Chapter Text
“Goddess Hylia, please, listen and hear me,” Zelda said, kneeling at the base of the stone statue. No, that wasn’t right. How did her mother do this? “Oh Goddess Hylia, please hear your people.” She bit her lip, frowning impatiently. Was that not right either? There was no response, no surge of holy power. She glanced back at Impa, hoping for some kind of hint. Impa quietly motioned her on, nodding quietly.
Zelda turned back to the statue, clasping her hands together. “My people are dying,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Your people are dying. Ganon has lead thousands of his wolves against us. For months, we’ve been suffering. Our armies are shattered. Our people are dying.
“Please, lead me to the hero. Lead me to find the one who is wielding the triforce of courage. He is our last hope. Hylia, send him to end our suffering.” She turned her eyes up to the carved statue’s face, holding her breath.
There was no heavenly chorus, or ethereal glows of light. The statue of the goddess stared back with blank, smiling stone eyes.
“Please!” Zelda pushed to her feet, her jaw clenched. “Hylia, please hear me, I’ve prayed to you every day for months! They’re dying! Give me an answer, give me a sign! Give me strength, please!” Her shoulder slumped, and she wrapped her arms around herself, taking a shaky deep breath in.
She didn’t cry; she was all together too tired for anymore heartbreak. She lifted her head, searching the cut stone face for any sign of having heard her.
She turned back, sitting at the edge of the dais, drawing her knees close to her chest. “I can’t do it. I just can’t get her to hear me. How are we going to fight off Ganon’s wolves when I can’t so much as call on the goddess for guidance?” she asked.
“You must rest, Princess,” Impa said, folding her hands patiently. She sat at her side, bending over to pick up a tiny silent princess blossom, turning it over in her wrinkled hands. “You will find the strength you need, all in time. You need to believe you have the same power as your mother did.”
Zelda gently took the flower, twisting the stem between her fingers, tracing the fragile petals. “We’re in a failing war. Every day, more and more innocent people die. Can I really afford patience now?” she asked softly.
Impa sighed softly, glancing back to the statue. “I believe we can. The leaders of the Zora and the Goron are coming to offer their aid. And we have other hopes to turn to as well.”
Zelda straightened, a small smile escaping onto her face. “Wolf hunters? Does that mean—”
“Yes, Urbosa is coming back,” Impa said, chuckling at the flash of light in Zelda’s eyes. “I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you too. A Rito warrior by the name of Revali will be coming as well. They’ll buy us all the time we need for you to unlock your connection to the goddess.”
The smile on Zelda’s face began to fade, and she turned away hesitantly. “I’m just. . .so tired. What if I can’t? What if I just can’t connect to her? What if there’s nothing I can do?”
Impa grimaced, pushing to her feet with a groan. She rested her hand on her back, taking a deep breath. “Oh, everything aches. Listen, Princess Zelda, I promise you will find your strength in time. But not today. Come now, let’s return to Castle Town.”
Zelda stood, sparing another glance back at the statue of the goddess. Her chest ached, and she took a hesitant step forward. “Maybe I should try praying again. Just once more.”
“You’re running yourself ragged,” Impa said, shaking her head in disappointment. “You can’t protect the survivors if you’re too exhausted to stand.” She gently guided Zelda away from the dais. “Come now. It’s late."
Zelda sighed, finally giving in. “All right. Can we visit the Master Sword before we return? It at least brings me comfort to know that it is there.”
They walked together in silence down the wooded path of the castle forest, both trying to ignore the air of unease that weighed heavy on all of Hyrule. There was no need to fear any attacks here. Ganon’s armies of werewolves had driven bokoblins and other monsters to near extinction. It would have been a blessing, really, if the wolves hadn’t been wiping out every single animal that walked the forests, monster or otherwise.
They followed the rough stone path from the small grove where the shrine was built. The sky through the trees was smokey, and dim with wispy clouds. The wind hissed through the trees, birds calling anxiously to each other for comfort.
CRRACKK!
Zelda jumped back. Her eyes darted around the clearing, and she stepped closer to Impa cautiously. “Did you—what was that?” she asked cautiously.
“I don’t know,” Impa said quietly, narrowing her eyes. “Ganon’s never sent anyone this far. Still, we should go back to town immediately. It’s too dangerous to be out here if there could be werewolves.”
“Wait.” The blood drained from Zelda’s face. She wavered on her feet, shaking. “The Master Sword.” The words were dry, cracked. “What if he’s trying to take the Master Sword?”
Impa shook her head. “Zelda, no, you know he can’t—”
It didn’t matter. Fear was stronger than reason. Zelda took off running. She leapt from the path, hurdling through the trees, hunting down the sound.
Ahead of her, through the foliage, she heard running, branches and stones upturned by a chase. She skidded to a stop, listening anxiously, trying to figure out where the stranger had gone.
As she stood there, the crooked trees leaning in around her became clearer, more familiar. She was standing less than a hundred yards from the dais where the Master Sword stood, untouched.
If this was one of Ganon’s wolves, that’s where they would be heading. Heart pounding, she turned sharply. She surged through the forest. It didn’t matter if she had holy power or not. Nothing could ever happen to the Master Sword. It was their last hope. It was their only hope.
Smacking a branch away, she shoved through the the tangled trees. She panted for breath, her cheeks flushing red. She clenched her fists, locking her jaw, eyes narrowed. Anxiety surged through every inch of her, fear of what would happen if the sword was lost. She’d failed her people enough already.
And then she saw him.
He was a tall, lanky boy, awkward and skinny. His face was stained with mud, and leaves clung to his scruffy golden hair. He wore a long, rough tunic, and a strange green hat the hung low on his head.
He stared at the Master Sword, with an absent sort of expression, almost as if trying to remember some old memory, just out of reach. He stepped closer, raising one hand cautiously. His fingers slid around the hilt of the blade, fitting perfectly into the leather grip.
The blade almost seemed to vibrate at his touch. The flowering wild vines that had grown up around it slowly blossomed, and a soft, golden glow spiraled across the steel. The boy let go suddenly, stepping back in surprise. He moved away slowly, bumping right into Zelda.
Before he’d even turned around, she grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him close. She looked him over carefully, trying to find any feature she could find familiar, but it was becoming incredibly clear he wasn’t from Castle Town.
“Who are you?” She asked softly, leaning closing, staring deep into his startled blue eyes.
“Princess Zelda! Princess Zelda!” Impa came puffing around the corner, heaving for air, rubbing her leg with a grimace. Her eyes immediately shifted to the boy, and she stopped, watching him cautiously. “Your highness, who is this?”
The boy glanced at the trees, as if considering making a break for it, but after a moment’s consideration, he answered them quietly. “Link.”
Zelda nodded, her brain spinning and thundering in her head. “Link. I have so, so many questions. Where are you from?” she asked.
He glanced to the forest again, as tense and wound up as a cornered fox. He didn’t answer the question, silently looking from Zelda to Impa and back again.
Zelda softened her grip, managing a disbelieving smile. “We’re not going to attack you. I promise. Please, Link, come with me and Impa back to Castle Town. I need to speak with you.”
The boy, Link, hesitated for a long time, staring her down warily, as if unsure she wasn’t going to grow fangs and chase him down. Finally, he took a deep breath, offering a quick, anxious nod.
“Princess Zelda,” Impa said, turning anxiously to Zelda, giving Link a quick distrusting glance. “Who is this boy? Are you certain we should take him back to the town?”
Zelda bit back an awestricken smile. “Impa,” she said, trying to stay calm. “He’s the hero, Impa. He can wield the Master Sword.”