Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction / Super Smash Brothers Fan Fiction ❯ Horizon ❯ Horizon ( One-Shot )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Mild Guy 
Meta Knight faces Zelda and Link on the third day of the tournament, and meets his new team mate.
Non Anime: Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction / Super Smash Brothers Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Action | Type: Vignette | Uploaded On: 03.30.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 625 | Visits: 505 | Status: Completed
Meta Knight faces Zelda and Link on the third day of the tournament, and meets his new team mate.
Non Anime: Legend Of Zelda Fan Fiction / Super Smash Brothers Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Action | Type: Vignette | Uploaded On: 03.30.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 625 | Visits: 505 | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: The following contains characters and concepts that are not the property of the author. They are the intellectual property of Nintendo and their associates. This work of fanfiction is not endorsed by the original creators and is not in any way meant to insult the original work. The author has received no monetary benefit from this posting.
Warning: There’s a hint of a suggestion of Yaoi here, but nothing concrete.
Warning: There’s a hint of a suggestion of Yaoi here, but nothing concrete.
Horizon
I have no regrets.
On the third day I faced Link and Zelda in team melee, on a hovering shelf of rock we simply called the Battlefield. A hole in the world opened and Ganondorf came among us. The sorcerer stood tall, arms crossed, like an emperor of old alive again. My soul shook to gaze upon him.
Given the signal to begin, I swooped down on Link. Though he was no knight, all the same I was eager to test my swordsmanship against his legend–the salvation of his kingdom was said to rely entirely on his sword arm.
The wings of my cape straightened out behind me and I dived on Link. I anticipated the lick of steel on steel, the sweet tension that would fill me as I pressed my blade against his. Alas, it was not to be.
So keen on my prey, I did not mark the princess Zelda until she was standing before me. A blue aura of light deflected my blade as if it were a wall of granite. Link sprinted past us to engage Ganondorf. I realized then our opponents had planned thus: The paragon should topple the tyrant once more while the princess and her parlor tricks distracted the lesser threat.
My indignation knew no limits. I tore into Zelda with a ferocity I might have, in a calmer state of mind, deemed inappropriate towards a member of the fairer sex. I was a cyclone, a relentless drill boring into the smooth cheek of her defenses. Her magic bolts never came close to touching me in my fury. At the last she attempted a transformation into the lithe Sheika form that served her so well against fleeter opponents. Before she emerged fully from her chrysalis of fairy light than I threw my cape over her and delivered the final cut.
With contempt still seething in my heart, I turned to find Link dangling by the head from Ganondorf’s mighty hand. Shadowed energies boiled from between the sorcerer’s crushing fingers. Link’s very veins ran a poisoned purple. The air reeked of corruption.
Ganondorf whispered to the Hylian. “Do you hear the wind of change howling, boy? In the land of my birth it brought desolation and death. Here, it heralds my victory. There are no prophecies left to save you. The eternal cycle breaks. The wind claims you.”
The warlock tossed Link unconscious into the empty air. The match was ours.
Link and Zelda were never the same. Broken things, they moved through the world silent and numb.
I called on Ganondorf in his state room that night. He reclined naked on pile of silk cushions, plucking grapes from a vine and dropping them into his red mouth. The hard magnificence of his body stole away my breath–his skin stripped and puckered with ancient wounds. I asked him if I could learn to hear the winds of death and destiny, as he did.
Like a knife cut, Ganondorf’s smile split open.
On the third day I faced Link and Zelda in team melee, on a hovering shelf of rock we simply called the Battlefield. A hole in the world opened and Ganondorf came among us. The sorcerer stood tall, arms crossed, like an emperor of old alive again. My soul shook to gaze upon him.
Given the signal to begin, I swooped down on Link. Though he was no knight, all the same I was eager to test my swordsmanship against his legend–the salvation of his kingdom was said to rely entirely on his sword arm.
The wings of my cape straightened out behind me and I dived on Link. I anticipated the lick of steel on steel, the sweet tension that would fill me as I pressed my blade against his. Alas, it was not to be.
So keen on my prey, I did not mark the princess Zelda until she was standing before me. A blue aura of light deflected my blade as if it were a wall of granite. Link sprinted past us to engage Ganondorf. I realized then our opponents had planned thus: The paragon should topple the tyrant once more while the princess and her parlor tricks distracted the lesser threat.
My indignation knew no limits. I tore into Zelda with a ferocity I might have, in a calmer state of mind, deemed inappropriate towards a member of the fairer sex. I was a cyclone, a relentless drill boring into the smooth cheek of her defenses. Her magic bolts never came close to touching me in my fury. At the last she attempted a transformation into the lithe Sheika form that served her so well against fleeter opponents. Before she emerged fully from her chrysalis of fairy light than I threw my cape over her and delivered the final cut.
With contempt still seething in my heart, I turned to find Link dangling by the head from Ganondorf’s mighty hand. Shadowed energies boiled from between the sorcerer’s crushing fingers. Link’s very veins ran a poisoned purple. The air reeked of corruption.
Ganondorf whispered to the Hylian. “Do you hear the wind of change howling, boy? In the land of my birth it brought desolation and death. Here, it heralds my victory. There are no prophecies left to save you. The eternal cycle breaks. The wind claims you.”
The warlock tossed Link unconscious into the empty air. The match was ours.
Link and Zelda were never the same. Broken things, they moved through the world silent and numb.
I called on Ganondorf in his state room that night. He reclined naked on pile of silk cushions, plucking grapes from a vine and dropping them into his red mouth. The hard magnificence of his body stole away my breath–his skin stripped and puckered with ancient wounds. I asked him if I could learn to hear the winds of death and destiny, as he did.
Like a knife cut, Ganondorf’s smile split open.