I would really love a beta reader. PM me or post in the reviews if you are interested.

Chapter 1

Sometimes, I wonder what "enough" is, in terms of duty. It often appears to us mere mortals as an unachievable height. A level of work and devotion so high that it may never be reached, and rightly so, for without it, there would be nothing to work towards. Yet at the same time, were duty never to be fulfilled, then a higher responsibility couldn't replace it. Perhaps the true question is not whether one's met their duty "enough", but rather, how much fulfillment the duty itself warrants.

I am no stranger to duty. I have governed my entire life around duties and responsibilities. From a very young age, I charged myself with protecting my childhood friend from those who would harm him. That meant enrolling myself into the knight's academy at the tender age of eight, when most could barely pass the strict requirements at twelve. It meant training day and night, building my strength, keeping vigilent and ignoring temptation. I work among the finest guards in all the kingdom, and even they do not have the strong, insurmountable duty that I possess. But their charge is only a king to them; to me, it is a beloved friend.

I have known the king since we were both young boys, playing in the fields or learning to ride horses together. Prince Javian was constantly surrounded by the children of the nobles, but I was the only one whom he actually called a friend. Such an honor is, to this day, hard for me to accept, and I will forever be working towards making myself worthy to receive it. With my bloodline, I could've easily become a Duke or a Chancellor. But I swore to protect Javian, and the quill of a noble would do nothing to stop the blade of an assassin. So, to the dismay of my pretentious family, I chose the lowly sword instead.

It led me to a good life. While I no longer can speak to King Javian with the candor of a child, he still seeks my council, still treats me like an equal, even though I am so very far below him. I developed a close kinship with one of the king's servants, and after courting her for only weeks, she happily agreed to be my wife. She, like I, served the king diligently. But my wages as a guard payed enough to allow her to leave work, and start a family with me.

Together, we built a rickety little home at the edge of town, and we had three children. A little boy with her beautiful red hair, and my strange green eyes, and twin girls who even as toddlers look exactly like their mother, with warm, brown eyes and soft, curly hair. While it is my duty to protect my king, I live for the moment when I walk through the door, and my children jump into my arms, and my wife gently rises off of her rocking chair, and wraps her arms around me as well. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel the arms of my family, so soft and warm...

"Wake Up," I tell myself sternly. Many good men have died because those who were supposed to protect them let their guard down. This tournament would be the perfect opportunity for an assassin to attack the king. He's exposed, in his seat at the very top of the arena. And the guards are either bored of the poor swordsmanship, or distracted by the rare, talented warriors. Edgily, I move closer to Javian, and place my hand on the hilt of my sword.

"Relax, Link. I believe you are capable of both guarding me and enjoying yourself," He says gently.

"I apologize, my liege, but these warriors do not merit my attention," I reply. All the same, I take my hand off of the hilt. He is the king, and it is my duty to follow all of the orders he gives, however foolish I believe them to be. Were he to order that I jump off into the fighting below, I would do so without a moment's hesitation.

"Indeed. I do wish you would enter yourself into this tournament. Perhaps it would help the public, to know that their king is being protected by the very best."

"With respect, your majesty, if I were fighting below, then who would be guarding you?" I ask, smiling. "Besides, it is not the place of a knight to seek adoration. Far better that your assailants are left in the dark about my skill with a blade, so that they may discover it only at their own demise."

"I suppose there is wisdom in that. Still, your contribution would make this much less intolerable," King Javian responds, frowning in distaste. I nod in agreement; thus far, the duelists all would've been kicked out of the Knight's academy, and that's where mere children train.

For three grueling, uneventful hours, the fighting continues. Admittedly, a few bright spots fill the monotony, making things bearable. But were it not for my warrior's discipline, I would've fallen asleep several times. Even Javian has a hard time keeping his eyes open.

Anyone can enter into the Swordsmanship Tournament, so long as they bring their own blade. And the winner receives the finest sword that the castle Smith can craft, as well as the honor of touching the legendary Blade of Salvation. It is said that those who touch the Blade of Salvation are cleansed of all evil, and given an almost magical calm. Though I've never put much stock in magic.

In the last round of the preliminaries, I see one of my fellow guards, Seviller, enter the arena below. Despite the fact that I urged the rest of the guards not to enter, seeing him fills me with relief. Perhaps, with one of the king's guards in the fray, the fighting may grow a bit more interesting, and the honor of touching the Blade of Salvation will fall on someone who actually deserves it.

He stands alone in the arena for a long while, awaiting the entrance of his opponent. Finally, he arrives. As the man walks through the large, ornate doors leading to the battlefield, there's an almost collective sigh from the audience. Seviller is adorned from head to toe in the finest of steel armor, bearing a fine longsword and a large kite shield, with the emblem of the king painted on the front. The stranger, in contrast, wears simple clothing, and only carries a short sword that looks so pathetic that it might as well be a dagger.

He lingers in the shadows, rather than stepping forwards into the sunlight. After an awkward pause, the announcer shouts, "For the final duel in round one, it will be Seviller, the noble guard, fighting… Vaati, the, uh, stranger." Clearly this "Vaati" fellow told them nothing about himself before entering.

Seviller, ever cautious, slowly walks forwards, but doesn't move beyond the center of the arena. Were I in his shoes, I would do the same thing; remaining in the center gives you room on all sides, should it be needed either defensively or offensively.

Vaati sighs, and slowly comes into the sunlight. My preconceptions about him being weak are completely shattered when I see his face. His very skin seems to extrude darkness, perpetually plunging him in shadow. He has the deathly grey pallor of a corpse, and the wrinkles of an old man. But by his unassuming height and his small, soft features, I would call him a child, no more than eighteen years old. His expression, one of smug superiority, also adds to the sense of worry he emits. But mostly, his eyes, a bright, cruel red, make him appear to be the most threatening figure I've ever seen. And… there's something more. Something about him sends shivers of fear up my spine. Somehow, I understand now why he doesn't wear armor or carry a longer sword.

He doesn't need it.

"Please do relax, Link," the king says once more. "Perhaps now that we have a guard dueling, we'll see some real swordsmanship." Vaguely, I realize that once again, I'm gripping my sword. This time, it's in a grip so strong that my knuckles are turning white. But I don't let go; when the king says "please", it is not an order, but rather a request. And I am free to ignore his requests as I see fit.

"Sire," I whisper urgently, "There's something wrong here. I believe this stranger puts us all in grave danger. I would strongly urge you to leave, right now."

"Why do you believe that?" King Javian asks, genuinely confused.

"I… I do not know, sire. But if nothing else, the look of him is enough to put any warrior on edge."

"Odd. I find the man to be rather dashing, all things considered. He has a strong face. In fact, he looks much like you. Is that what you find disconcerting?"

"He looks… like me?" I ask incredulously. Either I've undergone some hideous transformation, or the king and I are seeing two very different people.

"Yes, Link. He has your short, blond hair, your large stature, your dark, tan skin. His armor even looks similar to yours. The only notable difference is that his eyes are blue, not green. A very handsome fellow, all things considered."

"Sire," I say in a low, dark voice, "Something is very, very wrong." The stranger has long, grey hair, not blond hair. He's small, and so twiggy that it surprises me that he can even lift the sword he carries. And he isn't wearing any sort of armor; he dons a purple tunic, covered by a flowing, black cape.

"Nonesense. The man is perfectly normal. Looking similar to the leader of my guards is not a crime, and provides no real threat. I certainly will not leave just because it makes you uncomfortable, and it shocks me that you would suggest it. I will hear no more from you on the subject of this stranger. Understood?" Suddenly, his voice is not that of my friend Javian, but of the mighty king, whose voice is heard above all others.

For the first time in my life, I legitimately consider disobeying his command. But on the day in which I was knighted into the protection of the king, in the moment that he placed his sword atop my head, he said that the highest duty I had, above even protecting him, was trusting him and obeying his commands. I know, deep in my heart, that this man represents the biggest threat to the king that I've ever encountered. But the king has commanded that I be silent on the matter. And I live to obey the commandments of the king.

But I do not remove my hand from my sword at any time.

Slowly, the stranger Vaati moves towards Seviller. Seviller bangs his sword against his shield, drawing a few, disjointed cheers. But the rest of the onlookers are gazing directly at Vaati, almost as though they're in a trance. It occurs to me that the sigh they uttered when he entered the arena was not a sigh of pity, as I took it to be, but a sigh of adoration. They must see Vaati as what the king does; a strong, handsome warrior.

Vaati remains still, and abruptly starts grinning, revealing yellow, rotten teeth. For no apparent reason, Seviller begins swinging his sword about, as though he's attacking an invisible foe. The crowd, to my astonishment, starts cheering them on. "See Link," the king says knowingly, "it's good that we stayed. You may actually learn something of swordsmanship from this talented stranger."

For a grueling few minutes, Seviller fights his non-existent foe, all while Vaati stays back, grinning. Soon enough, he has Seviller pinned to the wall, and he raises both arms in surrender. Vaati waits for a few moments, then walks into the center of the arena, and takes a bow.

"I do wish you would have entered. A duel between you and this "Vaati" would be incredible. I myself do not know who would win."

I nod, and remain silent, as per the instructions of my king.

The tournament continues much in the same manner. Every time the stranger comes up to fight, he simply stands in the shadows as his foe is defeated by a warrior I cannot even see. The king occasionally comments on how talented the stranger is, and I suppress my desire to tell him that, in my eyes, the stranger has done nothing but stand still, grinning his smug, arrogant grin. My level of concern only rises as I see him slowly make his way to the top of the tournament, and come out victorious.

"It is my honor to announce this year's winner as Vaati, of the house of…" The announcer trails off awkwardly, and looks to Vaati for an answer. Vaati smiles, but remains silent. Shrugging, he moves on. "Thank you all for attending this unique tournament. Fare well."

The crowd gently disperses, and, smiling, the king rises from his seat. "Sire," I say quickly, before he can leave to congratulate Vaati. "I know that, traditionally, the victor receives their blade and touches the sword in a private ceremony, with only the royal family present. However, traditionally, the victor is a trusted warrior who grew up in the kingdom and has pledged their allegiance to you. With respect, we know nothing about this stranger, and I would be remiss if I did not recommend that you allow a few guards to watch the ceremony, for your protection."

"Agreed. The thought had occurred to me that Vaati may have entered for the sole purpose of getting me alone. That he may be an assassin from another kingdom. Of course I will have guards present under these circumstances. I had decided that the moment he entered the tournament. I would appreciate a little more faith from you, Link."

"I apologize, your majesty," I reply, my tone colored with shame.

King Javian nods. A bit more gently, he asks, "Is this all that is bothering you?"

"No, my liege. But you ordered me to still my tongue on the matter of Vaati. And… were I to tell you what concerns me, you'd think me insane."

"Best, then, to keep silent," He agrees. "All the same, keep vigilant throughout the ceremony, in case your fears are justified."

"You wish me to witness the ceremony?" I ask hesitantly.

"Of course. You are without a doubt the finest guard among my ranks. It would be wise for me to seek your protection." My face reddens a bit at the compliment and, not for the first time, I appreciate the helmet which masks my expression.

The king nods. "Follow me," he instructs, as he climbs down towards the arena. Respectfully, the remaining members of the crowd part, bowing as he walks past them. Like a wave, the whole arena bows, showing respect for their king. I myself bow my head.

But the stranger, Vaati, remains perfectly upright, looking down on the rest of us with derision.

"Bow before the king," I hiss at him, as we finally reach the floor of the arena. He laughs, and, mockingly, bows for a split second. The king smiles, completely missing the superiority on Vaati's face. I have to wonder what the bow looked like coming from the handsome warrior the king sees.

"I congratulate you on your accomplishment, noble warrior," The king says grandly.

"And you on yours, fine king," Vaati responds. I feel the sudden, childish urge to punch this cocky stranger in the face. His voice is like that of a child's; high and nasally. But the dark sarcasm in it makes it so annoyingly superior that I wish I could literally cut him down to size.

But the king, as before, is completely oblivious to it. He probably hears a deep, respectful voice, just as he sees a strong, respectful warrior. "Indeed. The victor's ceremony shall now commence. If you'll follow me into the castle, you shall receive your rewards."

"I can't wait," He replies, snickering.

Without another word, the king turns and leads Vaati out of the arena and into the castle. Along the way, he instructs me to bring as many guards as I see fit into the ceremony. So I gather all of them who I can find. By the time we arrive, a small army of fifty four guards follow my every step, their armor clanking in almost perfect unison. We move to the courtyard outside the vault, and Zelda, the king's daughter, is already waiting there, holding the smith's sword. She's only seven years old, but she still stands with the grace of a lady, and carries the regal air of royalty with her. If the king bears no male heir, then she will make a fine queen to her people.

Moving with uncanny grace for one so young, Zelda walks towards Vaati, and gently hands him the sword, bowing her head gently. He nods, and tries to grab onto it with one hand. But the heavy blade appears to be too much for him, so he simply drops it. The people around me all must see something different, as they all politely clap for him.

"And now, for the Blade of Salvation," The king says grandly. "Link, fetch it from the vault." He pulls a large, golden key off of his neck. Carefully, I accept it. The shiny golden key looks wrong in my worn, steel gauntlet.

The huge, steel door to the vault opens with the turn of the little gold key. Nervously, I make my way into the vault. It isn't terribly large, but the small, dark room is filled to the brim with priceless treasures. Gems, weaponry, paintings… every form of wealth imaginable fills the vault of the kingdom. But I move past it quickly; the king tasked me with bringing out the Sword of Salvation, not with admiring the riches.

At the end of the room lies a large chest with a gleaming, clear sword slammed on top of it. I know, just by looking at it, that this must be the Sword of Salvation. Even in the almost complete darkness of the vault, it glows gently, and makes the room feel warm. For a split second, I'm tempted to touch the beautiful blade. But that's an honor that I have not earned.

Instead, I carry the heavy chest, up the stairs and back into the sunlight. There's an almost collective gasp from everyone in the courtyard as they glimpse the beautiful blade. Except for Vaati. He instead starts laughing.

A loud, raucous laugh escapes his lips, and he makes no effort to contain it. He throws his head back and laughs, the sound sending fear through me. Strangely enough, the other guards and even the king share the same look.

"What have you done with Vaati?" The king demands, taking a step back.

"You fool," Vaati replies, laughing once more. "I am Vaati. I have always looked like this. The warrior you saw was a simple deception. Your weak minds were so very easy to fool."

"Whether or not this is your real appearance, you are not the man who won the tournament. Surrender the sword, and my guards will escort you out of my kingdom. You will no longer be welcome here," King Javian says bitingly.

Vaati laughs once more. "All right, good king, I'll 'surrender the sword'," He replies, grinning. Without any movement on his part, a strange, thick mist of darkness surrounds the sword and gently lifts it into the air. Then, with blinding speed, it hurls itself at the king. Barely, I'm able to draw my own sword and deflect it, so it simply speeds harmlessly into the wall.

Immediately, the guards rush at the stranger. "Fools!" I think to myself. The highest goal of a guard is to protect the king. Charging at the clearly powerful stranger will only serve to enrage him, and it will make it difficult to protect the king from further harm. Instead, they should have formed a protective circle around him.

Vaati laughs once more. This time, he raises his arms, and thrusts them out at the guards. A shockwave of pure, black energy blasts forwards, knocking them off their feet. As it comes over me, it pushes me over, but doesn't really hurt. None of the other guards rise off of the ground, and they clearly aren't smart enough to feign weakness, so they're probably unconscious. So, like them, I lie on the ground, pretending the wave knocked me out. Fortunately, it stopped before it reached the king or his daughter.

"Wonderful!" Vaati exclaims, clapping his hands. "And now, allow me to touch the Sword of Salvation." Grinning, he reaches over and pushes his hand on the blade, sliding a long, yellow fingernail down it. The pure, clear blade seems to shudder at his touch, and, before my eyes, it breaks cleanly in half.

"Stop this at once!" King Javian shouts. Vaati ignores him. Brushing aside the broken blade, he opens the chest it was stabbed through. A massive wave of darkness pours out, and quickly rises above our heads. But beyond that, there's nothing in the chest, save the other half of the sword he broke.

"What?!" Vaati asks, looking around. "Where is he?" For the first time, Vaati's face doesn't look superior. He looks terrified.

Bellowing unintelligibly, Vaati turns to the king once more. "Where have you stashed him?!" He screams. The king doesn't respond.

"Tell me, or your daughter dies!" Vaati shouts, sending a ball of darkness at Zelda. She backs away, but it reaches her, and pushes her up against the wall.

"I… I do not know who you are talking about. Please, don't touch her," The king whispers. He sounds so very defeated.

Vaati scowls, and the darkness picks Zelda up and slams her against the wall. I can hear her bones snap, see her frail, lifeless body fall to the floor.

"No…" Javian whispers, his voice cracking.

"Where's your pride now, oh mighty king?" Vaati sneers. "You act so strong, but at your heart, you're such a baby. Allow me to help you act your own age."

Vaati grins, and pushes his hands out at the king. A ball of darkness flies at him, moving with incredible speed. I'm not sure how, but I know that it would hurt the king. Despite his cocky words, Vaati is panicking, because he didn't find whatever he was looking for. He's acting out of a place of fear. And fear is the strongest motivation there is. The assassin who seeks to kill with anger will often fail without any intervention on my part. It's the assassin moved by fear that I must stop.

And now, Vaati is that assassin.

Before the darkness can reach the king, I jump to my feet. Time seems to slow down, allowing me to appreciate the fact that I could easily be killing myself by blocking the darkness. But I made the promise to sacrifice everything for the king long ago. So it's not really a decision. I only wish that my family didn't have to suffer for it. But our king is kind. When I die in his service, I know he will take care of them.

Even though it's probably foolish, I close my eyes before jumping at the darkness. I can feel it hit me, and I can feel the raw, magical power it contains. But some part of me, some strange, new part that I've never noticed before, comes alive, and begins fighting that power. My body turns into a war between Vaati's horrible darkness and a strange sense of light within myself. After mere seconds, the fighting becomes unbearable, and I fall to the floor.

Through the fog of extreme tiredness, I feel… wrong. As my body hits the floor, I know that something's wrong. All of my sensations, all of my proportions, all of… me feels different. But I'm far too tired to stay awake long enough to figure it out.

Barely, I catch Vaati's last words. "Forget it, I'll deal with your groveling pet later. Goodbye, king Javian. We will meet again."