(Zelink) The Legend of Zelda and the Last knight- Swords and Roses

Why we failed one-hundred years ago pt. 29

Chapter

Why we failed pt. 29

Ashes and Ascension

I stood rigidly in the line of weary cadets, the weight of my sodden tunic pressing cold against my chest, but it was nothing compared to the heaviness inside my heart. The moon above was a mocking witness, bright and merry, oblivious to my shame. Beside me stood Regosso, his face etched in exhaustion, pale beneath his proud countenance. He gave a silent nod when our eyes met, a begrudging gratitude laced with disappointment. Neither of us had won today, though we survived. We'd come in last, a bitter truth twisting at the back of my throat.

I drew a slow breath, mind drifting helplessly back to the moment Revali—the ArchMaster of the Rito, no less—had carried me in his talons like some prize catch, dropping me unceremoniously to the earth. My pride had been bruised far more deeply than my battered body. The stunned look on Mipha's gentle face haunted me even now, her eyes wide with hurt surprise. It paled only in comparison to the fleeting yet unforgettable disappointment in Zelda's gaze.

The Princess. Goddess help me, what had I done?

She stood now upon the dais, shoulders drawn back, chin lifted high with the poise befitting her birth. Yet the practiced calm on her delicate features betrayed nothing of the tempest surely raging within. Her silence toward me had been louder than any rebuke she could've uttered. She refused even to meet my eyes, her icy indifference biting harder than any blade.

How foolish had I been to hide behind that damned helm?

But I knew why I had done it. How could a failed farmer's son dare to aspire to want any sort of affection of princess? In dreams, perhaps. Dreams and fool's tales. Madness. My reality, harsh as stone, had whispered only truth into my ears: my blood would never match hers, no matter how bravely I fought nor how brightly my valor might shine.

I had deceived them—deceived her—out of cowardice, out of fear that the truth would strip away even the smallest hope I dared harbor. Worse still, I'd wounded Mipha in the crossfire, her kindness and care caught unfairly between my heart's foolishness and the princess's expectant gaze. I owed each an apology. But how and when? Not that I'll be near either of them for the remainder of this folly.

I watched helplessly now as Zelda's father, His Majesty, stepped forward, voice ringing clear and authoritative. "You all have heard the tales and now you have seen with your own eyes, the strength of the KNIGHTs of old are not lost to legend. These young men have proven themselves worthy!" he declared to the roaring crowd, voice proud and resonant. "They have conquered the Trials of Flame, earning their place among the esteemed Royal Guard. By my daughters Royal blessing they will serve my house and carry the Royal Standard proudly as they always have done for thousands of years."

Applause erupted around us, loud enough to drown out even my shameful thoughts. But my eyes remained fixed upon her, searching desperately for any sign of mercy in her graceful profile. Instead, Zelda turned slightly, whispering something coolly into her father's ear. His approving nod pierced me deeper than any dagger.

"Indeed, daughter," he boomed, "Let us not delay their rewards! Let the ceremony begin."

It was then that Arasmus Draene appeared at her side, smoothly looping an arm around hers, a charming smile painted upon his noble features. Zelda didn't pull away, instead allowing herself to be guided forward with royal grace. Her acceptance of his touch hit me like a gut punch, a chore just to breathe for those short moments.