The Oblivion (Fierce Deity Link x Reader)

Chapter 1- Dark Light

A/N: 4/16/2024 Hello! Long time no see. I am revisiting this story. If you are reading for the first time or re-reading it, I am re-writing it. Please take a look at the new version if you are interested. Thank you!

??? POV

I was this close to the power, the ultimate, divine power that has eluded me all my years of existence. I would conquer that land that once was my home then, then I would conquer the rest of this land in which I am imprisoned now. The sweet, bitter irony of this outcome would have made me chuckle at the mere thought. To be released, temporarily, and imprisoned again by a mortal youth. It was a meager taste of freedom, but such a simple pleasure must come at a price. Like a drug it infected my body, my sanity until it controlled my very being. I want the freedom from this wretched containment. Put here by that pitiful Goddess the mortals worship so much, because of her fear of what I was becoming. Her fear empowered her, it destroyed me. Now I waste my days away, waiting for some pathetic mortal who wishes to have their soul drained for essence to destroy themselves so that I may live. I consume the victims who wear my mask, their life essence goes on to fuel my thirst for vengeance. Destroying everything that the Goddess has created with the little time I have till the host becomes to weak to wear the mask. Then I wait in a desolate and silent prison for my next release into the world. I feel the mask weakening, after all these years the mask is finally weakening. The last one to wear the mask made a mistake by resisting so much so, the more he resisted the more and more the mask's power waned. His powerful soul, I now learn carried the Triforce of Courage, was too much for the mask to handle. The binding that is keeping me here has kept its place for seven more long years. It only needs one special push to make the final chains fall. Then I can leave this forlorn place of solitude. I need to escape. I need a breathe of freedom. I need... I need her.

Your POV

The blood, the chains, the screams, the pure horror seemed all too real. Even for my usual nightmares it seemed all too true, I felt the flames, the fear, the adrenaline. Like I was transported into time and set there to die. I stifled a small shiver as visions of my nightmare ran up the length of my spine. I needed keep my wandering and frazzled mind focused on the task at hand, and the many ahead. My (s/c) hands worked tirelessly as they polished the last brass candle holder. Sighing at a job well done, I placed them back to their proper spots. I stared at them for a little while longer, scrutinizing the decency of my work, before looking back at the walls of books. Rows and stacks of old, tattered information from scrolls to books to heirlooms arranged expertly in neat shelves. Languages I couldn't read, ancient weapons I didn't know existed, and things I had no clue about what they even were surrounded me in ancient knowledge. I giddily trotted over to the large red drapes that covered the single ceiling to floor window decorated with magnificent ancient Hylian text and a depiction of a golden goddess. This goddess carried in her hands what looks to be a gem of some sort with a mysterious figure shrouded in night blue at her feet. The text was kind of hard to understand, but could be loosely translated as "he who carries the gift of courage must join together with the gifted ones...a blackened light will rise in this blessed land turning trusted to terror with a servant to rule with. He must be stopped." I smiled, enjoying the beauty of this sweet majesty. Letting the light of early morning flood into the room, I hooked the dusty drapes to the sides of the window. Colors splashed onto the walls and floor where the stain glass was plastered, and warm sunlight filled the rest. I ran along the isles of books, gently placing my fingers on each one. Stopping suddenly, I noticed something odd hanging from the wall. It was in a far back corner of the room where the shadows still lingered. Curiosity, something that gets me into mischief more often than not, washed over me like a wave. I timidly stepped toward it, gingerly running my hand over the aging wood and accurate designs. It appeared to be a mask of some sort. Painted white with red and yellow markings, I quickly recognized the symbol to be of the Sheika tribe.