Forest of Autumn Twilight, Chapter I


Forest of Autumn Twilight
By: Landon

Chapter: Fight and Premonitions at Night
Fado shook his head in disdain as the remaining Kokiri filed out of the great hollowed oak tree, that served as their council and meeting quarters. He, being the only one left, was probably one out of the few that disliked the conniving decision that the high council had made. Just thinking about it made him angry, and it also made his head hurt. Truly this was one of the worst council meetings of all time.
Frowning and sighing, Fado brushed his untidy golden hair out of his bluish-green eyes, and stood up, looking at the empty seats. He stood alone in the dark room, lit only by a wax candle. Fado picked up his oily quill and parchment, not blowing out the candle, which continued to crackle; fading slightly, but then revving up again, attempting not to be put out.
Fado made his way to the pale stained sheet that served as the council’s doorway, but a voice stopped him. He didn’t turn, nor continue walking, but he stood rooted to the spot.
“What’s wrong Fado? You haven’t responded to anybody in the recent days, let alone speak in the council tonight...” a girl’s voice echoed in the enclosed room, coming from the shadows on the far ends of the room.
Fado merely turned his body slightly, his eyes half-open, as if he was sleepy, but this look wasn’t tiring, more of annoyance. His blue-green eyes stared at the darkness without flinching, looking at a young green-haired girl. The two continued to look at each other, when Fado broke the seemingly endless silence.
“Give me a break Saria, you’re the only one I would die to talk to, but not now...I have too many things on my mind...” he said, still with his eyes half open.
Fado then turned, starting to walk out the stained sheet, but a soft and young smooth hand grasped his forearm firmly. He turned his head and looked into Saria’s bright, green eyes. He could finally see her figure. She was wearing a green tunic and a green skirt that was tightened by a leather, brown belt, along with brown leather boots and a green headband.
“Fado, I need to know...What’s wrong with you? For the past few days you’ve done nothing but sit in your house, concentrating hard on something that you don’t want others to know. Each time I’ve come to see what has been wrong with you...Well, all you do is just yell at me...” Saria said pleadingly.
Fado continued to look into her bright, concerned eyes, wondering and wanting to know if he was okay. After a fraction of a heartbeat he sighed heavily and loosened his grip on his quill and parchment, but decided to confess.
“It’s the council that worries me,” he said, not looking at her, rather nothing in particular. “You see...The decision made tonight has...Well, frightened me in a way and has made me mad...A mix of two emotions that aren’t good once combined together,” Saria acknowledged this and urged him to continue, not letting go of his arm. She wanted his full answer. “And another thing that concerns me in particular is the council committee. It seems like they’re trying to silence us like mass murder...”
Saria nodded in agreement and then let his arm go. “To tell the truth...I’m actually worried about the decision too...Its too beneath them to have thought up a reason as conniving as that...” she said softly, her voice trailing off. “What’s going to happen, Fado?”
Fado glanced outside the immense tree through a handful of the sheet that he had held up. Clouds were rolling in and these seemed much more filled with precipitation than the last fall of rain that the forest had, in fact, it was some time ago. The moon hid its shining silver face beneath the gray and dreary clouds that almost looked like an immense blanket that it could cuddle up in. “To be honest, Saria, I wish I knew...” Fado said lowly, close to a whisper, still eyeing the once clear and starry sky.
He looked at her, trying to smile warmly, assuring her that everything was going to be okay, but he could only muster up a small one. Saria looked at him, still somehow concerned. But it wasn’t about the council or forest’s sake; it was Fado’s. Silence hung all around the two of them, but was finally broken by Fado, “Well, Saria...I need to get home,”
“Huh? Oh...Oh right. I need to get home too,” she said, jumping at the break of silence.
“Goodnight Saria.”
“Goodnight Fado!”
Saria stood alone, watching as Fado walked towards his small, oak house, located right next to hers’ on the left. She walked slowly out of the tree and stood, stretching. It had been a crazy day, all the same with that night. Slight pellets of rain hit against her face and clothing as she stood, gazing at Fado’s house. Then, after a second, it didn’t occur to her that it was now pouring rain and that she was standing in it. She hurried away and into the shelter of her dry and cozy home, closing the door behind her.



Coran stood, hands interlocked on his drawn blade, looking every which way. Still, the horn continued to blare, deafening him and his command, temporary paralyzing them. Coran glanced over his shoulder, seeing that some of his command held their swords too, shaking, unable to hold the naked blade straight. Turning his shaggy and heavy head back to the fortress entrance, Coran grunted and glared angrily at nothing, as he continued to watch the landscape ahead of them.
Another thought occurred to Coran that he never thought of. The Gerudos were women; they didn’t wear armor either. So, this would be relative easy, wouldn’t it? Coran smiled with glee. Of course it would be easy...
The Knights stood on, unsure about the situation. Some backed up in fear; the horses backed off as well. Still, nothing came, only the blaring of the horn. Coran was still tense, wondering if the Gerudos were planning a surprise attack. But, alas, nothing still came. Maybe it was a bluff or something along those lines. But, if it was a bluff, why would the horn still be blaring on and on? This mystified Coran as he stood, loosening his grip on his sword and staring blankly into the darkness that loomed all around them. Yet, at that moment, a sound caused Coran to tense back up, sword at the ready. It was the sound of footsteps, but it wasn’t just one set; there were many.
Coran, this time was very cautious. “Knights! Swords at the ready!” he yelled into the pitch-black darkness behind him. Yet one figure loomed beside him. It was his secondhand, Tarus. In the vile, sweaty air, Coran could sense the guilt of nervousness in his young Knight. No doubt, the Knights that were on their first assignment were terrified; none had expected a battle, let alone in the dark. It almost made him feel sorry about the novices, almost.
As the footsteps drew nearer, the Knights edged farther and farther back up against the cliff and bridge. Coran bit his lip. Why? Why did it have to be him? He expected to see a figure in the darkness that of a female, but no such shape emerged; the footsteps stopped almost immediately. But it wasn’t just one set; it was all of them.
A slight crack of a rock snapped somewhere near Coran, who swung his sword without thinking twice. But this act was of foolishness. Instead of hitting a woman, he hit the rock-solid boulder; a sudden shudder arose in his body, as the blade quivered against the boulder, sending a slight numbness throughout his body after the shudder.
Many of the Knights jumped at the sudden clang of metal against a rock-solid surface, which seemed to echo throughout the entire canyon. Feeling wobbly and vulnerable, Coran heaved his body forward, taking up his sword once again, at the ready. After the second of numbness, Coran glanced right and left, unknowing where the people or thing approaching went. But one thing came that dreaded him and his whole command; a Knight fell to the ground heavily somewhere to his left behind him. Through the silver light of the moon, Coran could see frothy, warm blood flowing and trickling on the rusty ground. Then Coran noticed where the blood had come from and wished he hadn’t looked; the Knight that had fallen was beheaded...



The smell of burning wood and straw came to Fado’s nose, as well as smoke that clouded his lungs. He choked and coughed, looking for the source of this smoke and smell. Fado stepped forward, eyes watering like mad in the smoke. He began making his way through the entrance to the Lost Woods, until it occurred to him that the smoke was coming from the Kokiri Forest. Then he started brushing tree limbs out of his way, rushing towards the hollowed log that served as the entryway. He ran faster than he could before, passing through the log and out to the cliff that overlooked the houses of the forest.
What he saw made him sick to his stomach. The whole forest; the houses; the shops; the trees and plants, all on fire. The flames roared with fury as they continued, not giving up. Fado then realized what had happened; below, next to the entryway to the forest itself, stood a man about six foot with a great build. He was wearing a robe that was of the color of red and gold, along with a red marking that looked like one of the symbols of Hyrule, the red phoenix. Beside this man stood two men that appeared to be Knights; they were wearing heavy blue armor with the Triforce embossed on the very center of their breastplates. Both were slightly in front of the man with swords drawn, revealing their naked blades.
The man behind them, however, was not a Knight. Instead, he looked like he was of royalty. A golden crown rested upon his wispy, graying hair with many jewels sparkling. On his fingers, Fado could make out what appeared to be rings. He had many rings, some with different designs or with many jewels that were crested inside their shell of gold. It was the king of Hyrule...
Fado gaped at this sight. What would he, the king of Hyrule, be doing here? He never came into the forest. Never. But perhaps the thing that disturbed Fado most of all was the sight that now lay before him. One Kokiri was running, but a Knight had caught up to him; with one sword stroke up the back, the Kokiri fell, dead. Others laid, dead, massacred by the Knights. Some of the Knights stood, laughing at the sight.
The flames that licked some of the bodies filled the air with the smell of burning flesh. But, the fire that engulfed the trees was dying down, leaving crisp and warm leaves, the color of light brown. The sun behind the trees was near to setting, the twilight. Upon the withered trees were the leaves that stood out, but combined with the setting sun, it looked like a forest of autumn twilight...


Fado woke up yelling. He sat up slowly on his bed as cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck and down his forehead. His heart was beating strangely faster than normal; he also seemed out of breath. What, he thought, What was that dream about? Before he could think about it anymore, Saria opened up his door, looking frantic. Fado’s windows were open after all, and Saria kept hers open during the night.
“What’s wrong?” she asked worriedly. Then she began asking him more questions, “Are you hurt? Did something happen? Answer m-”
“I’m fine, Saria!” Fado interrupted, still out of breath.
He looked at her and nodded, trying to assure her that he was okay, well, for the most part. Still, what about the dream? So strange. Was this a premonition? Never in his live time did he have dreams that were like that. Another question also rang in his head. Why would the king of Hyrule be here, in the forest, destroying it? All these questions swarmed his head, trying to figure out the answer. Then it occurred to him that Saria was still there.
He glanced up at her and smiled sheepishly, trying to play the innocent act. Saria didn’t take this for an answer. Fado could tell that she wasn’t buying it. Saria walked up and sat down next to Fado. He blinked at her, still trying to play that nothing happened. This, attempt however, didn’t work either. Fado sighed and then confessed, “It was a dream, okay? Just some stupid bad dream. People sometimes yell when they’re having a nightmare or a dream of the sort. Okay?”
Saria looked at him, still somehow concerned. “Fado, you know I’m concerned. You can’t get rid of me. I worry about you...” she said softly, almost to a whisper. Fado nodded slowly, trying to forgive himself for yelling at her. Saria sighed and took one last look at him.
“Really Saria, I’m fine...” he said to her. Saria nodded, acknowledging his safety and left his house. He watched her walk away and into her house through his window.
Fado was still dripping in cold sweat and still, the questions were running through his mind. He held his knees close to his chest and put his face into his forearms that were rested on his knees. How awful. The forest on fire? Let alone the slaughter that took place before his eyes in the dream. But some things were unclear. What about the Deku Tree? Of course Fado wasn’t in the position to see the great tree, but still. And the question that he wanted to be answered the most was this: Why would the king of Hyrule and his army attack the forest? What did the Kokiri ever do to them (in the dream)?
One last thing rang through his mind. Was it a premonition? Or, was it just an ordinary dream? Things like this had happened before. There had been many tales that involved ‘important’ people dreaming about things that depicted as a sign of things to come. No, it couldn’t have been premonition. How could anything so bizarre happen in the first place? Sleep. I’ll just have to think about this in the morning...



Then the next strike came without warning. Another Knight fell to the ground; the armor that clothed the Knight sent out a sharp bang that echoed from the valley five times louder, penetrating the silence. Many of the other Knights continued to stare, wide-eyed at the sight before them. The horses were starting to back onto the bridge, whinnying fearfully. One figure stood alone among the others, followed by another, standing by his commander’s side. Coran cursed hoarsely under his breath; eyes filled with raged. The cowards! They rely on sneak attacks! Tarus wasn’t so delighted by the scenes though. He began to back up like the rest of the men, fearful of what might happen.
The anger that filled Coran came from two things: his command, that wasn’t doing a single thing; backing up, to scared of being killed (even though Coran didn’t admit it, he was too). Second: the figures in the darkness that Coran guessed were Gerudos. All they did was pull sneak attacks and already two of his men were dead. They should just come out and fight like men. But oh no, they just had to conceal themselves. Coran however, did give them a little bit of credit for using the darkness to their advantage, just a little.
Something else rang among his deep thoughts that had cornered him before they even set foot into the valley. Why in the world did the king of Hyrule want them to raid the Gerudos? Was it revenge? In fact, Coran didn’t hear a thing about revenge. The Gerudos barely did a thing; considering they were filthy desert scum. Barely they would come and try to attack the market, but every attempt failed. Or was it simply the king’s greed? He’d said something about getting rid of the minor races, which he called small parasites. But he wasn’t talking about the Gorons or Zoras. They were a race that had a sizable margin that the king respected. The main two races that he was meaning were the Gerudos and the Kokiri. The Gerudos were against the other races, while the Kokiri on the other hand, never helped during wartime or partake in battles; they just sat in their little forest, hiding from the fights that broke out.
Coran brushed this though out of his mind abruptly and though it wise to pay attention what would appear to be a bloody scene before him and his command. The state of this battle already was bad. Knights were backing up in fear, horses whinnying from the emotion of fear as well. Well, it was time to except this. There was nothing else to do.
Snap! Coran swung his body to his right and stood, teeth bared and fingers interlocked on his blade once again, alarmed by this noise that pierced the silence. He expected a Gerudo to come out and swing at him, but surprisingly, one did not. But what could that sound have been? This was never answered, for when Coran was about to put his guard down, the figure that made the noise leaped at him, sword brandished and pointing straight at him. Just barely, he moved to the side as the features of his attacker were revealed, snarling at him angrily.
She was wearing just a simple tan-like top with an equally tan skirt; she was gripping a blade that appeared to be similar to that of pirates. Nevertheless, the sword gleamed in the illuminating moon that hung above, the blade curving towards the ground slightly near the middle. If this Gerudo thought that she could try and seduce Coran with her looks, she was sadly mistaken. He saw no image in her, just that of a filthy, thieving desert woman. Hopefully his men wouldn’t be fooled by it. Whether that was true with the two Knights that were felled, he didn’t know.
The woman jumped again at him while Coran responded by dodging the stroke that she had used presumably to kill him. Next she tried it again, the same reply from Coran; this time, however, he struck with his own slash in her back, killing her. Then he glanced ahead of him to his next attacker who ran briskly towards him, sword held straight out with firm arms forward. Upon this attacker, he ducked her stroke and lunged with his sword, felling her in a brisk move.
Now the battle had begun. Now the Gerudos were coming in swarms. Now the Knights had to protect themselves, on there own. Many female figures swarmed the darkness ahead of them, emitting battle cries and brandishing their pirate-like swords. Some carried spears or javelins you could say. Raising the wooden shaft slightly above their heads and hurling them at their target. More of the command was felled, making others grimace at the sight before them. Some of the horses were slaughtered, falling to the ground with a loud thud! Some of the horses still whinnying at the agony of the pain.
Coran scowled at the cowardice of his men. One thing was for sure; he couldn’t win a battle on his own; being a one-man army. If and when he got of this fight, he would report the lack of facing your own demise; even if part of his command was or wasn’t alive. Sure, you may be facing death (which Coran was not found of as well), but hell, if you’re going to die you might as well go out with a bang.
Accepting this, Coran charged into the fray, swinging his sword up high, for once forgetting about his men.


After the seemingly endless cloudy sky, the Moon started to show its beautiful and silver shining face illuminated the heart of the Kokiri Forest where the great Deku Tree dwelled. Great heaves of breath came from the snoring the great tree made, blowing the slightest little trees way back, almost touching the ground; though the much and more mature, taller trees stood still, they also blew back, though not near as close to touching the ground. The great tree’s graying brows were furrowed, as if it were troubled by something.

A great fire, yes. It appears to be well within the sanction of my forest. My graceful children, harmed by this streak of rage. The entire forest engulfed in flames; who could do such a thing? The Great Deku Tree suddenly awoke abruptly at the sound of a bat, flapping its wings overhead. He could hear the most delicate things in nature; voices swarmed him from all directions. The animals of the forest; the earth itself; the plants, trees and many other things that grew spoke to him.
The tree loosened its brows slowly, peering up at the Moon. A sudden stiffness is carried among the breath of the wind, the Deku Tree thought, a sign of things to come? Or are my children, forest and I already in danger? Something’s already gone wrong. The disturbance of the races. Yes, that was surly it. It was true; the tree could sense it. Blood has already been spilt this night. The Hylians have struck at the Gerudos, an unwise move. My inner thoughts tell me that the king of Hyrule is up to no good...


Coran struck another Gerudo down and then another and another. These Gerudos definitely had an impressive plan: using their numbers to their advantage, and presumably another fact would be is their looks; they could easily steal the hearts of men. Wave after wave came. Coran’s naked blade blushed a rosy red in the illuminating Moonlight. This fight was definitely far from over. He wasn’t sure whether his men were fighting, but Coran was already worn out from the countless waves that he had already plowed through.
A couple of times Coran almost met his death upon resting a short while. But this time he was out of the hoard of Gerudos and off to the side, trying to regain his stamina. My god, he thought, how big of an army do they have? Well, mainly not an army, a group I should say. Huffing and puffing, he stood still, but kept his guard up. Just a little longer... A sudden battle cry awakened from behind him. Coran turned, but all he could see was blood and then everything...Black. His head rolled to the ground, blood trickling out from his severed head. Just a lifeless head staring up with already pale skin. The woman who killed him had crept up from behind and finished him off. She walked out from the shadows and glanced at his head, then kicked it off and down into the gushing river below. Commander Coran was dead...