• Published 4th Jul 2018
  • 23,095 Views, 3,920 Comments

The Power of Freedom - Greatazuredragon

Having long grown utterly bored with the destiny the gods had decreed for him, Ganondorf decided to take matters into his own hands and escape to a new dimension where he could be free. Even if that would mean turning into a pastel colored pony.

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Interlude - Remnant

Interlude - Remnant

Everything around him was burning.

Plumes of smoke and ash billowed towards the heavens. Noon had turned to night as the firestorm raged. Rivers of molten magma were visible through the cracked stones of the pavement and the collapsed buildings, their fierce crimson glow giving the landscape an even more hellish appearance.

And amidst the desolation, Ganondorf walked alone.

He walked through the ruined landscape, untouched by the rampaging conflagration, the heat, the smoke. Tired golden eyes took in the entirety of this ruined land. Of this once thriving city, now nothing more than rubble. A single truth was acknowledged by the Wielder of Power’s mind.

He had been the one to do this.

Ganondorf walked past a large destroyed temple, its intricate murals and exquisite sculptures now indistinguishable from the surrounding rubble. Only a single statue remained standing, the statue of a regal looking woman adorned with red jewels. She stood right next to the destroyed remains of two other statues. And, despite the fact that the harsh light of the fires hid her features in shadow, he somehow knew that she looked at him in silent judgment.

Destruction and fury, wrath and desolation. Once upon a time that had been all that he had known, as anger suffused his very being down to his very soul in his eternal quest for greater power. That had been his whole world, and he had thrived on it.

Ganondorf turned his back to the destroyed and ruined temple and the statue’s silent gaze. He kept his stride calm and slow, neither the flames nor the destruction all around barring his progress for even a moment as he casually moved towards the nearby lookout so that he could fully take in the razed city. A small, barely perceptible frown was firm upon his features.

It had once been a painfully pleasant sensation. The sheer catharsis and satisfaction he used to take from the pure, utter destruction he could unleash upon the world at a mere whim. The satisfying feeling of bringing terror, hate and despair towards his enemies, of crushing those who attempted to block him from claiming what he sought, what he once fully believed was rightfully his and his alone. Once upon a time, that had brought him nothing but joy as he sought to claim the world for his own.

Once upon a time…

And yet, as the centuries went by, everything remained the same no matter what happened. The cycle of destruction repeated itself time and time again no matter what. Regardless of his wishes or desires, things remained exactly the same. Slowly but surely the joy of these actions started to wear thin and he found out that instead he had started to find it all… empty.

He gazed at the burning wreckage that had once been Hyrule Castle in the distance, framed by the destruction all around, and highlighted by the lights of the fires. His ears folded against his head as his hooves angrily stomped at the cracked pavement while a single thought reverberated through his mind.

What was the point?

The Dark Lord let out a tired sigh as he closed his eyes, the small sound lost amidst the roar of the flames and the crumbling of stone, as he let the burning wind caress his coat.

All the death and destruction he had wrought in search of his ultimate goal. All the lives he had destroyed and kingdoms he had ruined, the cities razed and the nations he had toppled, all of it. Everything was empty and meaningless, for his goal was simply never attainable in the first place. And that undeniable truth had drained whatever pleasure he had once taken from the actions of his past.

There was no point.

And yet, even so he had been forced to keep trotting down that path due to the whims of uncaring gods and the curses of fate. To endure it, marked and bound to this destiny by no actions of his own, doomed to this role until the final twilight of the world and the end of all things.

“But no longer,” the Wielder of Power muttered as his eyes opened with a snap. A fierce fanged grin was now firm upon his features as he gazed at the devastation before his eyes with open contempt.

He had shattered the chains of his past, crushed the bonds of his loathsome destiny, and carved a new path for himself where he and he alone was the master of his own fate. The past was dead and buried; now all that remained was the future. A future he was now free to shape with his own hooves.

With a final sneer he turned his back to the burning ruins with finality and started to trot away, eyes resolutely gazing at the far horizon and the coming dawn that was slowly starting to light up the shadowed visage of Din’s statue…

Only for the still standing wall of the temple right next to him to explode into a fiery conflagration of sickly crimson flames, as something large shoved its way through the stone like it was nothing. Before he could react, a crushing blow hit his chest and threw him back into the burning ruins of the city. An otherworldly bellow of pure undiluted hatred resonated throughout the burning city, as if seeking to consume all of creation underneath its unbridled wrath.

Ganondorf quickly climbed back onto his hooves and gazed at whatever had dared to strike against him, power coursing through his veins and a snarl on his lips. His expression froze when his eyes met a pair of equally golden orbs staring back at him with nothing but rage and fury within them.

And, in that moment of inaction, the gargantuan boar-like demon now crushing Din’s statue underneath its claws bellowed its wrath and hatred once again, as the world was consumed by fury and flame.

Ganondorf’s eyes snapped open in an instant. Only centuries of arduous training and harsh discipline allowed him to remain still upon his bedroll and not wake up those around him, despite how his heart thundered within his chest.

He took a long deep breath and held it in, before letting it out with a low long hiss. The large pony calmly rose from the comfort of his blankets and deftly moved around those still sleeping all around him on his way out of the tent. He neared a water barrel, submerged a cup into the cool clear liquid and emptied it in a single gulp as the cold night winds chilled his now lightly sweaty brow.

He placed the cup aside and moved towards the outskirts of the encampment. Signaling towards the ponies on watch duty that all was well he sat down just beyond the ring of light cast by the many fires encircling it.

Ganondorf stood there unmoving for a moment, taking in the tranquility and splendor of the night sky. Before, with another deep breath, he closed his eyes, and, for the first time in more than a few centuries, started to meditate.

The Wielder of Power stood there for several moments, a silent monolith in the darkness as he directed his whole focus inwards. He focused deeper and deeper into his own being, towards a part of himself he more often than not rather liked to pretend didn’t exist, only to confirm what he already knew from the moment his eyes had snapped open.

Deep within his being, in the darkest recesses of his very soul, the majority of the vast array of seals, wards and chains he had painstakingly created through centuries of effort and toil laid broken and shattered. And even the few that still remained were slowly but surely starting to crack and unravel as a bellow of pure fury echoed from deep within the darkness.

“This could be a problem,” Ganondorf muttered to himself as he opened his eyes and glared into the night sky, a frown clear upon his brow as he realized what this meant.

That Demise’s Curse was escaping its bindings.

Author's Note:

“My hate...never perishes. It is born anew in a cycle with no end! I will rise again! Those like you... Those who share the blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero... They are eternally bound to this curse. An incarnation of my hatred shall ever follow your kind, dooming them to wander a blood-soaked sea of darkness for all time!”
The last words of Demise, the King of Demons

So here is the answer to your many questions regarding the curse. The damned thing is not only still active and inside of Ganondorf, but the dimensional travel broke most of the bindings he had created to keep it chained down and it’s now trying to escape. For, by breaking the chains of fate holding the Trio down, Ganondorf has unknowingly done the same to it.

One wonders how the Curse, the embodiment of Demise’s eternal hatred, is affecting all the Windigos running around… :trixieshiftright: