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

Waiting at the Bridge - (S1.E5)

Zel placed the sword behind the saddle on the dappled mare. Carefully wrapped in a layer of eel skin and thick cloth, he hoped the oozing taint could not leak out and affect the horse.

The mare bent its head back and nuzzled him with its white blazed face. Zel patted it reassuringly.

"Take care of old Nessy," said Gramor stepping to his side. "She may not be the fastest horse, but she's always been loyal."

"I will father."

Gramor took a deep breath, grave concern settling behind his eyes, barely noticeable in the dark twilight before dawn. "Take care of yourself too. I wish I could go with you, but..."

"I understand," said Zel. "Without you, Lurelin would fall apart."

Gramor grunted but didn't object.

Zel glanced at his other companions. Dasan the blacksmith, who knew more about weapons than anyone in Lurelin. He was the obvious choice to travel with him and eagerly agreed. Crofta readied his horse next to Dasan. Only a few years older than Zel, he was already hard and lined from his work. Not only was he considered one of the best fisherman in the city, but also the best huntsman of any kind. The children all claim he once wrestled a bear over a trout and fought a fully-grown moblin with his bare hands. Zel doubted any of those stories were true, but standing there looking at the man Zel thought maybe it could be true if it needed to be.

The third and final companion was Paden. Paden was Zel's best friend. They had grown up together, learned to fish together, gotten into trouble together, and gotten out of it together. When Paden heard that Zel was leaving, he volunteered immediately. Zel didn't think the scrawny young man, taller than Zel but with much less muscle, would be of great use on the journey. But having a close friend was like bringing a piece of home.

Zel faced his father again. "I'll be fine. It should only take us a week to reach Hyrule Castle."

Gramor grunted again. "It's not the time or distance, but what lays between."

"The roads are traveled all the time."

"And travelers are attacked all the time."

"Only those who travel alone."

Gramor folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Do you have your skiff blade?"

Zel pointed to where it lay attached to the side of his saddle.

Gramor grunted and walked away.

The small group departed as the horizon turned bright orange and painted the city of Port Lurelin a light blue. Zel and Paden rode in the middle, with Dasan leading the way and Crofta taking up the rear. By mid-morning, it began to rain, but they continued despite the downpour. When the lightning became too bad, Crofta found a small rocky outcropping they could shelter beneath. The rain never slacked and they decided to spend the night there, no more than a half day ride from Lurelin. Crofta managed a small fire from wood scraps found beneath the shelter and they at least could dry themselves and have a hot meal.

As Zel settled down to sleep, the Master Sword nestled with him, the wind outside howled. Most of the rain had stopped, but the wind still kicked up plenty of moisture to toss toward them. Zel lay awake listening to the rain, wondering if tomorrow would be the same...wondering if the elements sought the sword as fervently as the monsters. Did the rain and the wind follow him?

As if in answer to his thought, a low growl came from beyond the shelter. Zel eased to his elbow and peered into the pitch darkness, hearing nothing but the raging wind.

"What's wrong?" asked Paden, who lay beside him.

"Nothing. Just thought I heard something." Zel thought he saw a shadow move beyond the glowing embers of what was left of the fire. Someone eased toward the edge of the outcropping. Crofta, most likely. Zel held his breath and listened, but the growl never repeated and Crofta eventually sat back down, facing the darkness.

The next morning, Dasan and Crofta set a faster pace and kept their weapons loose.

"I get the feeling they're not telling us something," said Paden.

Zel shook his head. "Should we be worried, Crofta?" he asked, turning in his saddle.

Crofta's frown was barely visible beneath his facial hair. "Not yet," he said in his grizzled voice.

That night, Dasan and Crofta sat up late into the night whispering. Zel strained to hear what was being said, but the low timbre of their voices blended with the night sounds. He thought he heard the word lynel once, but couldn't be sure.

The next morning, Dasan woke Zel before dawn. The sky was still pitch black and every star could be seen through gaps in the giant palms towering over their heads. "Quickly," Dasan said with his deep rumbling voice as he helped Zel to his feet.

"What's going on?" Zel asked. He glanced over as Crofta helped Paden up...Crofta clenching an above average length skiff-blade.

"We're not sure," said Dasan.

"Keep it down," said Crofta as they scrambled to gather their things.

"Is it a monster?" asked Paden with a yawn and a stretch.

"I think it's the lynel," said Crofta.

Paden suddenly snapped his mouth shut and his eyes widened. "The lynel? Here? But why?"

"It wants the sword," Zel croaked.

"I believe it has followed us since we left," said Dasan.

They each tended their packs quickly without speaking further. Zel thought he heard growling in the darkness, but wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not.

Despite the seemingly imminent danger, Dasan set a quick but steady pace, just short of a trot. Crofta nearly rode backward, having one knee on the saddle and twisted so he could cover the rear with a bow.

Mid-morning it began to rain violently. Dasan pulled his hood over his head and made no sign of stopping for shelter. Zel glanced at Paden and pulled his own hood up. Near noon, the rain lessened as they ascended a small hill, but the low rumbling of the falling water never eased. As they topped the hill, multiple waterfalls loomed to the right, cascading in great rushes into the fog-shrouded lake below. Zel was so intent on studying the falls that he didn't realize his horse had stopped. Paden punched his arm.

Zel looked forward and cold tingles drizzled through his body. Standing at the entrance to the bridge that crossed the great lake was the lynel. As Crofta eased up beside Dasan, Zel cast around for an escape route, heart thumping, but the terrain to either side was too rocky for the horses to make a quick escape, and they'd never be able to flee back along the road fast enough to outrun the monster.

"What do we do?" he whispered.

"Shh!" said Dasan.

Crofta lifted his bow. As he did, the lynel raised its own.

"The sword for your life!" bellowed the half-horse, half-monster.

"No!" Zel shouted, reaching for the Master Sword as if he could protect it.

Dasan spun in his saddle and faced Zel and Paden. "Whatever happens, protect the sword. If we get separated, go to the town of Faron. Wait for two days only and then leave for the castle."

"But..." Zel started to argue. Movement caught his eye. Everyone snapped forward toward the lynel. The monster had leaned forward against the ground, pawing it with his front hooves and his hands.

"Run!" shouted Crofta.

With a dragon-like spray of fire from its mouth, the lynel charged.

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