To Blacken the Lake
Prologue
Our mother kept telling us not to play by the lake too much. We might fall in and drown or get bitten by a bug and get an infection.
Most importantly, she said not to touch the black rock.
There was a tale of an evil wizard who planted the rock there and cursed it with magic. If anyone were to touch it, their worst nightmare would become reality.
My sister and I, of course, rarely listened to our mother. Even if she was Queen of Hyrule, Zelda and I would still play in that lake. We would hunt for shells, snatch at fish, and splash each other with the crystal blue waters.
Zelda, being a year older, was the smarter and more responsible one: she never even dared go near the black rock. As much as I teased her about being cowardly, it never fazed her. She refused to have anything to do with it.
I, however, wasn't so safe. I marched right over to that rock and slammed my open palm on its slick metallic surface to prove I was the bravest of the both of us.
My sister didn't think it so amusing. Her eyes narrowed at me and she immediately snatched my hand and dragged me straight to our mother.
To this day, I laugh at the story. After all, my worst nightmare has been very obvious to those I love most and they've noticed that nothing of the sort has come to pass.
I suppose the tale was just that: a tale and nothing more.
But how very wrong I came to find out I was.