the legend of zelda Age of Calamity

chapter 14 A Duty Beyond Grief

The first rays of light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Link's room. He lay still for a while, the weight of sleep still lingering in his muscles, but his mind was already awake. The quiet ache from the previous night had faded into a dull reminder—another part of him he carried but did not speak of.

The duty he held, though, never wavered. It was a constant, like the steady beat of a heart, driving him forward. Princess Zelda was his charge, and as long as he was able, he would protect her. With quiet determination, Link pushed himself out of bed and donned his Champion's Tunic, keeping his hood down as he always did. He strapped the Master Sword to his back, feeling the weight of it—heavy, yet reassuring. It was his bond to Hyrule, his bond to everything he fought for. Stepping out of his room, Link made his way down the corridors, past the sleeping castle, toward the princess's chambers. His steps were steady, purposeful. His hand instinctively brushed the hilt of his sword as he approached her door, but he did not knock. Instead, he waited—always waiting, always standing guard. He had done this countless times before: standing at her door, watching over her while she slept, though he never spoke of it. His presence was all that was needed. Zelda had never asked for this constant vigilance, but she had come to rely on it. Inside her room, Zelda began to stir. She awoke slowly, her gaze drifting to the ceiling as she stretched and yawned. The castle was peaceful, but the day ahead would not be. She knew that Link would be outside her door, waiting for her. It was something that had become as certain as the rising sun. Though he never spoke much, she could feel his presence—unwavering, steadfast. Zelda stood, moving toward the door. She knew where they would be headed today. The Gerudo Desert awaited, its harsh winds and shifting sands a challenge for anyone who dared cross its expanse. "Link," she said quietly as she opened the door. He was standing there, hood still down, his eyes unreadable but his posture resolute. "Princess," he greeted with a nod, though he never spoke. His eyes followed her every movement, ever-watchful, ever protective. She gave a small nod, a silent acknowledgment of his presence. "We're headed to Gerudo Desert," she stated, her tone carrying the weight of their mission. "It won't be easy, but we need to move quickly. There's no time to waste." Link stepped aside, allowing her to pass, and then fell in line behind her as they headed out. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, ever ready. The desert awaited them—its challenges, its dangers, and whatever secrets it held. As they made their way toward the castle gates, Zelda felt the familiar tension in the air. It wasn't just the weight of their journey that pressed down on her—it was the burden she carried as the last hope of Hyrule. But she wasn't alone in this fight. She had Link. And that, more than anything else, brought her a small measure of peace.