Rise of the Helmaroc King [Avian TF]

Not in a hundred years had such a foul gale blown across Windfall Island. There was no joyous laughter coming from children wondering up at the night sky. No gentle jostling of the boats in the harbor. Not a single firefly yearned to stretch its wings. Even the nightly auction house had closed up shop.

Only one soul traversed the old cobblestone streets. A dark man, shrouded in the lighthouse’s shadow, drifted through the market. He stopped at each shop, but only for just long enough to peer inside. Then he moved onto the next. Only when he had reached the House of Wealth was he satisfied.

He moved inside as a ghost.



The dark man extended a hand. At his fingertips, a dark purple mist consolidated, and formed mask that had spikes around its top, embroidered like a crown. The mask solidified into a curved steel mold that would fit onto a Hylian’s face.







Hayate clutched at his stomach. Another churn and he would lose what little pineapple stew he had left in his belly. Beedle’s Shop Ship was well known for their affordable prices on bombs, arrows, potions – any kind of weapon really. But not food. Definitely not food.

For someone who had lived his whole life in a world mostly covered by water, one might assume that Hayate wouldn’t be prone to seasickness. Normally they’d be right. Hayate was used to boat rides after all, short ones anyway. But he hadn’t anticipated the choppy seas around Windfall Island. They weren’t anything like the tranquil waters around Outset Island, where he was from. That, along with the foul soup, proved to be his undoing.

The morning hustle and bustle of shops opening their shutters was a welcome change for Hayate. He inhaled as deeply as he dared with a sick stomach, taking in all the fresh smells of newly blossomed lilacs, coconuts, and the warm sand on the beach.

“Hoi!” called a shopkeeper. “I’ve not seen you around before. Care to try a Jelly Juice? Finest in all the seas, I say!”

Hayate didn’t know what a Jelly Juice was, but he knew he didn’t want one, however good they might taste. But straight up denial wasn’t a great first impression to make on strangers, especially ones whose help he’d need soon enough. Hayate approached the shopkeeper’s window. Up close, the guy looked like a vampire. He had a long pointy nose, no hair at all, and reddish highlights bordering the bottom of his eyes.

“Er… pardon me for asking, but what’s a Jelly Juice?”

“Y… you don’t know about my world famous Jelly Juice? Why, you’re the very first! Jelly Juice is precisely what it sounds like. It’s juice… but jelly flavored! Doesn’t that just sound scrumptious, my dear boy?”

Oh, of course it was. It wasn’t like it was made from the people’s blood this guy probably kept in his basement, Hayate thought, eyeing a half empty flask of red liquid behind the counter. Totally not a vampire.

“Ahaha… thanks for the offer, but I’ve actually just had some lunc— er, breakfast,” Hayate said, his gaze dropping down from the shopkeeper’s eyes to his single tooth poking out from under his upper lip. At least it wasn’t a fang.

Maybe he was a disabled vampire.

Hayate pushed the thought from his mind. He hadn’t come all this way to think about how the islanders here might secretly be bloodsucking demons. “But I’ll definitely pick one up on my way back. They smell quite… unique.”

The shopkeeper’s face lit up. “Of course. I look forward to our next meeting. Is there anything you’re looking for that I can help you with?”

Hayate opened his mouth, and then closed it again. There was something he was looking for. He hadn’t made the long trek across the sea on a tangent, but it was hard to explain. Hayate knew that his motivation for making the trip would sound awkward no matter how he put it.

“Well, yes. I’m looking for a dress for my sister,” he said. “She’s got an important part in this ceremony on our island, and she wanted something outlandish. Something she couldn’t just buy at the local market.”

“She’s sent you all the way out here for that?” the shopkeeper asked. Hayate nodded.

“Well I’ll be… you’re a much better brother than I. If my sis’ ever asked me to do that for a stinkin’ dress, why I’d probably just laugh.”

Hayate smiled awkwardly. If it weren’t for Violet’s injury, Hayate might not have gone either. At the very least, he would have dragged her along too. He didn’t always act like her errand boy, after all.

“Ahaha, yeah. I get where you’re coming from. But see, she doesn’t just want a dress. She wanted a mask to go with it. If she hadn’t broken her arm last week, she’d be here with me.”

“Oh, well that’s just terrible to hear,” the shopkeeper said, pausing afterwards. “Let me think… the rich man who owns the House of Wealth had some masks last I heard. But listen here, he’s not been seen in there for a while now. Says something spooked him a few weeks back. Some kind of specter methinks it was.”

Hayate didn’t believe in ghosts, at least during the daytime when there were lots of people around. He also wasn’t overly fond of those who flaunted their riches. Considering the place was called the “House of Wealth,” he imagined the owner fell into that category.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Hayate said. “Where’s it at?”

The shopkeeper pointed a couple shops down the street. Hayate thanked him, and left.

On the outside, the House of Wealth didn’t look all that much different than the other buildings on Windfall Island. It had a mostly beige, rock-like exterior, and a green roof that matched the trees. Whoever had built it had gone to great lengths to make it appear as natural as possible. Hayate knocked twice.

No answer.

He knocked once more.

Still no answer.

Hayate jiggled the doorknob. To his surprise, it clicked open. He glanced at a sign on the wall adjacent to the door. It read, in all capital letters: “WE’RE OPEN!”

Hayate shrugged, and stepped inside. Unlike its average exterior, the building’s interior was lavish. A plush red carpet, embroidered with golden felt, was placed over an oak floor that looked as if it had been shined recently. On either side of the room, near the edges, were extravagant marble vases that looked as if they were imported from a distant land. At the far end of the hall was a stage with a few tables set up on it. Behind them, a clothes rack held dresses of various colors and textures.

Perfect.

Instead of taking a direct route to the stage, Hayate walked around the edges of the room, in between the carpet and the vases against the wall. The plush material the carpet was made of looked very expensive, and he knew his shoes were dirty and reeked of seawater. He didn’t want to leave Windfall Island with a 10,000-rupee debt.

There wasn’t any sign of the owner.

Hayate made his way onto the stage. He walked along the table closest to the stairs, which was covered in common items like bombs, arrows, and bags to store possessions in. Checking the tag on one of the sets of arrows, he found that they were twice the price of what Beedle had been asking.

How thoroughly unoriginal, an overpriced shop, he thought.

The next table was much more interesting. It was covered in masks of various shapes and sizes. Hayate recognized some of the creatures they were meant to resemble as critters common to Outset Island. There were wolves, pigs, and even a Cucco, but Hayate was pretty sure Violet wouldn’t want to be one of those for her big day.

Out of all the masks, there was only one that Hayate didn’t recognize. It was also the only one that was made from steel rather than some variety of wood. Curious, Hayate picked it up. Unlike the other masks, this one didn’t resemble an animal. The top was shaped like a wicked crown that a dark king would wear, and the spikes were outlined in crimson. Hayate wasn’t sure how anyone was supposed to see out of the thing, considering how it didn’t have eye holes, only pale yellow circles that he assumed were meant to be the eyes of whatever creature the mask represented.

Hayate knew that Violet wouldn’t like the mask, but he most certainly did. It would look great on the wall next to his bed, next to his wooden sword and shield. But still, what good was a mask that you couldn’t see out of? He turned it in his hands. It was heavy, and didn’t have any string attached to its edges, making him question just how one was supposed to wear it. Hayate lifted the mask to his face.

Only one way to find out.

The effect was immediate. The mask clung to his face like a magnet would its opposite. Hayate raised his hands to yank it off, but a sudden, splitting pain tore through his arms and stifled his attempt. He opened his mouth to cry out, but that too was silenced as the pain spread to his neck, and then to the rest of his body.

Hayate stumbled backwards, sending the table with all the common items crashing to the floor. Worse than the pain itself was his inability to see what was happening. The mask’s eyes weren’t transparent, but it felt as if a thousand needles were pressing out from under his skin. Hayate ripped at his arms. Each was rough, like his skin was covered in flakey grass.

And then, without warning, the pain stopped. Hayate’s heartbeat slowed, and he could breathe again. A voice resonated through his mind, rather than through his ears. It was powerful, authoritative.

Resist, and I’ll hurt you again.

Hayate didn’t recognize it. He glanced around the room for the source, but quickly realized that that was stupid since he couldn’t see. “Who’s there? Get this thing off me!”

The skin on Hayate’s arm tingled. He thought of scratching it. The moment he did, pain shot through his body as the needles protruded further, making bigger holes in his skin as they did so. An excruciating sting on his lower back forced Hayate to the ground. He writhed around, tossing from right to left, begging for the pain to stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Hayate pleaded. “I won’t scratch it.”

Don’t apologize. Obey, and this will be over quickly.

Hayate grimaced from under the mask; he would have go along with the voice for now. Just as he was about to open his mouth again, Hayate hesitated. He wanted to know what was happening to him, why it was happening, and to whom the voice belonged; but if he spoke, the pain might come back.

He kept quiet.

Obedience is rewarded.

Before Hayate could question the words, there was a swift blow dealt to the side of his head. Just before he lost consciousness, Hayate saw the black cape of someone standing off to his side.



Ganondorf smirked down at Hayate’s crumpled form. The mask salesman hadn’t disappointed him. This boy wasn’t quite as strong as he had been hoping for, but he was of the right species. Hylians were smart enough to understand orders, and easily breakable with the right pressure. Surely he came from a place where there were more like him. And in that place, there were likely to be females, one of which might even be… her. Ganondorf salivated at the thought that his ultimate plan might be ahead of schedule.

Hayate’s sky blue tunic ripped apart at its seams under the pressure of an emerging mass of dark violet feathers. And at the base of his back, four vibrant, streamer-like appendages of lime and darker greens began taking shape. Each, when fully stretched out, was about the length of his body.

His nose and mouth merged together and hardened into a wicked predator’s beak, curved at the tip for tearing into his prey, while his shoes gave way to large, three-fingered clammy talons. Underneath the mask, Hayate’s green eyes took on a brilliant shade of crimson, and his hair converged into three golden feathers, similar to a rooster’s.

Ganondorf knelt down beside him, and ran a finger along the side of Hayate’s beak, as fondly as a King of Gerudo could.

“A fitting servant for the new master of this realm. You will be my wings. And once that mask has finished its job, you won’t be disobeying me again,” he said, as Hayate’s form grew larger. “You shall help me scour the seas for Zelda, and once she is within my grasp, you will be rewarded once more. But…”

Ganondorf trailed off. “She could be anywhere, on any of these accursed islands. But mark my words… I’ll know her when I see her. The carrier of the Triforce of Wisdom shall not remain hidden for long. But where to start? Have you any ideas?”

Ganondorf peered into Hayate’s mind, probing for memories, friends, and… family. He smirked. There, at the forefront of Hayate’s consciousness was a young girl with pointy ears. Violet. “So, you have a sister. When you awaken, you will bring her, and anyone like her, before me at the Forsaken Fortress, where you will make nest.”

The dark king grinned a toothy grin as one of Hayate’s wings spread outward to the point where it knocked over one of the marble vases, and as his claws dug into the wall at the rear of the stage. “…Even while sleeping, you bring destruction to this world.”

Ganondorf began fading away into the mist in which he arrived, giving a last look to how Hayate’s mask resembled a crown. "I shall call you… the Helmaroc King.”

“Soon, I shall have my revenge.”



Hours later, Hayate awakened. The room was dark, and a cold wind was blowing in through the open door, which clattered on its hinges. Each rattle sent a shock through his heightened senses. He could see everything, feel everything. An ant crawled along the floor near one of the shattered vases, and an owl hooted from a distant corner of the island. He shook his head, trying to push away the invasive noises, but to no avail.

There was a rage coursing through his consciousness. A rage he had never felt before. Hatred. Fury. Passion.

And then there was... her. A girl with long, pointy ears smirked at him from out the doorway. She was the cause of his pain. She was the one the master wanted. He would take her away, and stop her from hurting him. Hayate opened his beak and screeched a terrible screech.

The House of Wealth’s windows shattered, but the girl’s grin only grew wider. Hayate was furious. He was going to catch her in his claws and not let go until he got back to the master. She wouldn’t escape this time. She wouldn’t get away with hurting him again.

Hayate spread his great wings and charged the front of the house. The beige sandstone was no match for his strength. It collapsed. Hayate didn’t lower his head. The mask would protect him as it always had. As the dust cleared, Hayate found the girl nowhere in sight.

Hayate tore at the earth with his talons, and lifted his head to screech. Where had she gone? He had to find her.

Then, a small island floated to the forefront of his mind. It seemed vaguely familiar, like from a long forgotten memory. He pondered on it for a moment. But before he could place it, the vision became clearer. Standing on the beach was the girl he had seen, still smirking at him. Another rage spike.

Hayate screeched and spread his wings. Soon she would be clenched his talons, begging for her life in front of the master. She wouldn’t be smirking then. Hayate pushed off from the ground and into the night sky. His destination: Outset Island.



Standing in the rubble of the House of Wealth was a skinny man with a backpack covered in masks. He smiled.