much like him was how he acted. And each time that the boy would lower his gaze like this, each single time, a shiver would run up the Twili's back, for she had seen Link do the exact same thing so many times.
Kar chuckled the same way as his father, with the same malice. His eyes flashed in anger in the exact same way. He clenched his fist the same way. He moved his brows the same way.
Of her three children, Kar was Tatl's favorite. She wouldn't admit out loud –though everyone knew- and she wouldn't admit why neither. She loved him for being the sweet, intelligent and nice boy that he was, and also a part of her loved him even more deeply because of his resemblance with Link.
But she also found herself hating him, sometimes, for being so similar to the Hero of Time.
Tatl stared at him a moment, then she sighed. "It's fine, Kar. I would only appreciate it if you could inform me that you are going out before disappearing. No need to tell me where you are going, if you wish… But tell me you won't be in the mansion, alas." Her voice was fading as she was talking for the afternoon Sheik had announced her that Link was gone was coming back to her.
And suddenly, she was lost in thought, lost in pain and nostalgia.
"Mom?"
She looked up. Everyone was staring at her. Sheik's eyes were way graver as he knew perfectly well what she was thinking about. Tatl smiled to her son. "I'm sorry, Kar. I was lost in thoughts. So, what were you doing at the temple, this time?"
He shrugged. "Nothing much. I just like to sit in the Chamber of Time and stare at the Master Sword, thinking."
"You… Stare at the sword?" Asked Sheik. "What for, young man?" He and Olwen looked at each other briefly.
"I don't know…" Said Kar, turning around to face Sheik. "I feel attracted to it."
Sheik stared at the boy, his red eyes seemed to burn like Hell's fire.
Olwen chuckled, breaking the intense atmosphere. "I know quite some people being attracted to that sword. She is a charmer, it would seem." He was smirking, like always.
Behind, Rauru laughed. "Indeed." He rested a hand on Kar's shoulder. "Now, son, why don't you let us, old people, together? There are things I wish to discuss with your mother."
"I'm mature enough to stay, Rauru." Said Kar.
The sage laughed softly. "You are, but it's uninteresting. We shall have a talk about flowers."
Kar seemed perplexed. He looked at his mother. "Flowers?"
Tatl, still smiling, nodded. "Yes, I told Rauru I would be sending him a whole cargo of flowers we've been growing in the gardens. There are way too many of them and I need to send them off."
The boy blinked. "I'll be off, then…" Suspiciously, Kar left the kitchen.
The Sheikahs, Rauru and Tatl waited a moment before talking again.
"So, about these flowers…"

Kar had been eavesdropping for fifteen minutes on the other side of the door. And they were, really, talking about flowers. He swore to himself that he would never let his mind grow old enough to have a full conversation about plants.
"I'll send you the shipment as soon as I can gather a few men." Finally said Tatl.
"The temple will look magnificent with such colors." Replied Rauru.
"Of course. So will the Master Sword, when Kar goes to stare at her again."
"Indeed."
They grew silent a moment. Then someone coughed.
"He's attracted to the sword." It was Sheik's voice. His tone was grave, affirmative.
Another short period of silence followed.
"Yes…" Said Rauru, reluctantly. "He is."
"Isn't that a bad omen?"
"What do you mean?"
"If he's attracted, then isn't the sword calling a master? Doesn't that mean that Hyrule will be needing her Hero, again?"
"But if Kar is attracted…" It was Tatl's voice. "Does that mean that the Hero of Time is… Not able to wield it anymore?" There was an emotion into his mother's voice that Kar could not identify. Something like fear and yet hope. Something strange…
Hero of Time. Kar held his breath in order to hear everything that would follow.
"He is not able to take his sword in hands because he is not in Hyrule anymore." Replied Rauru.
"How do you know? He could be dead. Else, wouldn't the Master Sword be calling him instead of Kar?" Said Sheik, bitterness in his voice.
Someone moved.
"We all know why Kar is being called by her." Pointed Olwen's low, logical voice. "Our little hero must be far from the kingdom, and the blade's call must not reach him." He paused. "So she is demanding the one person who is the closest to him."
"The sword can do that?" It was Sheik.
"She begs for the blood, not for the man." Answered Rauru. "The triforce calls her just as much as she is calling for it. The boy must have some of it in him."
Kar blinked. They were talking about him, right? The triforce? In him?
There was another pause. Someone put something on a table.
"So, if the Master Sword is calling for her master… Does that mean that Hyrule will need her sharp edges again?"
"It is quite possible." Rauru's voice was heavy, when he answered. "But she'll demand her Hero, not the boy, as soon as she'll fell his presence."
"He's gone, Rauru." Tatl answered, seeming tired. "Possibly dead."
"There is one thing I do not know, dear Tatl, and it is where the Hero has spent the last years of his life. But there is also one thing that I do know for sure." Rauru marked a pause. "And it is that the Hero still lives."

Kar was lying on his bed.
He couldn't have been more troubled than he was after hearing this whole conversation. He couldn't understand yet, couldn't digest what he had heard. The sword was calling him in replacement of the Hero of Time, he had something to do with some triforce, and his whole entourage seemed to know the man who had apparently saved Hyrule many years ago.
In his head, there was no order, no sense to everything he had heard. Even if he tried to think logically, he was too excited, too shocked and it exasperated him to be so close to something without being able to figure it out.
But he felt that something had changed drastically in his life and he couldn't know what.
He sighed heavily, feeling the beginning of a headache. It was night, outside. Yet, he felt like he needed to go and take a walk. Maybe it would help him think straight.
The boy got up. It was a chilly evening, so he grabbed a heavy linen cape and wrapped himself in it.
And without warning Tatl or anyone else that he was going for a walk, Kar left the mansion.

Night had fallen. In the slums, the air seemed thick and humid. Isca reached the abandoned house that had been chosen for the first meeting. He was nervous, his palms were moist. He looked at the wooden, rotten door before pushing it open and entering the dark, one-room house. There was a table lightened by a lantern. On it, a map of the kingdom was installed. Around the table were a few wooden chairs and facing each other, Kira and Gregory. In the back of the room, a few men, covered in thin and black leather armor, were standing. They had masks that reached above their noses and let only their eyes be seen. They looked like Sheikahs, but Isca knew better: they were assassins.
The auburn-haired woman and Gregory stared up at Isca as he appeared. The lieutenant smiled and nodded. Kira offered the captain a rather sensual stare.
"So it is time…" Whispered Isca, more for himself than for the others to hear.
Gregory looked down at the map, rested his hands on it. "Yes…"
Kira crossed her arms over her chest. "So what is your plan, my captain?" Her accent seemed to fill the room. She sat on the table's edge and Isca noted, that she had large hips. She looked up at him, her eyes glowing with malice in the darkness.
The knight swallowed his saliva as he stared at her. He looked at Gregory, when he became too troubled by her aura. "Hyrule is becoming weak." He thought that his voice sounded weird, as if he wasn't the one talking. "We have to do something about it."
"And?" Asked Kira.
Isca sighed softly. His heart was pounding. "A revolution is needed…"
"A putsch." Replied Kira, nodding. "We need to get rid of the queen and install someone else, isn't this what you were trying to say, captain?"
Isca looked at her. "Yes, that is what I was trying to say. Thank you." His tone was commanding, irritated.
It made her smile. He was a dominant man, visibly. She liked that.
"To put it short," started Gregory, "The kingdom is losing military power due to the laws our queen has created recently. The criminality rate is increasing, the bandits are everywhere, the nobles are at their mercy for the new laws keep the guards from doing most of their work. We may have a strong commerce, but we are losing half of our shipments from other regions within our borders and outside the kingdom due to the incapacity of the guards to actually do something against the bandits. The other kingdoms are well aware of our weak military right now, and we've heard many rumours of spying, attacks and possible wars to conquer Hyrule."
"And if Hyrule is to be conquered, it would be preferable if it was by someone from the kingdom and who would install a government that would be beneficial to it." Said Isca.
Gregory nodded. "But not only are our merchants and nobility constantly in need of assistance we can't provide: the small people, the peasants, have no mean to defend themselves for they are without rupees; whilst a noble can hire a mercenary to take care of his business, a peasant cannot and must simply accept his position."
"This is unacceptable." Replied Isca. "The scum that pollutes Hyrule's splendor from within the slums, right here, have more rights than the good people, right now. And even though the people have been pleading to the queen, or even her soldiers and such, she will not listen. We must overthrow her from her throne."
Kira snickered. "To replace her with whom?"
Gregory looked up at her, then at his captain, smiling. "Isca."
Kira stared at the knight. He held her stare, waiting for her judgement. She smiled to him lasciviously. "I see." She got up, neared Isca until she was quite close to him, maybe too close. "But… I will demand compensation, you are well aware, my captain?" She ran her index on his torso.
Normally, Isca would have pushed her away. But he found out he couldn't. Instead, he looked down at her finger as she traced the contour of his pectorals through his shirt. She stirred something in him, something enjoyable. "What kind of compensation?" He heard himself ask, his voice low.
She chuckled sexually. "I take gold. I take jewels. And I'd take you."
There was a very loud noise by the window, outside, followed by a curse. They all stared right at the window, just in time to see a cloaked individual getting up and running away.
"Get him!" Called Isca.
And a second later, everyone was outside, hunting for the eavesdropping idiot who had just signed a contract with Death itself.
Isca didn't know what that person might have heard or seen. Yet, he couldn't take any chance. If it reached anyone's ears, it was his and Gregory's heads that would be cut.
He drew his sword as he ran into the alleys. The fugitive was pretty noisy, so they could follow him rather easily. But he was quick and therefore, was in advance on he and Gregory who were way heavier.
But Kira was light, quick and slender, plus she was a skilled assassin and used with the shadows. She quickly disappeared ahead of the two swordsmen, with her men.
And soon enough there was a commotion in a dark alleyway. There were shouts and screams, yet no clash of blades.
And the voice Isca heard was one he knew, but he couldn't identify it right away. He would need to be closer. So he hurried, as the bad feeling he already had intensified.
Something was way too wrong. He was sure of it now.
He reached Kira.
She was taming the spy who had run off. Isca recognized the cape. He frowned. And then he stopped and froze, the colours draining from his face.
Kira pushed the hood on the boy's head away. She grabbed a handful of blond hair and pulled on them, revealing a pale throat. She pressed her blade against his windpipe and the blood was already starting to pearl down the boy's neck-
"Stop!" Commanded Gregory beside Isca. "Don't kill the boy!"
Kira looked up, surprised. "He heard us." She stated. "He has to die."
"He's Isca's son!"
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The Legend of Zelda : Twisted Legacy