Twilight Princess:Prologue Rev

PROLOGUE: OF SYMBOLS AND WHISPERS
REVISED



The Bridge of Eldin stood strong yet silent.  The red sky painted it and its neighboring landscape in the most beautiful hues, and yet the sky lingered with the air of omens.  A light yellowish flutter of clouds wisped throughout the dawn sky and dulled the warmth.

In the silence then a thundering neigh sounded, and a lone rider sped through the grand archway of the bridge.  The footsteps of a red horse echoed against the thick stone, reverberating into the wide canyon that stretched far below.  With the rising sun shining upon the pair from the west, the horse’s crimson body appeared even more vibrant, and orange tint running the length of its bouncing white mane and tail.  The clomps of its hooves seemed to keep a constant rhythm, one that kept everything in sync.

Yet even with the Hyrulean Castle set just below the sun on the horizon, the rider remained unidentifiable other than his soiled green clothes.  He paid no mind to the grandness of the bridge or the glamour of the castle in the distance.  Not even the breathtaking sunrise took his eyes from his road.  He was set.  On a path back into a familiar land, the mountains rising strong before him.

The rider whipped around the grassy terrain of Eldin field, heading south into the mountains that splayed out before him.  Then, for the first time on his journey back, he gazed toward the castle with a sliver of a memory tugging at his mind.  The glimmers of the sinister dark and yellow clouds that surrounded Hyrule Castle and the thought of a lonely wolf sitting and howling to an empty sky.

===============

The soothing sounds of the spring lulled the sun in the evening sky to sink into slumber.  As the mass of brightness dwindled behind the clouds, a young ranch hand and a blacksmith sat at an enclosed spring admiring the peace.  A burdened red horse with a glowing white mane sat behind them in the soft sands. It seemed the goddesses had painted the red and purple hues with their mighty brushes in the simplest harmony.  Even frogs upon their lilies moaned in agreement, their croaks echoing into the stillness.

This was when life in the Ordon province seemed the simplest, even though it was an already uncomplicated existence.  There was no rush in heavy streets, no yelling townsfolk, no ill circumstance.  The trees shadowed the lives of the people, their soft whispers an unchallengeable melody of wind and leaf.  There, sitting at the spirit spring, was a moment that gave another bright moment of tranquility.  The hushed melody of the descending twilight deterred the pair from their chore, yet late as it was becoming, they assured themselves there was time for this relaxation.

But it was at that time that the blacksmith, a square-jawed man in his middle years, spoke out to the youth that sat beside him.  “Tell me, Link…. Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?  They say it’s the only time when our world intersects with theirs, the only time we can feel the lingering regrets of spirits who have left our world.”  He breathed deeply, thinking it over as he toyed with his short, gray beard.  Then he spoke softly, “That is why loneliness always pervades the hour of twilight.”

The fair-haired youth looked to him then, a glimmering wonder glazing his crystal blue eyes.  His mentor always seemed so full of life even in his older age, and his sudden weariness at the dark hour troubled him.  He rarely heard him speak in such a manner.

But the blacksmith shifted his focus, “Enough of this talk, though…. Link, I have a favor to ask.  I’ve talked it over with the Mayor, and, although it was my duty I want you to take Ordon’s gift to Hyrule Castle.  A sword and a shield; to be presented to the royal family.”  The blacksmith took a moment before continuing, in which the young man beside him immersed himself in a dream of discovering the world that had so long been unknown to him.  Link had always envisioned the day when he would journey into the vast lands of the kingdom, discovering its many wonders.  It seemed he had remained still, living within Ordon Village, for far too long.  He had yearned for adventure since his childhood.

“You’ve never been to Hyrule, I know,” the older man spoke. “But, Link, it is a wondrous place.  The other provinces and villages are full of life, full of people of various occupations and interests.  You should experience it.”  He then flashed a suggestive smile, “And perhaps you’ll be lucky enough to meet the princess herself!”

From that proposition, Link fell into a world of fantasy.  What would it be to visit other villages, to meet other people who shared in his beliefs, to ascend the honorable steps of Hyrule Castle, to meet Princess Zelda?  The possibilities of such a journey sparked a new life within him, and he found himself looking to his left hand.  On its back there bore a symbol of three darkened triangles that were lined up to assemble one perfect triangle.  All through his life, orphaned to Ordon, he had wondered what this figure meant.  How had such a mark branded him?  He could not remember.  And who were his parents?  Why did they leave him to this place?  He did not know.  He had wished with all his heart to one day find the answers.

In that moment, the blacksmith glanced toward Link and followed his line of sight to the odd marking.  His mouth thinned into an indiscernible frown, but instead of disturbing Link’s thoughts with his own ponderings he rose and brushed off his backside.  “Well, come on then, Link, best get these bundles into town before Epona falls asleep.”

With some reluctance Link pulled himself up from his earthly chair and took hold of his horse’s reins, calling for her to rise. She obediently dragged herself from her own thoughtful gaze and stood before her master, tossing her mane.  Link had remembered bonding with Epona when he was but a boy and she a small, wild pony.  As far as he knew, he had been the only one who had ever been able to tame her independent nature.

On the way back to the village all Link could think about was this journey upon which he would soon embark.  They crossed back over the bridge that linked Hyrule to the path that led toward their village, and they passed through the rocky cliffs that adjoined to another spring.  In that quiet moment, Link heard a faint whisper.  The back of his hand burned suddenly, but he gave no indication of this to Rusl the blacksmith who walked idly in front of him.

Rubbing away the soft pain, Link nonchalantly turned his head in the direction of the spring, gazing over the calm waters and verdant life. But whatever had called out, there it remained no longer.  Concluding that the noise had been the frail voice of the dying wind, Link continued onward into Ordon.

Yet, as he passed out of sight and earshot of the spring, a dim yellow glow twinkled with a soft, singing whine before it once more faded into the evening air.