They’re bringing the potion.”
“I’ll not waste these moments hoping for a miracle in silence. My daughter, Link sought me out just last night. I learned of the Gerudo son-of-a-pig’s resurrection,” he reveals with contempt. “Link has saved our kingdom from his evil schemes before. I know we share a conviction he will do so once again. He rides to do exactly that as we speak,” he imparts, taking several raspy breaths before continuing. “My beloved princess, your people need you now more than ever. I beg you to leave the heroics to the hero of time. You shall be the queen. Your rule and your law will bind this land with justice and compassion. Do not forsake your birthright. Become the leader I could not be. You are everything Hyrule has needed all these years. Please, Zelda,” he concludes, his muscles relaxing as he was determined to express the sentiment before he is no longer able.
“I will, father,” she conveys with a suddenly solemn expression. All the time she’s spent running from her name has come to this climax. Her destiny has always been to rule. It is only now she realizes she cannot run any longer. “I promise you. I will.”
“I-I love you, with all my heart,” he sighs, slowly becoming weaker and weaker. Renado finishes his prayer, silently bowing before ushering everyone out of the room. A time of serenity passes, and though no words are spoken between father and daughter, they each feel as if they’ve gained a better understanding of one another. The king cannot blame her for feeling reluctant of her obligations. Nothing can prepare a man or woman for such responsibility. It is a true heart, and a just compass that leads a ruler down the path of a prosperous kingdom. The princess begins to understand just how badly the decisions he was forced to make weighed down upon him all these years. So few choices eventually benefit all who are involved. Even fewer paths lead to happy endings when greed, power, lust, loyalty, and the greater good are all thrown into the mixture. An hour passes and Zelda feels the life leave her father. His tired grip lets go for the last time, and it is the final push toward her uncontrollable tears.
The servants line each side of the hallway when Zelda finally emerges from the room, and makes the long journey toward her own. Every head hangs with the same apologetic visage, blurry through her watery eyes. The massive staircase leading down to the throne room appears on her left, while the hall stretching toward her chamber lies on the right. Her first choice as queen, and she finds herself unable to shake the need to be selfish. Shut herself away in her bedroom until she feels as though she has recovered. No respectable person would have the audacity to resent her for taking this course. Even so, the initial action of Queen Zelda must echo through the years to come, and in her father’s memory, she will address the needs of her people before all else. An intuitive transformation begins, though Zelda doesn’t spend even a second considering the deeper meaning of her actions. She begins to shed her unnecessary accessories a piece at a time as she descends the stairs with an emotionless expression. Her long, velvet gloves are pulled off, left in her wake like worthless rags. Her absurdly expensive jewelry, as well as her priceless crown tumble down the steps, bouncing atop the long, decorative rug stretching all the way to the base of the staircase. Now wearing nothing but a dress of pink and white, Zelda makes her way out of the castle, ignoring the few guards who respectfully bow and clear her path. Castle town is at the height of its activity in the early evening, though the virtual lack of any attention-grabbing interaction would make the claim difficult to suggest. Passing through the northern district, Zelda hears an angry woman shouting just before a small group of young children round the corner in a hurry.
“Get back here you damn thieves!” The woman shouts, clearly incapable of catching any of the fugitives, though her slender figure seems it should be.
“You said she was asleep!” One of the children shouts over his shoulder.
“She was!” Another replies as they make their escape. Quickly realizing several of the children are carrying loafs of bread, Zelda decides to intervene. A subtle flick of her wrist summons a small, magic barrier in front of each of the children as they attempt to scatter in different directions. Every child bounces off the force field and lands flat on their back in near perfect unison. The woman formerly chasing the thieves stops in her tracks, instantly recognizing the woman with such a potent ability. Collectively regaining their footing, the children decide to resume their retreat.
“Stop right there,” Zelda demands, though it is in a tone too friendly to invoke fear. A translucent barrier appears, surrounding everyone involved in the incident and confining them within the small area. “Everyone over here,” she continues, noting some of the children are more cooperative than others. “Move it!” She adds with a little more attitude. Reluctantly grouping together in the center of the street, everyone gawks in amazement as the barrier around them dissipates.
“You honor us with your presence, princess,” the woman greets with a respectful bow.
“No need for any of that,” Zelda dismisses with a slight smile. “Let’s get down to business. It looks like we have ourselves a clutch of bandits in town.” Though most of the children instantly look ashamed, a couple grow wide grins, considering the accusation a complement. “Stealing is wrong. Do you understand?” She asks, pointing into the crowd of ashamed faces. A murmur of agreement sounds from the group, though it is far from convincing. “Listen,” she starts, kneeling down to their level. “I know you’re hungry, but this doesn’t mean you can take from others. These are tough times, and what that means is you’ve got to earn these things.” The assembly of faces shift from sad to confused as the punishment has yet to take form. Standing back up, Zelda shifts her gaze back to the woman. She looks as though she were pretty once, her blue hair having long since faded with white strands here and there. Her calloused hands are visible even at distance, and her dirty apron combined with the stolen bread hints at the probability of her profession. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Me?” The woman asks, her drowsy expression snapping to attention. “Y-yes?”
“I’m sure you could use some extra hands at the bakery,” she starts, quickly feeling vindicated when the woman’s expression changes to show her understanding. A quick nod spurs Zelda to continue. “Please choose whatever number of assistants you’d like to work for you. The castle will forward you their pay, and with that, they can buy food.” A few of the children grow excited with the prospect, but the rest remain apathetic.
“That sounds wonderful,” the woman gasps, eager to accept the offer.
“As for the rest of you, I’ll make you a deal. I want you to find adults who need help in town. You can help the carpenters carry wood, do someone’s dishes, or even bring the guards water. Whatever you like. I’ll be waiting right here every day at sundown to hear about what you’ve done that day. Every day you do well, you’ll get ten rupees. How does that sound?” The jaws of several children immediately drop open at the prospect. Ten rupees for simply finding a chore that needs done. They could each eat for a day and still have money to spare. Watching the multitude of faces light up is all the confirmation Zelda needs, and with that she calls an end to the meeting. “Alright. Go on now.” The children quickly scatter throughout the town, discussing the deal and staking their claim on particular chores. The sun has begun to set beyond the tall walls of Castle Town, and a steady breeze begins to cool the air for the first time in a long time.
“I cannot thank you enough,” the baker insists, unable to articulate her appreciation.
“It’s nothing, really,” Zelda conveys with a sad smile. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Marcy.”
“Marcy,” she repeats, certain she knows the woman from somewhere. “How has business been as of late?” She asks, beginning to walk alongside the woman.
“Honestly, not so good. It’s been all I could do to keep an eye on the children,” she admits with a shrug.
“I s
ee,” Zelda nods with understanding. “Could you summon your friends and neighbors to the square? I’d like to address everyone in town if I could.”
“Of course,” she promptly agrees. “I know virtually everyone on South Road. I’ll spread the word. Thanks again!”
“I thank you,” she conveys with a slight bow. Watching Marcy quickly move toward the square, Queen Zelda drifts past a house into a back alley. The empty streets feel foreign to her, the town always bursting with activity throughout her memories. Continuing to walk through town, she falls deep into thought. Her path has been lain out before her. The sneaking past guards, the adventures, and the faint bits of romance all themes of the past. Ganondorf will attempt to seize power once again, but as much as she hates to admit it, he is Link’s problem now. Her hero has been just as burdened as she, and suffered the same twists of fate and inconvenient obligations his whole life. Now he truly travels alone. Fights and struggles alone. Wins and loses alone.
Closing her eyes, Zelda sees the figure standing alone in the void once again. His masculine features become pronounced for the first time, his hand still reaching out to her.