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((PLEASE READ! 03/10/15: I felt I cut this a little short, left things out and didn't clarify stuff. So I went through and edited this a bit(by a bit I mean a lot!). I added a little back story to the city's origins. I hope it flows better and makes sense now.))

((A/N: I know Volga's origins are different from what I write in the story. After doing some research, I chose to use my original idea, yet keep how he became under Cia's control.))

Dead bodies littered the streets, either burned or brutally sliced at by the demons that ran rampant in the city. Hideous green skinned creatures screeched victoriously as men, women, and children fell prey to their blades. Two knights remained out of the ten that protected their world. One of them fought at the front while the other attempted to lead any survivors to safety, fighting off the intruders with her sword and ice magic. To her dismay, she had yet to find more survivors. Nearly a quarter of the city's population had made it out alive.

She quickly became cornered by the Bublins, pinned to the wall of an alley. A hand was pressed to her bicep to stop the blood seeping from a wound. As they kept closer to her, with jeering fangs and roars, the Dragon Knight retreated. The woman sent ice shards flying into the Bublins for a distraction. She bent her legs and used her strength to jump high into the air. She quickly turned into an ice blue dragon and darted towards her fellow knight's position, ignoring the pain she felt with each downward thrust of her wings.

The sound of powerful wings beating the air drew two sets of eyes up to the sky. They remained fixed on the dragon as it landed a few yards away from them and changed back into a human. The woman ran up to the man clad in red armor.

"Volga, we have to retreat," she reported to him. "I've looked for survivors and there are none. The Bublin have taken over the city." Her (e/c) eyes narrowed in concern when her friend didn't answer. He stood as still has a statue, breathing shallowly. "Volga?" She raised a hesitant hand to his shoulder plate.

"Who is this?" a woman's sultry voice asked the warrior of fire.

"(y/n)," Volga answered, his voice clipped. "Her name's (y/n), and she's a Dragon Knight like me."

The woman sighed in annoyance. "I thought I killed them all." She brushed her hair away from her face with a flick of her wrist. "Well, I guess I'll have to switch things up a little." She walked up to the woman in reserved white armor.

"Who are you?" (y/n) asked warily. Her gloved right hand brushed the hilt of her sword. She didn't like the energy radiating off the woman. It made her nauseous it was so negative.

"I am Cia, and you'll take your orders from me now." (y/n)'s eyes watched the curvaceous sorceress saunter up to her with a hand on her hip.

(y/n) gripped her sword's hilt and drew it out, only to be stopped by Volga's hand on her wrist. She glanced up at him in shock. He shook his head at her. (y/n) noticed his once vibrant green eyes had dulled. His entire countenance had darkened. The knight gasped. He wasn't Volga anymore. She spun her head towards Cia with a glare.

"What did you do to him?!" (y/n) growled at her. It lingered deep in her throat in a menacing manner.

Cia chuckled at the outburst. "I just gave him what he wanted," she said with a smirk. "The pain of not being strong enough to save his people was too great. He has the strength now, and I know for a fact that he's never going to give it up."

(y/n)'s face saddened. "No," she whispered. She spun back to Volga. "No. You didn't!" she pleaded with him.

"You can be just as strong, (y/n)," Volga told her. His deep voice was smooth and convincing. He placed his hands on her shoulders. "Fight with me. We can be powerful. Together."

(y/n) stared at him. She felt tears pool in her eyes. She shook her head. "No." The warrior of ice forcefully removed his hands from her. "Not like this." She stepped away from him.

"(y/n)." Volga's tone became threatening. "There's nothing here for us. It's been razed to the ground. Come with me and Cia! At least we'll have a life."

The woman shook her head in denial. "No. This is wrong. I will not join you."

"What a pity," Cia said in a sing-song way. "You would have made a great general, (y/n). I'm afraid you'll have to die." The sorceress turned to Volga. "Finish her."

The fire dragon withdrew his spear and stalked up to (y/n). He spun it in his hand expertly. Instead of running away, (y/n) stood firm. She drew her own sword and held it at her side. Cia was confused when (y/n) didn't take a defensive stance. Volga swung the spear, coming to a stop inches away from her throat. His arms shook as he restrained himself from slicing off her head. (y/n) saw the fight in his eyes. Her heart ached. Volga clenched his teeth with a sneer.

"Finish her!" Cia shouted.

Volga continued staring (y/n) down. His breathing became labored and his arms shook harder. He couldn't do it. Standing in front of him was one of the few people he let into his life. He roared as he threw the spear to the side. "I can't . . ." he gasped. "I can't do it."

"Fool!" Cia snapped as she picked up his spear and rushed up to him. "You will kill her!" She took his hand and forced it to grip the shaft. "Do it!"

(y/n) eyes widened when Volga's aura surged and darkened. Her hunch had been right. Cia had him under her control. Volga grunted as he adjusted to Cia's increased hold on him. His glove creaked as he clenched the spear tighter. Without warning he threw a wave of fire at (y/n), making her stagger back at the singeing heat. Using it as cover, he ran through the flames and struck.

A sharp gasp left (y/n)'s lips as her eyes opened. She shot upright at the sensation of her back being scorched, using her arms to support her weight. The sudden movement made her back scream. The skin was tight and burned fiercely. (y/n) cried out and squeezed her eyes shut to block the pain. She also felt the sharp sting in her side and the blood running down her skin. She must have opened the gash. Stray tears fell to the floor, darkening the stones where they splashed.

A pair of hands rested on her biceps, avoiding her bare burned shoulders. "Calm down!" their owner's feminine voice said. "You're safe now. I'll take care of you."

(y/n)'s (e/c) eyes darted towards the woman, taking in her attire; she dressed like a medical cleric. Her eyes took in the unfamiliar room, taking in every inch. From what she could tell, she must be in an infirmary of some sort. She breathed heavily as she relaxed enough to lay back down on her stomach. The knight remembered that Volga had scorched her back as she rolled away from an attack. Rendered immobile due to the burn, he towered over her and with a yell of finality, slashed at her side. They had danced around each other, matching the others' strength for nearly fifteen minutes. It was because of Cia Volga overpowered her and left her scarred, not just physically, but emotionally.

The door to the room opened and in rushed another cleric followed by a very intimidating woman. (y/n) didn't recognize the races of the women, which meant she had fled to a far away land. How far she had no idea.

"What happened?" the other cleric asked as she sat in a chair on the other side of the bed. "I heard screaming."

"I'm fine," (y/n) murmured. "Nightmares."

The women hummed in understanding. One attended to the wound on her side while the other tended to her back.

"W-where am I?" (y/n) asked the darker skinned woman.

"You're in Hyrule," the Sheika answered as she folded her arms across her chest. "Where are you from?"

"It doesn't matter," (y/n) said sadly. "My people were massacred, the cities razed to the ground. There's little left." (y/n)'s voice choked up as she finished. The words hit home more than she wanted them to.

"Are you the only survivor?"

(y/n) winced at the simultaneous jolts of pain caused by the clerics. One of them restitched the gash closed while the other rubbed a soothing ointment onto her back. "No," (y/n) hissed as she endured the pain. "About a fourth of my people fled to safety. Only two knights, myself included, remained alive to keep the intruders at bay. In the end he . . ." She couldn't finish the sentence. The reality of Volga's change in loyalty hurt too much.

"I see." The assertive woman folded her arms across her chest. She fixed her red eyes on the foreign female on the bed, narrowing them sternly. "You're lucky to be alive," she explained to (y/n). "If it weren't for the princess, you would have been pierced by a hundred arrows."

"I-I don't remember," (y/n) said weakly. "What happened?"

"I was alerted by the night watch of a dragon," the strikingly beautiful woman continued. "They weren't sure at first, since all they caught was a sudden glint in the moonlight. Once they knew for sure, they sent for me. By the time the princess and I arrived, it approached the castle. I was about to have my archers fire when the princess noticed its injuries. She withdrew the order just as it crashed in front of the gate and changed into you. I was very surprised to watch the transformation, and I don't surprise easily." The woman smirked down at (y/n) briefly. Her face became like stone once again. "When we opened the gate and saw your wounds, the princess had you rushed inside for treatment. I was against it, but she insisted we help you."

"Ah," (y/n) sighed. "I remember now. I barely had enough strength to shift to your world and change."

"What are you?" the Sheika asked cautiously. "Human or Dragon?"

(y/n) winced again as the cleric working on her back lathered more ointment onto it. "B-both," she answered. "It's a little difficult to explain."

"You are expected to tell us everything. We want answers. Never before have we seen someone with your abilities." The inquisitor lowered her arms, resting them at her sides. "What's your name?"

"(y/n)," the Dragon Knight answered. "And you are?"

"Impa," the woman answered in a clipped way. "Princess Zelda wanted to see you when you woke up. I'll return with her shortly." Impa turned on her heel and made her way back to the door.

"Thanks for helping me," (y/n) said to Impa before she got too far.

Impa turned around as she placed a hand on the doorway. "Don't thank me. Thank the princess." Her red eyes looked over the bedridden woman. Her lips curled at the corners in a small smile. "You must be very strong to withstand such pain. I do hope you heal well."

(y/n) smiled weakly back. "As do I."

True to her word, Impa came back with the princess. The regal woman promptly sat beside (y/n)'s bed and took her hand in hers. At her encouragement, (y/n) retold what had happened to her and her people, withholding Cia and Volga's names from her knowledge. She also shared the story of how they came to be.

Her land's chronicle tells of a group of dragons who were exiled due to their increased interest with the human race. As punishment, they were forced to become human and live among them as such until they pass away. The villagers they stayed with never knew of their true origins. The stories the dragons conjured were valid enough; they were wandering tradesmen and women, finally choosing to settle down here. They married and soon became parents. When their offspring showed signs of abilities only dragons had--manipulation of elements and turning into dragons themselves--things drastically changed.

The Alpha Dragon and his council met with the village chief to determine the fate of the banished and their families. The dragon council wanted them dead. The humans fought to keep them alive. After reminding the Alpha Dragon of how the accused helped their village prosper and grow into a thriving city, they convinced him to change his mind on the matter. He allowed them to stay, on the condition that this new race remained in seclusion. No one was to know of their existence. To protect the land, the Alpha organized a group of warriors and taught them how to develop their elemental powers. They were advised only to transform into dragons if it were absolutely necessary. Many decided to follow in the footsteps of the craftsmen, never transforming, only using the elements to help their land prosper.

(y/n)'s bloodline traced back to a rare dragon of ice. The element wasn't as common as the others, yet just as powerful. She, like a few of her ancestors, became a Dragon Knight.

Zelda's face saddened as she listened to (y/n). She knew what she shared was true. Hearing such a remarkable story, then being told of the land's swift destruction, tugged at her heart. "I'm so sorry for your loss, (y/n)," Zelda conveyed as she squeezed the woman's hand gently. "I know there's not much I can do for you, aside from providing the medical attention you need."

"It's alright, Your Highness," (y/n) assured her, giving her a small smile. "I thank you for it."

"I admire your spirit." The princess returned the smile. "You'll overcome this trial and pick yourself up again. I know you will."

(y/n) knew Zelda's words were meant to be kind, yet they made her heart sink again. It would take a long time for her to move forward and accept Volga's change of loyalty. The body heals quickly, leaving shallow scars. The heart is another matter.

The Dragon Knight accepted the princess's hospitality. Zelda allowed her to stay as long as she wanted to. She even offered to grant (y/n) a position similar to Impa's if she waned it. The offer was very tempting to (y/n). She felt she wouldn't be staying that long, but if she did, she'd take it.

Volga hissed as he gingerly wrapped cotton bandages around his stomach. (y/n)'s sword had left a diagonal slash on his left side. He managed to close the wound himself with a needle and thread, since there wasn't anyone else trained to heal. (y/n) also managed to burn him with her ice-like fire. The man gingerly stood from his cot and walked towards the mirror for a better look. Volga's eyes narrowed as he examined the burn, tracing it's outline with his fingers. It spread from the base of his neck, up the right side and ended as it curved around the back and up to his jawline. It was still quite cold to the touch, though nowhere near as freezing as it was. Volga glanced at the heap of armor at the foot of his bed, now dented and scratched from (y/n)'s sword. She fought steady and strong until . . .

The wound he gave (y/n) right at the end was a mortal one. There was no way she could have survived. He secretly hoped that he missed, that by some miracle (y/n) was still alive. He would never know; Cia forced him to leave her there. He had left (y/n) to die.

Memories of (y/n) surfaced as he stared at the burn in the mirror. They tugged at Volga's heart, leaving him with regrets and a pain that wasn't easy to mask. He and (y/n) met when they were sixteen during the Knights' Challenge. It took them a few years to become what she called "friends". (y/n) was one of the very few people he could tolerate. To this day, Volga still doesn't know how (y/n) handled his stubbornness, overconfidence, and short tempter. She knew how to calm him down, how to make him laugh; her witty sense of humor was one of the things that he liked. And ever since their final test, they always fought side by side while protecting their land. Knowing she was there gave him a rare peace and calm. And now she was gone.

The "last" Dragon Knight saw the shine of tears in is eyes. He glared at his reflection, mentally chastising himself for being weak. With a roar Volga swiped at the mirror, grabbing it by the frame and throwing it to the floor, shattering the glass. He sat on his cot and held his head in his hands, giving in to the terrible pain in his heart. His body shook with silent sobs. Cia gave him the strength he wanted, yet he wasn't strong enough to protect the one he really accepted the deal for.