Chapter Four: A Power Unlike Anything You Can Imagine
The shadow only seemed to grow as Melaki traveled farther and farther into the forested caverns. He knew not which direction he traveled, or for what reason he even continued to do so. He was covered in blood, the warm liquid running off of his body and onto the damp cold grass. The Wolfos and other wild animals probably had caught his scent long ago, never mind the fact that it wasn’t even his own blood. The foul beasts of the wood would care not.
He stepped slowly into another cavern with only one exit on the northern side. Cautiously, Melaki swung the Deku stick around, the unsteady flickering light shining against the cold moss covered walls of stone. Etched into them were several warnings in a language unknown to Melaki, but he could tell they were meant to deter travelers, simply because of the manner in which they were drawn, and the fact that the standard marking for evil in all of the languages was etched into the stone numerous times.
“Heh…what do I have to lose?” Melaki asked to himself with a cold smile. He stepped forward. Instantly somewhere near to thirty Skullkids dropped from the roof of the forest, landing with a surprisingly quiet sound in front of the Hylian general. He unsheathed his sword and readied his Hylian shield.
“You have killed creatures of the forest,” one spoke.
“You have killed a man of the water,” spoke another.
“You have defiled the ancient wood with blood and fire,” a third said in quiet an angry tone.
“You have wounded one of our brothers,” said a last raspy voice.
“Wise would it have been to have stayed in one place and accepted your fate as a Stalfos. Instead you will now die. It has been a great many years since blood was shed in the forest. You have destroyed the peace of the land. Now we will destroy you,” the Skullkids said in unison, stepping forward. Melaki was not frightened. He was angered.
With a cry that echoed through the forest he dashed forward, and cut the heads from three Skullkids with a single sweeping stroke of his blade. He laughed loudly, but was silenced as five Skullkids launched Deku seeds into his back with their blowguns. He yelled in pain, blood running from the wounds onto the ground. Melaki faced the wood spirits, and with an insane grin, he stuck his blade through the chest of one of the Skullkids and removed it, bringing it down upon the Skullkid’s head.
The remaining four that had been shooting at him continued to do so, and he blocked the incoming seeds with his shield, then stuck the weapon into one’s forehead. He sliced one in the chest then stabbed it when as it fell to the ground. The two Skullkids left in the small group attacked Melaki, and with a psychotic look about his face and within the way he took actions, he cut the legs out from under one and decapitated the last. The rest of the group dispersed quickly, all except one. This Skullkid spoke in an angered voice.
“You should have accepted your fate…you should have gone quietly…then maybe things could have worked out for you…even a Stalfos still has a life,” the Skullkid said, fading slowly into the shadow with the rest of its brothers. Melaki stood, covered in green and red blood, an angry look about his expression. He walked through the next cavern, despite all of the warnings against it. He stepped inside the dark room, and almost instantly he felt the need to leave, and he would have, was he not paralyzed with fear. A fierce wind suddenly lashed out at Melaki, and his Deku stick was blown out and thrown against the nearby wall. The room was lit ablaze with shining light, and a dark voice spoke.
“You…who are you?”
“My-my name is Melaki A-a-avencrow,” Melaki answered.
“So frightened at a mere voice are you? How would you feel if I were to reveal myself to you?” the voice asked.
“…somewhat better, though not at all at ease,” Melaki answered honestly. Before him suddenly appeared a man with darkly tanned skin and pointed ears. His eyes were a red color, and he had long black dreadlocks. There was a black robe about his body, and his nails were long and sharp. He quickly unfolded his crossed arms and put them at his side, palms open as if he were expecting something from Melaki.
“My name is Khmer,” he spoke.
“…W-who is that?” Melaki asked.
“I am…or was rather…a Hylia. I was murdered by the hands of the soldiers in your army,” Khmer answered.
“I didn’t do it!” Melaki said, angered.
“Indeed,” Khmer agreed.
“So then why assault me?!” Melaki asked, wanting nothing more than to be free of the ordeal.
“I do not assault you. I offer you something you desire,” Khmer answered.
“You have my son?” Melaki asked.
“No, something much more long lasting…respect, power…the ability to instill fear in all who see you,” Khmer answered.
“….how?” Melaki asked after a long pause.
“In my years as a living Hylia I was fascinated by legends of a demon named Satan. He is the Lord of Hell if you have never heard of him. He invented an incredible tool much more potent than anything Din, Farore, or Nayru could ever hope to grant the Hylias. He created Black magic. A tool to use for power and offense, not as cheap final stands, but decisive first blows. I studied and harnessed this power in my life, and created magic that summoned the power of the elements from all the corners of the earth and beyond. I summoned the magic of the Lightning, of the Light, of the Ice, Sand and…Fire,” Khmer explained.
“So…what?” Melaki asked, slightly intrigued.
“I took a liking to these powers, and named them the Mystic Circle. The magic I was most potent in was the Mystic Fire…so potent was I with it that I carried it with me even to the grave, unnatural and crude as it was. I offer you my power,” Khmer said.
“Why…would I want this power?” Melaki asked.
“Because…you can destroy fields in minutes…you can turn lands of ice into oceans of water in seconds…you can decimate armies and take lives…in the blink of an eye…no one will stand against you. All will wish to be with you, and those who do not will not have the voice to speak out. And all who do…will see the power you wield. With this power….you can have anything,” Khmer answered.
“…I…I just….hmmm. …Give it to me,” Melaki said, a look of lust in his blue eyes.
“Very well…I bestow upon you a jewel…the earthly embodiment of the magic…so long as you possess this…core if you will…the magic is yours. Place It in your body, and feel the power. In return for this gift you must however make sacrifices,” Khmer said.
“What sacrifices?” Melaki asked slowly.
“You must forsake your name…your race…your army…any skills you have learned from your battles…and your love…it all means nothing. If you wish to be everything, you must first start as nothing. If you wish to become a God, you must first learn what it is to crawl on the earth like a weak insect. If you are take lives…you must first lose your own. You are not Melaki…he has died! You are the Dark Knight, the destroyer of nations, the leader of the Cult of Hyrule, the master of the nightmares that everyone has at night…all you must do to be all of this…is to die to your identity,” Khmer answered.
“I will…” Melaki answered.
“Very well,” Khmer said, fading away. Where the ghastly image was there now sat a crystal of crimson, and Melaki picked it up slowly. He drew the crystal across the back of his right hand, and then dug it deeper and deeper into his skin. Blood ran from the wound and he cringed from the pain, but the moment he set the jewel in his hand all faded, and he felt again powerful. He would follow Khmer’s instructions, but first he had to see his son, just once. He headed north, the only direction left, to see Link.
The ground began to steadily slope as he traveled northward, and the trees became less thick, and spread farther apart. The light shone brighter as well, and he knew he was close. On her marched forward, continuing north, drenched in blood of red and blue and green, the sickly warm liquids dripping off of his body and onto the ground with each step his armor shod boots took. Animals from far off bolted away with the quickest of speeds at the sound of the armor and heavy breathing that drew slowly nearer. It was a wise choice on their part too. Melaki would have killed anything that stood in his way. He had but one last thing to do as Melaki, and he intended not to fail.
He traveled through one last cavern, and was almost blinded by the immediate light of the sun beating down upon him. He looked around and saw several huts of wood to the sides of the forest near rock walls, large trees looming above and providing great shade. Indeed it was very cool in this place, and there was a magical feeling about it. The grass was neatly cut in most parts of the forest, except the sides around the entrance to the Lost Woods that Melaki had just escaped from. There was a fenced in area on a hill to the north with a hut just eastward, and another open cavern of wood below the hill to the right.
There was a path of dirt leading from the middle of the village to the hill, and then to the cavern entrance. Out of the rock wall to the west burst water that flowed gently downward into a small stream with stone platforms jutting up and out of the surface of the water. There was a small path cut into the rock wall northwest behind which was a gigantic tree, nearly one hundred feet in height by appearance, and at least half as wide. Directly north, and what immediately caught Melaki’s eye, was a tree house. He leapt from the hill he was now on onto the ground, landing on his knees.
He was in much pain from the events in the Lost Woods, and in no condition for such a jump. He struggled to his feet slowly, and began to walk toward the treehouse. He was stopped by a short child clad in a green tunic with a hat about his head and long blonde hair over his eyes.
“What are you oh….my…..Goddesses,” the boy said in disbelief as Melaki turned to face him, bloody and angered, a crazed look on his face.
“I am looking for someone. Who or what are you?” Melaki asked.
“I-I-I’m…Pado…a Kokiri…” Pado answered slowly.
“Pado, eh? Do you know where a young baby named Link is?” Melaki asked.
“…” the boy did not answer. He knew he should not tell the man where the child was, just by the evil air around him.
“Tell me, please,” Melaki said again.
“I…” Pado tried to speak words.
“Do not try my patience boy,” Melaki said angrily.
“He’s not gonna tell you a thing you big clanky jerk!” a Kokiri said, stepping up behind Pado and patting him on the back.
“Who are you…to tell him…what he…is to tell….me?” Melaki asked.
“I’m….well….err…Duranger is my name,” the Kokiri answered.
“Here this child-,” Melaki was cut off.
“I am no child. I am nearing thirty in my years,” Duranger said.
“Ah…the magic of the forest preserves your body,” Melaki said thoughtfully.
“Yes…..but…you must leave,” Duranger said.
“I must see Link,” Melaki said.
“You aren’t going to see anyone! You’re mean and evil!” a Kokiri girl said, appearing behind the other two.
“Evil? Ha ha ha …am I what your conception of evil is? How flattered I am to be feared by you, but now I must see my son,” Melaki said, turning away from the Kokiri and walking slowly toward the treehouse. Mido, the leader of the Kokiri now appeared, a rock in his hand. With a swift motion, he threw the stone, and with an even swifter motion, Melaki spun around, catching the stone in his bloody palm.
“You foolish creatures! I will not tolerate this any longer! I am seeing my son, and any who oppose me…will die!” Melaki yelled, throwing the rock at Pado, nailing him in the skull. He fell to the grassy ground, bleeding, and dead. The Kokiri children screamed and cried, backing away from the Hylian. He turned now, and walked toward the treehouse. He quietly climbed up the ladder and strode through the doorway, and then he saw the child.
His heart was lightened, and heavily burdened at the same time. Link was beautiful, everything he ever could have wished for, a living breathing boy who would become a great man like his father. But Melaki could no longer be the father of such a boy. He was not Melaki. He was the Dark Knight. He gently picked the child up in his arms and cradled him gently. He would of shed a tear in this moment, had he the heart left.
“Link…my beautiful son…my child…don’t ever….give up…things may be confusing, and dark at times…but no matter what…Melaki Avencrow shall always love you. And if you do grow to be the great hero that I know you can….if you grow to be a man written down in legends…then I pray…I pray with what small faith I have left…that you never meet the Dark Knight in combat…because…” he stopped. The child had such a peaceful look on his face, but it was not his child, not anymore. He couldn’t be attached. “Because he will kill you,” and with that, Melaki kissed the boy on the forehead and placed him once again in the bed next to Saria, and walked slowly out of the treehouse.
He was greeted by the entire Kokiri tribe, fairies fluttering about angrily, a bright red color. The Kokiri shouted angrily, lit Deku sticks and rocks in their hands, one of the boys even carrying the fabled Kokiri sword. He smiled to himself.
“You want me?!” Melaki asked.
“We wanted you to leave! But no! You wouldn’t! and now Pado…but no! No more! You won’t leave this place alive!” Duranger said angrily. Melaki, suddenly empowered with anger, leapt from the treehouse, landing on his feet, a menacing look on his face.
“Come then, kill me!” Melaki said happily. A Kokiri boy rushed at him, tears streaming from his hazel eyes. He had a rock tied to string in his hand, and he swung it around, hitting Melaki in the breastplate, the attack doing absolutely nothing in the boy’s favor. Melaki laughed and unsheathed his sword, decapitating the young boy with a swift stroke, even more blood covering Melaki’s already stained blade. Several Kokiri fell to the ground and were sick, but others were set ablaze with anger and hate.
Three of the Kokiri launched their stones at Melaki, who blocked two with his blade, and caught the last. He threw it again at a Kokiri child’s head, and again, killed the boy. A Kokiri girl ran at Melaki, crying. She screamed loudly, in disbelief at all the evil occurring around her. she beat against Melaki’s legs ceaselessly, and for awhile the Hylian was amused. He raised the girl off of her feet by the neck with one hand, then with the other, grabbed her hair. With one quick jerk, her neck was broken, and she was dead. He threw the body against a stone wall nearby, and was suddenly pelted with a flaming Deku stick.
“…so…you want to play with fire? Little children are taught to not fool around with fire where I came from…the old cliché’ is something like….don’t play with fire, or you’ll get burned, yes?” Melaki asked. The Kokiri were silent, confused by Melaki’s sudden calmness.
“Kill him!!!” a Kokiri in the crowd yelled. They suddenly ran at Melaki, Deku sticks burning brightly.
“Heh….fools! you had your chance to heed my warning! Mystic….Fire….Attack!!!!!” Melaki screamed at the top of his lungs, his hoarse voice echoing through the woods for miles and miles. Out of his outstretched palms came a torrent of flame nearly fifteen feet wide, and it scorched the children, killing many and lighting the forest ablaze. There were screams of pain and terror all around, and all the while Melaki smiled to himself, in awe of the power he now had. He turned slowly for the cavern to the east of the forest, and gave the land one last glance. From the flames, to the bodies, then to the treehouse and back again. He sheathed his blade and strode out of the forest. More than Kokiri children died that day. Melaki did as well. The Dark Knight knew not what to do next, but he instinctively headed for the one place where his anger was the strongest: to Hyrule castle.