Fan Fiction

The Legend Of Zelda: Blood Of The Holders

By coasty30
More Info / Reviews

Chapter 21: Evening Duties

The Last Rays of Sunlight

The setting sun painted the horizon crimson and the spring celebrations showed no signs of subsiding. In Hyrule City, sunset brought out lamplighters who would illuminate the crowded streets of the capital city. Feasting continued in the inns and taverns, and in low candlelight, stories and myths would be spun. The muffled sounds of celebration made their way to the courtyard of the Temple of Time where Nayrunian cleric Picorino Harvester waited for the last rays of the daylight to fall behind the horizon. It had been a day of great celebration and Picorino, like his fellow brothers and sisters, had spent the day giving the blessings of the goddesses to all who had come to the temple. On this night, he would be standing vigil in the temple while his fellow clerics joined in the celebration that were throughout Hyrule City. He preferred his quiet duty to the chaos that was drunken celebration in the taverns. Many had come seeking spring blessings and the crowds been enormous, but had steadily thinned out since early afternoon until only Brother Picorino remained. Despite his age, Brother Picorino felt youthful and vibrant he bestowed the blessings of the goddesses on many young couples who planned to say their vows in the summer, and the sight of young love filled him with vigor. His duties were to keep vigil and protect the relics within the temple from would-be thieves, and Brother Picorino enjoyed the solitude of the temple at night. After the sun disappeared, his duties would require him to light the lanterns at the shrines where the sacred treasures rested, and then the old cleric would light the lanterns in the chamber of time where the Master Sword resided, a duty Brother Picorino took great pride in. With a deep breath of fresh evening air, he straightened his blue robes and headed to go about his duties in the temple as the faint sounds of celebration still filled the air. Long shadows filled the courtyard in front of the temple from the building and trees and Brother Picorino walked towards the entrance to the temple and took a moment to look at the chamber; despite the royal architect’s efforts, the building was starting to crumble and the decision had been made to construct a new temple and the Master Sword would be moved to a shrine in a new wing at the palace. The clerics had argued for months about the movement of the sword but relented after the king promised that they would still be the ones to hold vigil over it. Brother Picorino suppressed his anger; the occasion didn’t call for it and at least for now things were how he knew and preferred them and he would forever love his duties in the temple old and crumbling or not. A rustling in the bushes caught his attention.

“Is someone there? Come out, my child.” He called in his baritone voice, certain that he was confronting someone who wished absolution. “No shame friend, come out.” Such celebrations not only brought those looking for blessing but also those seeking forgiveness and the fact that this poor soul was hiding from sight meant that they felt a great deal of shame. “The blessings of the goddesses are offered to all.” He reassured, walking towards the bushes and there was another rustling then silence. Brother Picorino shook his head; he was certain this soul felt terrible guilt, probably from a terrible crime that was committed but never prosecuted. The shadows grew ever darker as the sun disappeared and he would be late with his duties in the temple. “I assure you, my child, it is better to confess; it liberates the soul.” He added, approaching the bushes and soon Brother Picorino would be face-to-face with this tortured soul. “I do not judge you…AHHH!” It was as if the darkness itself had lashed out at the cleric and settled near the trees. Brother Picorino had the wind knocked out of him as he fell backwards and it took him several minutes to regain himself. “Goddesses!” He uttered as he felt warmth ooze over down the left side of his face and as he brought his hand up to it. He felt pain; he was cut and the wound was deep. “What darkness is this!?” He called, suppressing the stinging from his open wound. Eyeing an object near the trees where the darkness had landed, Brother Picorino spotted an area that was darker than night. The cleric was breathing heavy and his wound continued to bleed; his heart was beating fast as he realized what he was dealing with…something evil had come. “To the temple!!” He yelled, as he slowly backed towards the double doors of the temple. “To the temple!!” He shouted again, but celebrations in town insured he was heard by no one except the shadow that had wounded him. Thinking quickly, Brother Picorino wondered how he would alert his fellow clerics and the castle guards who were standing guard just over the hill near the palace. The bells! He remembered the bells would doubtless get attention and those who came to answer would doubtless be able to overpower the darkness. He started running towards the temple. “The bells!” He rasped quietly. “The bells!” As he approached the entry to the temple he looked behind him, certain he was being perused but the shadow was gone. He looked around again, ready for the dark creature’s assault. Once he rang the bells, others would come and he again started towards the temple. He reached the stairs that would lead to the doors, “The bells!” He repeated as he started up to the doors. The night went totally black and Brother Picorino felt a quick stinging pressure at his neck he then fell to his knees hard on the stone steps. He felt terrible pain now, but was unable to yell. He tried to speak, but was only able to manage a labored gurgle; he looked down to see his robes soaked with his blood. The shadow had slashed his throat and Brother Picorino knew his time was soon and he fell sprawled on the steps looking up at the entrance to the temple and as his vision started to blur. He saw the ink-black shadow standing in front of the doors. The blackness faded and there stood a man in yellow robes with black boots and a bloody dagger in hand, and the last sight that Brother Picorino saw was a set of fiery serpent eyes.