The Legend of Zelda - The Tainted Blade (Season 1) | WATTYS WINNER 2018

A Waking Threat - (S1.E2)

Zel glanced back toward the ship and to the shore. He heaved a deep sigh when he found no one watching. His father was scolding one of the guys who had been teasing Zel about his name, and the others were hard at work so as to not draw their boss's ire. Everyone at the shore had their eyes trained on Gramor, chuckling or shaking their heads at his tirade.

Zel lowered the sword down onto the bottom of the boat. He covered it with a bit of sail material and slid it partially under his seat. Then he carefully arranged the other spoils from the hinox on top of it. He carefully set his oars and pulled back to shore.

Gramor met him at the dock. "Anything worth keeping?"

"Just a purse." Zel hefted the bag of coins to his father. "Other than that, an old dagger and a busted up shield."

Gramor set the over-sized purse onto the dock and opened it. He grunted, hefted it back up, and turned to walk away with it. He didn't even bother to look at the other items. "Stow the dory," he said over his shoulder. "And take the other stuff to the house."

With a sigh, Zel climbed out and tugged the dory along the dock toward the shore where it could be lashed firmly. As he eyed the townsfolk watching and glanced back to his father, now setting the boat out into the water toward the hinox, he wondered if he could sneak the sword out of the boat and to his house. He needed to clean it up and get a better look at it before showing someone. After all, it could be a fake...there had been many throughout the years. He didn't want to express too much zeal over a fake. But if it really was the Master Sword...

Zel spied a wood cart nearby. After checking to make sure it wasn't full of fish or chum, he rolled it toward the dory. First, he put in the old shield and dagger. Then, seeing that no one was really paying him any attention, he grabbed the wrapped bundle and quickly set it in the cart too.

Still, no one watched. Heart pounding, Zel pushed the cart away as quickly as he could without raising suspicion. The side of town where he lived had few people stirring at that time of day. Those who were not helping with the cleanup or watching the cleanup were about their daily jobs.

He reached the cluster of wooden homes where he and his family lived. The larger, center home where he grew up, had tall double doors and lampposts on either side of the covered porch. A roof thatched with palm leaves draped over the edges of the outer walls as if its hair had grown out too long. To the back of the larger house, an only slightly smaller version sat further beneath the trees. His father's parents had lived there, now only Zel's grandmother. When Gramor had come of age he had built the house Zel grew up in...small of course, like Zel's little house...but meant to expand and grow with time and with the growth of Gramor family. Now it was one of the largest homes in the city, and Gramor, being the harbormaster, had become one of the most wealthy men around.

Zel came of age only a few months ago. He and his father built Zel's starter house just to the right of the main home. It was nothing complicated...the porch wasn't even completed. But it was enough for one young man. When the time was right, Zel would make it bigger.

He took the sword bundle into his own house first and slid it under his bed. Then he retrieved the other two items and arranged them neatly by the fireplace in his father's home.

As the day aged, Zel watched the cleanup progress from his father's porch. It was well after noon before his father successfully attached the ship to the hinox and began the long tow out to sea. Not only was the wind non-existent, but the extra weight of the monster made the rowing strenuous.

Once the ship's prow turned toward the bay mouth at Korne Beach and the oars began to pull in steady rhythms, Zel eased back to his house and latched the door. He slid the bundle out from under his bed and carefully unwrapped it so he could study the hilt. The detail on the hilt and the intricate way the stone was set made this easily the most expertly crafted weapon Zel had ever seen. Even through the decay and the strange ooze coming from behind the stone, the craftsmanship was beyond compare. A quick rubbing on the gold spun cord on the handle made it glimmer. If it was a fake, it could have fooled King Link himself.

He pulled the wrapping away to inspect the blade. He saw no rust, but found extreme corrosion instead, tinged with the same tar-like substance coming from the stone. He reached out to touch one of the corroded places with one finger. A shock jolted through him and he recoiled.

This was indeed the Master Sword. He was convinced of it. Not a forgery, but the lost ancient blade itself. And there was something very wrong with it.

A pounding at the door made Zel hastily wrap the sword and shove it back under his bed. He unlatched the door and yanked it open. Gramor stood there, eyes narrowed and a frown on his face. But beyond the man, Zel was stunned to see that it was already dark.

How long had he been staring at the sword? Surely only a few minutes?

"Since when do you latch the door?" his father asked.

"I...I was taking a nap," Zel said. He glanced back toward his bed, hoping the sword wrappings couldn't be seen. "I didn't want anyone to come and mess with those."

Gramor grunted and turned for the larger house. "Come. Your mother has dinner ready."

"Yes sir," Zel said.

That night, Zel couldn't sleep. At first, his mind simply raced over the possibilities of actually finding the lost sword of legend. His family could become rich. The ransom that they would pay at Hyrule Castle would be enormous! Or even the Akkala Citadel! Not to mention the weapons experts at the Hateno Palace!

Then Zel's heart began to flutter. What if finding the sword started another civil war? What if everyone blamed him for it? The fight for the Master Sword would rip the land apart again. With tension already tight between the countries of Hyrule, Akkala, and Hateno, things might be worse then they were during the first war.

Zel continued to toss and turn, his apprehensions growing. That's when the whispers began. He didn't notice them at first, thinking them to be only the soft brushing of grass out his window, but every once in a while a word would form and Zel would sit straight up, straining for the sounds of an intruder. As he stared into the starlit darkness of his room, a blackness seemed to roil. Zel backed against the wall against his bed and cowered. He didn't dare approach the strange spirit-like blackness. The whispers grew, and the blackness pulsed.

He didn't remember falling asleep or lying back down. But he awoke to sunlight streaming through his window and the vivid dream memory of a hulking, black entity, with flames on his head instead of hair.

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