Skyward: A Zelda fan story (Book One in the Skyward saga)

Prologue

       The long day was over, and the moon shone down upon the floating island of Skyloft. Although it was very late at night, Skyloft was peaceful with no demons, so there were still some people outside. One group of people was gathered at a wooden dock, the clouds drifting below them. The wooden boards of the deck creaked underneath their feet. The group consisted of about six people. Standing in front of the others was a tall young man, who appeared to be the one in charge. At his side was a large, magnificent bird, which was slightly taller than him, with a large, broad beak. It's chest was adorned with long, beautiful white feathers, which continued not only on it's chest, but underneath it. It had a long, fluffy, curled tail. But the most majestic part of the bird was none of these things, but the color and wings. On the bird's back, the feathers were a beautiful, light indigo. The wings were massive, with large feathers, although they were currently folded against the bird's sides. There were more of these birds, and each member of the group had one perched nearby. But none of them were the brilliant shade of blue-purple that the leader's bird was. Two of them were beige, one orange, one also orange (but a much lighter shade of orange), one a dirty green, the last one being yellow. The man at the front of the group turned around to face the others, a grin on his face. With a wave of his hand, he said something, and his comrades took a couple of steps forward, to the edge of the deck. The clouds swirled beneath them, their feet on the border between land and sky. The assembled group of people laughed and talked, smiling and cracking jokes as they waited for their leader to give the next instructions. The tall man nodded, smiling with them. He then slowly raised a colorful flag into the air. The flag was blue, with a crest, consisting of three golden triangles, painted in the middle. The other people froze, eyes wide with excited anticipation. The leader then thrust the flag down, and in a fraction of a second, everyone, except for the man in charge, ran and jumped off the deck and into the clouds below. The remaining man continued to stand there, on the deck, smiling. Then, from somewhere beneath him, a whistle rang out. After that, two more whistles followed, nearly at the same time, then soon after came a fourth whistle, and after a couple of seconds, another whistle was heard. Silence followed, but then the last whistle rang out, loud and clear. Moments passed, and then, someone from the group soared up from the depths into which he had just fallen- riding on his orange bird! Next came a girl piloting a light orange bird. After that, two twin boys ascended at the same time, riding identical beige birds. After a moment, a man appeared on the dirty-green bird, and eventually, a small girl with red hair followed on a yellow bird. The group of bird-riders hovered there, in the sky. Back on the deck, the group leader cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled out, as loud as he could: "Ready... set.... GO!" At once, the group of six people shot forwards, swooping high and low, dodging floating rocks, urging their birds forwards. It was a race! The competitors barreled past the houses and shops, fighting to stay in the lead as they circled the island of Skyloft. As the birds rushed past the windows, small children inside stirred, and, half awake, pressed their noses up against the windows, eyes wide in amazement, their breath fogging up the glass. The birds were nearing the end of the course, with the twins in the lead, the girl with the light orange bird not far behind. As they got closer, there was one last house that the racers had not passed by yet. As they shot past the windows, a single boy stood inside, hands pressed up against the windows, eyes sparkling with inspiration. His ash colored hair flew about as the last racer passed by the window. Dreams, and hopes, and determination swirled through his head, and at that point, the boy made a decision. He wanted to race. He would grow up to be like them. That was what he was going to do.

       Another bird, it's feathers crimson,  flew through the clouds, unseen, unnoticed. It hovered there, surveying the race from a distance. The bird scanned the island, searching... until it found what it was looking for. A small house stood near an oak tree. Inside, the bird could see a young boy gazing out the window. The bird seemed to smile in satisfaction. It's crimson feathers shone in the moonlight. The bird raised it's head, proudly. Don't worry, the bird thought. In due time, you will be great. When the time is right, I will train you...  The bird stayed a moment longer, then with a flap of it's mighty wings, it flew off, into the ending night, in the direction of the slowly rising sun.

TO BE CONTINUED