Zelink BotW Sequel/ Legend of Zelda and the Last knight- Swords and Roses

Why we failed pt 10- A Song of Storms

Authors Note- Sorry for the late posting, the holidays got the best of me and honestly, Fanfic dot net has been all kinds of messed up just until as recently a week ago. Prior to that, us creators couldn't see any interaction from you, the readers. The site was broken. That has been somewhat discouraging for us. We live and breathe by your interactions. Unlike youtubers who get paid for content, we don't. Your attention is what fuels our work. 

Chapter

Why we failed One-Hundred Years ago

Pt.10

A Song of Storms

The trench, acting as an open hallway surrounded by wooden walls to the grand arena, was a maelstrom of noise and activity. The dank air was heavy with the cold sweat of nervous contenders and the smoky tendrils from the fires of those who had camped since the eve before. Here, Link and his young squire, Jun, only eleven winters old, stood shoulder to shoulder in the boot-slippery mud, surrounded by other aspirants. They were funneled through a narrow corridor that separated them from the roaring crowds. The distant cheers from the stands beyond the walls, especially the royal box filled with foreign dignitaries and highborn guests, were a heady mix of mirth and anticipation.

Upon entry into the challenger's pit which was a seething cauldron of warriors, Link and Jun were met with a scene of marshalling fervor. Armored men, their steel glinting in the dappled sunlight, devoured slices of roasted wild boar at crude benches, while others, brimming with eagerness, galloped on horseback, honing their skills against wooden quintains that rang out with each successful lance strike. Others loosed arrows at straw targets, their bowstrings singing a deadly song as their shafts whispered in the air, and swordsmen clashed against pells in a rhythmic dance. The atmosphere was electric with nervous anticipation; everyone sensed that this would be no ordinary tourney and the inaugural tilts were about to commence. The nature of their tests were still veiled in mystery.

As Link and Jun approached, seasoned wandering knights and men at arms seeking to showcase their valor in the hopes that this lord or that may take them into their service cast wary glances at the youthful duo. Even dressed-up mercenaries no better than common cutthroats from distant lands judged the pair as they marched by. But neither Link's resolve nor Jun's innocent courage wavered. Link knew he had the skills, honed over a lifetime of training, and Jun – well, Jun was his unwavering self.

Link was acutely aware that this event was more than just a tournament; it was a marketplace of men, a grand stage where the future of many would be decided. Nobles of every rank and stature were perched like peacocks in the stands, their keen eyes searching for warriors whose prowess on the field could be an asset in their courts. Sure, the main event was to find the solo champion who would be given the distinct honor and opportunity to serve the crown, but for most they had their sights set on other prizes. They wouldn't even have to be victorious in the tournament to achieve their goals. Even if only they won a few matches and showed their prowess they would catch the eye of a liege to be and that would be enough to garner their favor.

Even former cutthroats, often shunned by law, sought the tournament as a means to cleanse their reputations and seek a chance to enter the service of even a petty lord if it came to it. Anything would be better than their way of life. They offered hopefuls a full belly and a guaranteed home under a roof, walls and a warm hearth to rest their head at night. Which sure sounded a lot better than wandering the wilderness, and venturing forsaken roads, having to sleep with an eye open and knife in hand to guard against the perils that the vast unknown brought.