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

Why we failed pt. 31 From Starlight to Cinders

Chapter

Why we failed One-Hundred Years ago pt. 31

From Starlight to Cinders

The scent of roasted pheasant and honeyed figs still lingered as the feast began in earnest beneath the open pavilion. Laughter rolled from table to table like wine being poured. Torches flickered along silk-draped posts, casting gold and amethyst light over the assembled nobility. Hyrule's finest were gathered—lords of river and ridge, warriors of stone and wind, and merchants dressed finer than kings. Yet for all the music and merriment, Zelda's attention was elsewhere.

Purah, already halfway across the table, was practically vibrating. Her goblet wobbled dangerously as she leaned in, eyes gleaming. "Zelda," she whispered—loudly. "I've been dying all evening. Can we please show you your surprise now?"

Zelda arched a brow. "You mean you've kept a secret this long without exploding?"

"Barely," Purah grinned. "But I'm a woman of science. We practice patience. Occasionally."

Across the table, Prince Arcturus chuckled as he swirled his wine. "She's telling half the truth, which is more than usual," he said warmly. "But this—this you'll like, niece."

Zelda narrowed her eyes playfully between them. "This isn't going to be like your last 'restored heirloom,' is it? The one that turned out to be a glorified chamber pot from the Third Age?"

Purah gasped, clutching her heart as if struck. "That was not a chamber pot! It was... possibly a ceremonial basin! For sacred rituals! ..." Purah then sighed with a relent. It was probably. A chamber pot. But this isn't that, this is much, much better!"

Daruk, seated just beyond the King, thumped his fist on the table as laughter rumbled from his chest. "That thing? Oh-ho! We used it to boil hot rocks for stew back at the southern post! It worked great and it was so beautiful in its workmanship!"

There was a moment of stunned silence—then an eruption of laughter, nobles and commoners alike. Even Impa cracked the ghost of a smile.

Zelda blinked. Then blinked again.

Dear Hylia... thank goodness Gorons eat stone and not Hylian mutton, she thought, best not tell him what that is, repressing the sudden, horrifying image of a sacred urinal doubling as a soup pot.

She composed herself with grace, though her lips twitched with amusement. "Well," she said, folding her hands in her lap like any proper heir to the throne, "perhaps we should be more cautious labeling antiquities next time. Especially if they smell faintly of vinegar."

Arcturus lifted his goblet in salute. "Duly noted, my sweet Niece. No more ceremonial cookware without a proper...well, test."

"Especially not ones with handles," Purah muttered under her breath, crossing her arms as Daruk laughed even harder.

Zelda giggled despite herself, the warmth of it rising alongside her anticipation. She could feel the shift in energy now—something was coming. Something real. Her fingers tingled slightly as if her curiosity had sparked something in the air.

She glanced from Purah to Arcturus, both of them wearing the same infuriatingly pleased expressions.

"So," Zelda said, eyes narrowing with mock suspicion, "what sort of surprise weighs more than an ox and needs to be smuggled in under silk?" She remembered the huge contraptions being pulled by teams earlier.

Arcturus raised a single finger. "No hints."

"But I will say this," Purah added, winking, "it took over sixty-five leagues of rough mountain hauling to bring them here. And yes—we had Goron help."