Reincarnated

Chapter 2: Excerpt from Zelda's Diary

Whatever. That was a while ago now. The conversation seems so distant now. It's strange how such intense emotions get brought down to "whatever" over time. 

Tonight, I have to sneak out to get my P from that old lady in West Castle Town. When I first snuck out to go see her, she told me more about the Sheikah she'd help become a woman. I didn't really believe her, about the Sheikah or the potion, but I thought it was worth a shot. 

"I'll make this one even stronger for you." She told me as she dumped some foreign ingredients into the soupy mixture that was prepared for me. "Only fitting that the new Princess should have the best medicine." 

The word lingered in the air. "Princess" I juggled it around in my head for many days after that. I thought of how easily she'd said it, only needing me to tell her "I wish it were true," and she'd respond "Then it shall be so." 

I thought about how she'd called it "medicine." Not a mystic remedy whose benefits someone would beg you to believe in on the street as they asked for 30 Rupees, but a medicine. She talked about it as a doctor would; as if it was an important matter that can't be ignored. 

She'd given me a large pot of the stuff to take with me. It felt funny to crouch over it and hide it under my cloak, pretending to be some elder with a hunch in my back. As I got closer to the castle, however, each step felt heavy, and my lungs struggled for air under the pressure of someone seeing me. I remember the dread that stole my breath at any sound while I hoisted myself back into my room.

I seem to breathe easier during my trips now. I hope to be completely calm tonight. Maybe that fear of being seen will someday turn to "whatever" just as every other dreadful memory.

Invitation to the Royal Ball

Dear and Valued Citizens of Hyrule,

There are grave times on the horizon. It is far too easy, in our preparation for the coming battles, for us to lose sight of our culture and traditions. We must treasure that which makes us who we are, lest we should have nothing once we are delivered from the battles ahead.

That is why, at this pivotal moment, the Royal Family invites each and every one of you to a night of escape and indulgence inside the castle. Our doors are open to all those who should seek the comfort of this time-honored tradition. 

We humbly invite all people, from any village or town, Hylian, Gerudo, Zora, Goron, or Rito to join us in this celebration of our prosperity.

Kindly,

King Rhoam Bosphoramus

Excerpt from Zelda's Journal

When I had gotten to the old woman's house, I paid her for the potion, then she wanted to know about this year's Royal Ball. I told her that we weren't having it this year, as I had assumed my Father's silence on the matter meant it'd be forgone.

"Well then one of us must be deceived," she said, picking a note from the stack on her table. "because I've got an invitation right here, missy." She handed me the folded sheet to read.

The news was true, I saw his stamp and everything. As I read each passing word, my insides grew hotter until it felt like I was boiling.  "He wishes me gone," I thought as I read out "King Rhoam Bosphoramus" on the bottom of the cursed letter.  "He's taken every privilege I should have, every responsibility to my kingdom, and tried to hide me away, hoping I wouldn't know he's continuing life as normal."

"He never said anything." was all I could come up with.

"Well we can't have you locked away for the ball, can we? The Princess must show her pretty face at a royal ball, it wouldn't be royal without it." Her kindness fell on deaf ears. I didn't feel pretty, hunched over a deceptive letter with my brow scrunched in a furious mess.

"I couldn't, it'd cause too much of a stir if people were to find out the truth there of all places."

"No matter, we'll find you something fitting for someone like you that'll also keep you hidden. Just as long as you are there, I should be satisfied."

"Really, there's no need for the fuss." Maybe he was right to keep me away. There would be no gown to suit a Royal Ball, and there was no time to have one made. I remained in a chair by her table.

"Pish posh." She waved my angst away and turned to a closet. "These are my daughter's dresses. 'They're too juvenile for me' she told me after she was married, but I don't see anything wrong with them. This one should suit you quite nicely." It was a long, green gown, plucked from its long slumber and thrust onto me. "And you can wear your hood, just like you have there and no one will know."

I protested her offer of course. "I'm the last person to deserve your charity." But she insisted, and so I took the gown in my hands and promised to repay her for her kindness. She once again dismissed the notion and pushed me out of her home.

She is too kind to me. I feel as if she must be influenced by Mother's kind spirit somehow. She seems nearer when the old woman speaks. Perhaps Mother's voice hides underneath hers. I don't even know her name, but she's so important to me.

Once I got back to my room safely, I tried on the gown despite my exhaustion. It's the first new garment I've worn in many months, and as I looked in my mirror, I was struck by how it fits. It seems tailor-made for this body the old woman has given me, not like the clothes of my earlier years, and not like the ill-fitting wardrobe I've snuck from my Mother's closet. 

I feel transformed when I look at it, the waist of the dress sitting on mine, the skirt laying comfortably below my ankles, and the tail flowing behind me. It is beautiful, and I spend many minutes looking at it. I've only town myself from the mirror to write now. I don't know if I will ever take it off. 

I wish to sleep with it and to greet the town with it, even bathe with it. I never want to see myself in anything but this gown made for the old woman's daughter. I wonder what kind of woman her daughter must have been to fit this dress. I wonder who she was married to. I wonder if she was like me.