Blood Moon: A Story Before the Calamity

Chapter 2

     Hyrule Castle was like nothing Link had ever seen before. 

     Its tall, imposing towers reached up into the heavens, as if to tickle the sky itself. The gates slowly opened without a sound and the carriage rolled inside. 

     The stables were so many times more magnificent than the ones scattered over Hyrule. Not a stray straw was out of place. Every saddle and bridle was edged with gold, and every piece of leather was top-notch. The royally bred horses puffed good naturedly as the carriage was unlatched from the horses. Link stopped to stroke them, but he was ushered away.

     If the outside of Hyrule Castle was stern and strict, the inside was even more so. The red carpet muffled every footstep, and there were always a painting of one of the Kings of Hyrule from a long heritage staring over the heads of anyone who walked past. It was deadly quiet to Link, who was used to the hustle and bustle of the knight's barracks, but the servants who were showing him around acted like it was the most normal place ever.

    What was it like to be brought up in such an imposing place? Hyrule Castle forced upon every child strict obedience and flawlessness, with the halls immaculate and spotless, the rooms perfectly neat and tidy, the furniture made of the best, and in turn, hardest wood. The halls themselves looked down at every passerby with grandness and medieval fanciness, as if incrementing the fact that you were inferior. This was no place for a young child to have a happy childhood. 

    The Meeting Room had to be the grimmest and least welcoming place in Hyrule. The chairs were tall and intricately designed with no sign of softness anywhere, and Link's spine hurt just looking at straight edges of the seats. Every paper, every pencil and eraser, was put neatly away.

     Link wasn't allowed inside the Princess's and the King's rooms yet. The rest of level 3 was much more friendly than the majority of the Castle.  The colours were softer, less bold, and there were much less gold décor to make people uncomfortably aware of their unroyal blood. It actually felt more like a home.

     Link's new room was situated on said floor. He silently breathed out a sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to wake up to the harsh glare of levels 1 and 2, but would enjoy the more comforting embrace of level 3.

     As he opened the door to his room, and hence, his future, and had a chance to take it in, he felt suddenly small, insignificant, of common folk in the face of luxury beyond imagining. This was the place he was supposed to feel comfortable in? It was one step away from royalty!

     The curtains were made of the best silk, rippling lightly in the slight breeze and catching the light like waves. The bed was huge, taking up a third of the room, thankfully without too many pillows and blankets. He was still a soldier, after all. There was an armour stand at the side of the room, inlaid with metal supplements and designs etched in with gold. The desk was made of mahogany and sat serenely against the wall, with a lamp flickering on it. Light flooded in through the window, thrown open. There didn't seem to be a single element in the room out of order. 

     Link was suddenly alone. The two servants that had been showing him around had vanished, to their individual duties, leaving him to settle in on his own, which was unsettling, with the silence pressing in all around him.

     Link slowly walked over to the bed and carefully sat down, awkward to the extreme. Painfully aware of his own common blood in a place that should be untouched by anyone other than either royalty or servants, he put the Master Sword next to the armour stand, tilting it the way his father used to with his own sword for it to catch the light. He looked at it for a moment, then turned away to lean on the window sill and look out at the open land spreading out before him, feeling hollowed out in his chest.

     Just one room over, Princess Zelda was pacing, frustrated and furious. Why did she need a bodyguard? Why did she have to have someone breathing down her neck wherever she went? She wanted some privacy! She wanted some freedom! Wasn't the day-in and day-out praying enough of a torture? Why did someone have to be there all the time to watch her fail over and over again? 

     Most of all. Why did it have to be him? Zelda snorted, filled with contempt. So now she was a beautiful damsel in distress, being rescued by a knight in shining armour? The dashing hero saves the day? What kind of a woman did people think she was?

     If she was honest with herself, and she wasn't ready to be yet, she only hated Link because she hated herself, and Link only fortified the feelings. Zelda looked down at her powerless hands, the incompetence of herself crushing her. One wall away, a literal star was shining, overshadowing her, making her look even more of a failure. If he was really fated to be her counterpart, her aid in war, then why was there such a huge gap of ability between them?

     Zelda thought back to the day when he saved her from the Guardian, armed with only a pot lid. He had stepped in with practically nothing when everyone else fled. Such courage... something Zelda will never possess.

     The thing was though, Zelda wasn't wise, despite Triforce of Wisdom, which she apparently had. She tended to get hot-tempered in court, thought rashly, and lashed out when she was angry or tired. In history, she learned about the long line of Zelda's, how they grew to be good queens that kept Hyrule alive, despite the odds. Twilight Zelda, surrendering for the greater good despite her pride, giving up everything for the slim chance of survival of her kingdom, dealing with loneliness and guilt everyday, and silently supporting Twilight Link and Midna with her life. She learned about Time Zelda, who trusted Time Link with everything and guided him, in disguise, through his journey as an adult despite the danger that puts her in. She watched her kingdom fall to pieces but still retained enough strength to win. 

     Who was she, the Zelda still pacing in her room? Nothing but a failure. Nothing but someone whose efforts had only worsened her state. Nothing compared to the one who had the Master Sword by fate alone, the one who had never suffered a day in his life, the one who held glory in his hand at birth and wore talent like armour, every hardship bouncing off him. He would never understand the sufferings Zelda went through, what it was like to lose someone so dear to her she never managed to get past the trauma after 10 years. There was no reason to try, there was no chance they would ever get along. She would put up with Link, if only it was her duty to do so.

     Zelda angrily shut off her thoughts, opened the window and looked out. Hyrule was beautiful, even when disaster was at hand. Beautiful, and hers to save. Hers to fail, more like. Taking a deep breath of the wild, clean air, she turned away back to her oppressive, stuffy room and went to prepare herself for praying tomorrow.