So I've been gone for years, with no new story, and nothing to show for myself. But recently, I've started writing a new fanfic, with an idea I've been playing with. It'll probably be cliche like everything else, but I think it's worth writing. This new story will help to bridge the gap between what I wrote last (A Future Past) and what I have planned for the future of my series.

What I'm doing now is far different from what I've done before. I can't say when this story will be done, but that I'm currently writing it. So here, in all its unperfected glory, is the prologue of my next story. Maybe posting this here will give me the boost I need to get off my ass and write something.

A middle-aged man carrying an enormous backpack casually strolled through the field outside Clock Town. He’d walked through the field toward the big city, ready for another day of peddling his wares to the happy townsfolk. In the still-dim twilight of pre-dawn, he didn’t notice the young man stalking him from afar.

The young man, about 18 or 19 years old, was slightly taller than average, but had a thin and wiry physique. He was stronger than he looked, but had a bony frame that spoke of malnourishment and many missed meals. His hair was a dirty blond color, grimy, matted, and too long from years of neglect. His bright blue eyes stared intensely at the older man walking through the field, waiting to pounce on him.

The young man silently stalked toward the older man, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. As he drew closer, the young man drew his dagger and crept behind the older man. In a lightning-fast strike, the younger man knocked the older man to the ground, pinned him there, and held the knife to his throat.

“Give me everything you have, and I won’t kill you,” growled the younger man, staring into the older man’s face. Everything had happened so fast that the older man could only stare bewildered at this young man who had tackled him. The young man pressed the knife against the other man’s throat, just enough to not slice him open. “Do it. Now.”

“I only have a few rupees now, not much I’m afraid,” said the older man. “I haven’t been to town yet today, so I haven’t been able to sell my products. You should have ambushed me in the evening when I may have had more money. You should really plan your muggings better, young man.” Infuriated at his victim’s condescending tone, the younger man punched the older man in the face and flipped him over. “Fine, if you’re going to be difficult, I’ll just take everything else.” The older man struggled to get up, but the younger man kicked him back to the ground. The younger man ripped the huge bag from the older man’s shoulders and quickly cut it open with his knife, spilling its contents onto the ground. Seeing what the older man had only enraged the younger man further. “Masks? That’s it?”

The mask salesman rolled over and cheerily gazed at the younger man. “Of course. I’m the premier mask maker in Clock Town. These are my livelihood. My masks are quite popular.”

“Shut up!” the younger man shouted angrily, kicking the mask salesman in the side. “Every businessman has something valuable, and I’ll find it.” The salesman offered little resistance as the younger man roughly tore off his cloak and pawed through the pockets. He found about 20 rupees and a random assortment of pens and paper. Then as the younger man grabbed at the bag attached to the salesman’s belt, he gave his first sign of resistance. The mask salesman grabbed onto the younger man’s wrist and tried to halt his progress.

“You won’t want what’s in there, trust me.”

The younger man grinned maliciously and bent the mask salesman’s arm backwards, feeling one of the bones snap. The mask salesman winced, but didn’t cry out. “I knew you had something valuable on you.” He snatched the bag away and dug through it. The only item contained in the bag was another mask. It was heart-shaped, with spiky protrusions, purple and red coloring, and bizarre eyes that seemed to stare into his soul. The young man felt strangely captivated by this mask, but had no idea why. It seemed so unique and peculiar, and the fact that the man kept it close to him had to mean it was valuable. “I think I’ll take this.”

The mask salesman’s eyes narrowed and stared right into the younger man’s eyes. “That would be a mistake. That mask is cursed. It’s dangerous, and no one should ever wear it. I’ll take you to my home and give you all of my worldly possessions if you give that mask back to me.”

The younger man stared at the mask salesman incredulously and laughed. “I’m not that stupid, old man. You have no intention of giving me anything. I’m taking this thing. It’s obviously worth something, or you wouldn’t hide it like this.”

The mask salesman’s expression changed to anger, and he stood up and faced the young man before him. “That mask will curse all those who wear it. Taking that will only ensure your own demise. Give it back.”

The younger man placed the strange mask into his own bag and stared defiantly at the mask salesman. “If it’s so dangerous, why do you carry it with you? If it’s cursed, why not destroy it? Oh no, I think you’re just trying to scare me out of my payday.”

“That mask cannot be destroyed,” said the salesman. “It can only be contained. No one will be able to save you from its wrath. It will be your death.”

He leaned close to the salesman’s face and sneered. “I’m not a child who can be scared by ghost stories.” The mask salesman lunged forward and grabbed for the younger man’s bag, but toppled and fell to the ground. The younger man kicked him a few times to make sure he stayed down. He quickly sprinted away from his victim, all the while wondering what he would do with the strange mask.

This might be a story about the wrath of Majora, but it might not be. Everything else about this is a secret, and what I wrote above is subject to change. But I can say this:

• This story will push things forward into the next phase of what I have planned.
• This story will include every Zelda and general storytelling cliche, but I only hope I will do it well.
• The unoriginal mythology I created will be expanded, and explained some more.
• I will create another new character (introduced in the chapter right after this one, which I'm writing at this very moment).
• I only hope there will be a few surprises.

My one wish is that someone will read this, and hopefully enjoy it. Speculation is allowed, but I would recommend against it because I have a general idea and don't want to ruin it. If some one here comes up with a really, really good idea that I can't resist, I might use it with permission and full credit. But general ideas, i.e. ideas that are commonly known and obvious, I may not credit to any specific person.

All in all, I simply want to let everyone know that I'm not dead, and I want to continue my stories. I love writing, but lately I haven't been motivated. Maybe this will help me.

This announcement is crossposted in the Vinculum (messageboard) at http://www.kasuto.net/phpbb3/viewtopic.php?f=16&t=9050