— Prologue: Official Royal Business —
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3 years ago – 314 A.C.** (After Calamity)
"140 years ago, in the year 174 A.C., the Hylian Champion Link of Hateno, son of Roc and Kitti, defeated the incarnation of Malice known merely as Lesser Malice. In the evil creature's death throes, however, the Champion was mortally wounded. Death would have been certain if not for the quick thinking of the queen at the time, Queen Silena—yes, the Queen Silena, granddaughter of the legendary Queen Zelda and the first Hylian Champion, Prince Consort Link. Under Silena's command, a group of soldiers carried the fallen Champion here, to the Royal Armory atop the Great Plateau—though in those days it was still the Shrine of Resurrection. It was Silena's son, Lyman, who developed the Shrine into the Armory we know today. With the help of ancient technology, Lyman and a crew of royal scientists were able to replicate the healing properties of the original Resurrection Cradle, creating what you see here today: cryopods. We call them the Tubes. Here at the Armory, royal scientists work alongside Yiga engineers to keep this place in tip-top shape. We're always working to improve the technology and integrate new scientific discoveries, so that the warriors – and Heroes – of yesterday will be ready if Malice strikes tomorrow.
"Well, Your Highnesses, here he is. The Hero himself. He used to be located in the entry hall in the Resurrection Cradle, but with new advancements we were able to create a special resting place for him: the Goddess Tube. It might look like your ordinary cryopod, sure, but it's the latest in a line of purely Yiga technology. Since the downfall of the Sheikah fifteen years ago, we've been working to phase out the old Sheikah tech and move forward with the latest in restorative technology. It all culminated in this: the Goddess Tube, where the Hero's body now sleeps, waiting to be Resurrected whenever Malice should once again threaten his beloved land of Hyrule.
"So, Princess Zelda, Princess Lydia. What do you think?"
"I think it's ghastly," whispered Princess Lydia to her older sister.
"Hush," Zelda reprimanded her under her breath. "He was willing to give his life for us." She turned to the guide and smiled her best princess smile. "It's fascinating, thank you."
"I thought you'd say that," the man grinned. He was a Hylian of medium build, with light brown skin and a thick head of dark hair. His eyes were golden behind his enormous spectacles. His uniform, unlike the standard royal blue of the guards, consisted of gray overalls and a pressed white shirt. Zelda wondered whether he usually dressed like this, or if this was a formality presented only to members of the royal family.
Two blank-faced guards were stationed at the doors, bearing no visible weapons—or emotions. Zelda supposed either would be useless this deep into the catacombs that had been carved by Goron engineers beneath the Plateau nearly 150 years ago. Anyone who reached this room would have to get past a hundred guards, two at each doorway and several patrolling both inside and out; and even if anyone did manage to get inside, he'd be left to navigate through a tricky labyrinth of passages lined with lesser warriors' Tubes. This room, the Hero's Chamber, was located deep below the heart of the Plateau, surrounded on all sides by nothing but solid, impassable rock. There was only one way in and one way out.
It occurred to Zelda, suddenly, that she ought to be more afraid here, beneath tons of rock in a tiny room with one exit with only her sister, a guide, two guards, and the body of a fallen Hero; not even her personal guard was allowed in this room. She was delighted to find she was not afraid—not even a little.
A third guard appeared at the door and gestured importantly at the guide. The man adjusted his glasses and looked nervous for all of a second before turning to the princesses cheerily.
"Looks like your father's calling for me. Official royal business, you know. Why don't you girls stay here, have a look around? If you need anything, just ask Tess or Harvin there." He gestured to the guards, whose faces remained impassive. "Your Highnesses," he added as an afterthought, and, bowing, followed the guard down the corridor.
While she was facing the door, Zelda took the opportunity to a little more closely at the guards—Tess and Harvin—and realized perhaps they didn't need weapons to fight effectively. She hoped that was the case. She wasn't sure whether she'd feel better if they had weapons.
Then she realized their weapon was right in front of her.
The Hero.
In the vertical tube before her, a young man – her age or perhaps a little older – was suspended in a strange, glowing blue liquid. He wore nothing but a pair of dark blue shorts—boxers? Zelda didn't tend to concern herself with the particulars of men's undergarments—which left the rest of his body in full view. Despite his lanky build, his body was muscled and covered with scars of all sizes, from wide pink gashes to hair-thin lines barely visible through the glass and the liquid. His shoulder-length blond hair was loose in the liquid, moving gently in an invisible current; his eyes were closed. He looked—peaceful. Almost as if he were really just asleep. Zelda placed a hand on the glass, wishing that he could remain in that sleep forever. After fighting Malice, he deserved that, didn't he? Had he given Silena his consent to be brought here? What right did her ancestor have to make that decision for him? Here he was to remain young and broken forever, to be treated like a weapon, a piece of metal to be thrown at the enemy whenever necessary. That was no way to treat someone who saved the kingdom. Surely he wouldn't want this. And if he didn't—didn't he deserve a say in his fate?
Her sister's voice broke her from her reverie.
"Official royal business." Lydia was staring at the Goddess Tube, frowning. "Father wouldn't have brought us here if he didn't have official royal business." These words she spat sourly.
"Lydia." Zelda moved closer to her sister and placed a hand on her shoulder. Lydia shrugged it off, stepping away. "Lydia," Zelda said again. "He's trying his best, okay? He didn't have to bring us along. He could have left us at the castle."
"I wish he had. At least then we wouldn't be stuck in this creepy place." Lydia kicked the base of the Tube. The thirteen-year-old had inherited their mother's black hair and brown eyes—and her temper. Zelda shot a glance over her shoulder at the guards, who merely watched more closely.
"Don't," Zelda hissed, grabbing Lydia's shoulders and moving her away. Lydia tore herself free from her sister's grasp, but Zelda went on, "Look, I know it's been hard since Mother died. Especially for Father. You know how he kept to himself for so long. But he's trying to include us in his life again. Don't fault him for trying to fix things."
Lydia was quiet. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. Angry, she lifted her head and looked at Zelda. "Why couldn't they have brought Mother here?" she asked, voice breaking. "They could have saved her, like they saved—like they saved him." She threw an arm out, gesturing toward the Hero.
"Oh, Lydia." Zelda had to look away from her sister's tearful face, fearing she'd start crying herself. "I—I thought that myself. Not just for Mother, but for—"
"Hilda," Lydia realized, eyes wide. "Zel, I—"
"I looked in every book I could find, because I had to know—had to know if there was still a chance… for… for either of them. But the thing about cryostasis… the subject has to be living, Lydia."
Lydia let out a quiet sob. "Mother," she whispered.
"It would have been too late," Zelda replied softly.
They were quiet a minute. Zelda was all too aware of the guards' presence. "Wipe your eyes," she said sharply, her sympathy evaporating. "We don't want Father walking in on us like this."
Lydia glared at her, scrubbing at her face. "Just when I thought you were being nice to me," she muttered.
"I'm sorry, Lydia," Zelda said, not sounding or feeling very sorry, "but we're princesses, do you understand? We have to be strong. Valiant and steady. We must represent our country at all times, show no weaknesses. Because our weaknesses are Hyrule's weaknesses—just as our strength is Hyrule's strength."
Lydia sniffed. "Is that what Father tells you? Why you act more like a robot than a human being?" She turned and muttered under her breath, "You couldn't even cry when Mother died."
Zelda exploded. "Enough!" she snarled. "I bear my pain in silence, as is my duty to my country." Her voice broke, and she added, "You would do well to do the same." She whirled on the guards, finger stabbing across the room at them. "Not a word about this, understand?"
"Yes, Your Highness," came the murmur of assent. Neither guard gave any indication that they much cared. Tess even had the gall to look bored. This sent a fresh wave of fury through Zelda, but she forced herself to take a breath and calm herself.
"I apologize," she said to Lydia, who turned away in a huff. She added, half desperate, "I'm just—frustrated. You know that. I'm 15 years old and still my powers haven't surfaced. The Gift hasn't manifested so late since the first Zelda—all those years ago. And with the rumors of Malice's return—Father places more pressure on me now than ever. You know how hard that is for me. You know that."
"Yeah, whatever," came the huffed reply.
Zelda looked at Lydia's back, feeling more distant from her sister than ever—more alone than ever. After a moment, she sighed, and her gaze was drawn back to the Hero's slumbering face. If we had known each other, would we have been friends? she wondered, reaching out as if to touch his face through the glass.
Just then came the sounds of conversation from down the corridor, the deep boom of her father's laugh included. Arranging her features in an expression of neutral interest, Zelda turned to face the king.
"Zelda!" her father boomed in greeting. King Leon was a large man, his shoulders barely fitting through the narrow entranceway. He spread his arms wide as though to embrace Zelda but paused a few feet away, looking uncertainly to Lydia, who half turned to meet his gaze before looking away quickly. "Lydia," he added more quietly. "My dear, lovely daughters." His blue eyes flicked to meet Zelda's. Within them were a question, but she shook her head.
The guide slipped into the room, followed by an escort of guards and a group of scientists, distinguishable by their different outfits—dark blue uniforms for the guards, white for the scientists. The royal family's symbol was emblazoned on all of their chests, just over the heart, to symbolize where their loyalties lay. There seemed to be some enmity between the guards and the scientists, as they didn't stand too close to each other; that and there seemed to be some exchanging of glares.
"Er, Your Majesty, would you and your daughters like to see Sir Lucas Harrow? Captain of the Guard under Silena and later Lyman. Knighted for his services in the fight against Lesser Malice…" The guide trailed off, noting the dark look Lydia cast his way. "Or perhaps you'd like to be escorted out. You've had a long day, yes?"
"Yes, thank you, Walhart," Leon murmured, not quite paying attention. His gaze was locked on the Goddess Tube and the Hero inside.
"Willard," the guide corrected. "Willard Strum, Your Majesty." He cleared his throat, but Leon didn't turn. The blue glow of the Tube cast his face and cropped blond hair in a blue hue. "W-well, yes, ah, right this way, Majesty, Highnesses," Willard stammered. "Back to the surface, yes? Foll—follow me."
He hurried out of the chamber, the scientists in tow; the guards idled outside the door, waiting for their liege. Lydia swept out of the room, resolutely not looking at her father. Zelda made to leave but hesitated, looking back at King Leon.
"Will—" Her voice faltered, and she had to start again. "Father, if Malice returns, will—will we have to wake him? The Hero?"
Finally Leon turned away from the Tube. "Daughter," he replied, "I was wondering the same thing." He clapped a hand on her shoulder. "But enough of that. We'll both sprout gray hairs with all this worrying. Let's go home, shall we? I think we're both in need of a good meal and some rest, yes? And we'll see how your sister is doing. Giovanna, that is. I do hope her cold has cleared up."
"Yes, Father," Zelda murmured, letting her father guide her out of the chamber. Before they left, however, she glanced once more over her shoulder at the Hero.
She could have sworn she saw his eyelids twitch out of the corner of her eye, but by the time she stepped out into the night air, she had dismissed it as a trick of the light and forgotten it.
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A/N: Hello folks, it's godtierGrammarian. You might recognize me from several one-shots posted the summer of 2015 - if you've never heard of me before, do me a solid and check those out. Especially if you like angst. I love angst. I'm hoping for a lot of it here.
This is my first longfic in a while, so here are some things to know: as this is a first chapter/prologue, the rest of the chapters ought to be longer than this, possibly substantially longer as I get the hang of it again. Longer chapters, however, mean less frequent posting. Possibly erratic posting. I can't guarantee a posting schedule because of a lovely little thing called depression that likes to muck up my plans. Case in point: you get what you get when you get it and please don't yell at me I'm doing my best. You know the drill. Leave nice comments, get nice chapters. Everybody wins.
I hope you'll stick around and that you'll love this world as much as I do. There will be many OCs along for the ride, but I hope you won't let that deter you. This is going to be a wild ride and I'm incredibly excited to write it.
Thanks for reading,
godtierGrammarian
**A note on the timeline: Calamity Ganon returned in the year 1 A.C. and was defeated in 100 A.C. Thus to see how long after Breath of the Wild an event took place, take the year A.C. and subtract 100. Also note: All events prior to 1 A.C. take place in years B.C. (Before Calamity). 1 A.C. to 100 A.C. are also occasionally referred to as the 100 Years of Calamity.