The princess had gone missing.
And she would stay missing for as long as HE was reigning.
Five years ago marked a clear end to the life that they had once known. A life that was peaceful and with the warm, kind smile of their father as well as the soft chastises from Impa. A time where all seemed well though their dreams spoke of DARK CLOUDS shrouding over Hyrule and a future to be dreaded.
Yet no one dared to listen to them except of a guardian and a young boy.
The man with burning yellow eyes desired for the power that they held, wrapped beneath their bandages. They could not return to the young, naive child they once were and instead they were hardened by their training and experiences. They fought and struggled for the sake of this kingdom. They dedicated their body to PROTECT it even if it meant shedding their birth name and the apparel that marked their status.
SHEIK was their name. A TRIBUTE to the tribe’s garb that they wore. A SYMBOL to the status that they once held, if not to forget themself.
They were not fighting for themself. They were fighting for this land that they served.
The five years had passed, each day exceedingly long and dreadful. They would have to wait for two more years until the arrival of the hero, but this did not mean that Sheik would just stand back and leave it to a young child which had FATE thrust upon him. Each day spent was that of learning and of honing their body. They protected those that the sleeping hero could not and seared these memories into their mind.
History would NOT be written by the CONQUEROR, but rather the SURVIVORS.
Many that they had once known within their old home, now TWISTED and CORRUPTED with the evil king’s power. Even from the still pristine Temple of Time that seemed UNTOUCHED by such evil, vermillion eyes could only look upon the dark clouds over their once home. They knew not why they continued coming to the temple in hopes that the sword would release the hero any earlier.
But they hoped. And hoped. And HOPED.
The first time Sheik gazed upon a redead, nausea had taken a VICIOUS grip at their grotesque figures. They had thought there were no survivors in this town they so loved. Yet the first moment their blade sunk into the bodies of one of them, they knew clearly that it was not rotten flesh but rather fine-grained earth.
The screams of the redead twitched at the warrior’s ear and immediately their attention snapped toward the entrance of the town. Individual redead were quite common but so many— there were too many! What was this man doing here!? Did he not know of the DANGERS that lurked in these parts!?
Quick to act, Sheik pulled out their bow and willed themself to CALM in such a desperate moment. They willed their magic to SPARK from the tips of their fingers, gathering what light they could from within themself. To draw upon the power that they held so carefully, but careful enough to not draw attention to the light that they drew.
Release the string and let it fly.
The loud, pained screeches of the creatures marked the light arrows true to their target as their bodies BURNED and CHARRED. Placing their bow away, Sheik soon reached for their daggers if only to sprint to the few remaining redead left untouched by their arrows. Cold steel slashed through the bodies of the monsters before they could turn toward them and even as they did their BONE-CHILLING screech, the warrior was quick and graceful to flip away.
They moved with trained grace, each movement DEADLY efficient as their blades dropped each enemy and footwork meant to dodge hungry mouths or reaching limbs. The redead had no hope of keeping up with the warrior’s speed or years of combat prowess and they moved only to make this encounter SHORT.
The redead laid crumbled and charred on the ground beneath their feet.
Vermillion eyes burned into the man in front of them.
“You should be more careful, stranger,” Sheik murmured, breath heavy against their cowl as they soon looked around them. “I do not know what you left behind here but considering the dangers here, it is best to keep your LIFE rather than your POSSESSIONS.
Bandaged fingers CLUTCHED at their side if only to feel the warm blood spreading over their fingertips. A small wound. One that they would be able to push past with ease. There was no need for the man in front of them to know about it and so instead they drew a cloak over their form from their bag.
“Come with me, before more come wanting a taste out of either of us. I’ll keep you protected.”
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