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    Summary

    Hyrule has fallen into memory and legend beneath the waves. Those who were warned by the prophecies of Zelda Rainbringer fled to the mountains in that age of storms, and built new lives.

    Zelda Iseult DeLeon is a direct descendant of that long-ago refugee Princess, heir to the powers in the bloodline of Hylia, for whatever that's worth to an adjunct professor at one of the better academies on Triardu. Tradition demands little enough in her era -- some pageants and parades on the old holy days, a certain responsibility to maintain the Chronicles for the next generation, a knack for predicting mundane events and a sixth sense about people.

    Then the dreams started.

    They were easy enough to explain away... at first. Loneliness, longing, the fantasy of The Perfect Lover. Idle romantic fancies. Season by season the dreams escalate in frequency and visceral intensity, until she begins to doubt they are dreams at all. But what else could they be? She confesses troubled sleep to her dearest friend, and the vaguest sketch of the red-haired shadow haunting her restless nights, but no more... until the pressure is too great to bear.

    Written for Zelgan Week 2025 : Day 1 alternate prompt : Sun and Moon

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    Language:
    English
    Words:
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