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The training ground bustles with activity as soldiers march about, the captain bellowing his orders as he watches. Off to the side, Cloud sits, cross-legged and watching the soldiers train. He just turned thirteen years old today, and his father insisted he spends time doing whatever rather than training (and it’s not like he can’t beat even some of the strongest knights of the kingdom.)
The young teenager stands up before he picks up his sword, strapping it to his back. He then wanders towards his father. The man looks over, a smile etching onto his somewhat bearded face. “Hey there, kiddo.” He pats his son’s shoulder lightly. “Training’s almost over for the day. We’ll go home soon; why don’t you see if there are any snacks at the stable?” He hands him a few rupees, and Cloud takes them before nodding a little.
“Okay.” Shoving the rupees into his pocket, Cloud turns and wanders towards the path, glancing around before looking up the hill, in the opposing direction of the stable. He looks back at his father and the soldiers before clambering up the hill.
Eerie fog begins to settle in as Cloud glances around, becoming alert as a murder of crows flies off, wings hitting the air aggressively. The teen stares after them before looking forward, seeing a crumbling archway leading into the infamous Lost Woods. His father has warned him countless times to avoid these woods, but something is pulling him towards them.
A torch.
The grass crunching beneath his feet, Cloud wanders forward and looks at the fire, looking after the embers that fly into the air, directing him towards another. He follows this line of torches, breaking into a jog, noticing something odd about the way the embers fly; while the embers from one fly in one direction, the embers from another fly in a different direction (is that a key to finding the way through this fog?). Small birds fly away, and a fox yelps before scurrying into the fog. Cloud then stops between two torches, not seeing any more, save for a portable one leaning against one of them. Their embers fly off in a specific direction, and Cloud looks after the embers before grabbing the portable torch, lighting it and walking in the direction, staring at the embers.
The direction changes abruptly.
He turns and follows the direction they’re going in, ignoring the trees with grinning faces that he passes by.
Eventually, the fog begins to clear up, and Cloud snuffs out the torch as the light of the setting sun pours through the canopy of trees. Water sloshes a little beneath his feet, and small wooden creatures peek out at him from behind branches and rocks and grass. A grand tree that seemingly has a face sits in the middle.
The Korok Forest.
The thirteen-year-old wanders forward, feeling the eyes of the Koroks follow him with curiosity as he eyes a sword that sits before the tree. It glimmers slightly as the light hits its blue-ish silver blade, which protrudes from a purple hilt with intricate gold designs.
He steps in front of it, staring at it before grasping the sword.
~~~
The captain paces about with furrowed brows as his son doesn’t appear; he’s ordered his men to search the area, but no one has found any trace of Cloud. According to the stable manager, he never even showed up; he’s beginning to worry. Cloud’s a tough boy, but who knows what could have happened?
A few soldiers glumly wander up. “No sign of him, sir..”
The captain bites his lip. “Great… Where is that boy?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hylia, please don’t tell me he went to the Lost Woods of all places…”
“Um, sir?”
The captain arches his eyebrow before a soldier, eyes widened, gestures past him. The captain turns and his jaw drops as he sees Cloud, holding the legendary blade called the Master Sword in his hands, holding it close to him.
“Cloud…” That’s all the captain can manage to say. Cloud simply stares at his father and the soldiers who gather, all muttering in shock.
“I found this sword in the woods. I know you told me not to go there, but it wasn’t so bad,” Cloud says. It’s as if he doesn’t even know he’s holding the blade of evil’s bane in his hands.
“Son… Do you know what you’re holding?”
“The Master Sword.”
He does know.
A stiffening silence ensues as father and son stare at one another, the former with shock and the latter with a waning innocence.