Prologue

The crushed tendrils of a wholly fresh day still linger long in the slanting rays of the sun. Bits of cloth and scraps of parchment drift by on the wind, blown into the air by the updraft of the burning castle.

"Like fresh petals on a spring breeze, escaping, for a brief moment, the inevitable death of decay. Ahh, but there they go, eaten by the embers that trail on the edges. Consumed at last."

"My Queen?" comes a harsh voice from behind.

Zelda grips the reigns of her horse and turns to her captain, her reverie broken. Her crown rests lightly on her long hair but it is her only allowance of royalty. The tight leather of a soldier creaks as she shifts on the saddle and the pommel of her long sword is always in her hand. Her eyes bear the mark of the long war, deeply cut lines that remain even when she gazes expressionless over the new town below.

"Do you think they know that the embers of this war still burn at the edges, Malon? That even when the fire is put out that hundreds of small bits may flame up and threaten to consume. Do they understand how at chance we are to any small breeze that may grow to a wildfire?"

Malon turns her horse with the Queen's to look at the newly erected town. The smoke of cooking fires and the sound of happy living fill the evening sky. "My Queen, I don't understand," says Malon.

Zelda closes her eyes and shakes herself, rubbing the triangle tattoo on her hand. "I'm sorry, my friend. I was somewhere else. What did you want?"

Malon, her friend and captain of Hyrule's new army; once a beautiful and joyful girl, now turned equally as hard and uncompromising a soldier by the war. She is a cynic of peace only because she knows how fragile it is, how quick it can turn bad. There is a scar over her left eye and she bears her muscular arms almost in defiance of the steely beauty that still remains to her.

Malon pulls in closer and points at the bonfire of flames that licks about the shattered towers of the old castle. "Couldn't we have saved the wood for rebuilding the castle?"

"No, my captain," says Zelda. "For seven years the tyrant haunted that castle. His body was the pointed roofs and towers, his eyes the glowing windows at night. People heard the screams from the dungeons and heard only his voice yelling in triumphant. No, Malon, we must make an end somewhere, even if it is only symbolic. We burn the castle and we burn him."

"And then we raise it again," adds Malon.

"You're right, we must." Zelda is quiet for a moment as the sun sinks towards Fire Mountain. The flat grassy plain that the castle had stood on is lit by the golden light. It's an almost peaceful scene marred slightly by the bonfire, reminding them of how much has been lost. Towards the edge of the plain, before descending down towards the town, the Queen's temporary sanctuary has been raised. Not far from it is the only structure that still remains from the old castle, a solitary tower that once served as a lookout for the kingdom. The top is shattered and only the toothy remains of stone blocks stick up into the sky. "Let us ride for a moment, captain," orders Zelda and together they set out towards the tower."

Zelda dismounts at the stone wall of the tower and walks inside among the ruins. Malon impatiently jumps down and follows.

The tall tower is hollow inside and the grass floor is strewn with fallen blocks. But in the middle is a clearing where someone has set a small, round golden disc in the soft earth. Together the two women walk over to the disc. Zelda seats herself on a fallen stone while Malon grounds up grass as she paces.

"My Queen!" Malon begins but Zelda holds up her hand to speak.

"Do you think he knew death was coming for him, in the end? I think he knew and yet had no choice. I think each step he made towards power trapped him from ever going back. Death must have been a blessed release."

"And as much as we must hate him for what he has done, surely there must be a little pity? In the end it was the power that destroyed a man. Power." And almost to herself Zelda whispers, "A burden to be sure, for how do we act best with it?"

Malon has heard this before. The story of how he was defeated. And she does not care a bit for the tyrant, no matter how he died. She only wishes she could have the opportunity to put a sword through his heart. But Zelda is the Queen and Malon knows what responsibility sits on her brow. So she squats on the ground, waiting for Zelda to come to the matter. The golden disc is covered in dust and she brushes it off. Her fingers go over the raised triangles and the words that span the borders. Wisdom, Courage and Power, read the words.

Finally Malon raises her voice, "Zelda, my Queen, we must pursue them and finish it."

"Then we will be murderers," says Zelda in a small voice.

"Not murderers!" shouts Malon. "Revenge. Precaution. Whatever you want to call it! We must pursue them before they can call upon their clans and regroup. They will be back, you know it! He was their leader and they will call for vengeance."

In a calm voice Zelda says "And would you kill their children?"

Malon clenches her fists, almost in a rage. There are memories deep down that threaten to boil over. In a steely voice, she calls across the clearing, "When I was a child all people seemed like the ivory statues that stood in the great square of this castle, with marble faces upturned towards the sky. But I am a woman now and this is the truth. Most are like the weeds and ivy that choke the great. They climb about the necks of the just, the better, the good and claw and push until they all fall. This is what people are and I can never forget it."

"Not all people, Malon, not all."

But Malon slams her fist down on a rock. "My father! Killed protecting our farm from those black creatures. And when I tried to bury his body and protect the farm that bastard Enigo, our servant, came back. I-I-I I got him in the end, that I did, but he was the scum, the ivy that try and choke all that is good." Her nostrils flare and the veins in her temple throbs. "Those women? They chose their path, so yes, for every child I had to bury or every scream in the dark and anguish in a mother's eyes, yes their children will follow them to the grave."

Malon ends her outburst with a final sentence shot out through compressed lips, "It is a weakness to spare them."

Zelda looks up at the pale red clouds shot through with pink and wonders who this woman is that she used to know. "Has war so thoroughly changed us all?" she wonders.

She strokes a finger across her tattoo and speaks quietly into the silence between the two of them, "Do you know what balances the world, Malon? Do you know what we give to each other so that those black beast and foul men cannot tip the scale? I think you knew it once and have only buried under it hatred."

"Hope. And when my kingdom was lost and our chances gone in time? Even then. And when I fell and will fall again, I hear that strange cry of courage and I believe there's always hope. Even as my failures and regrets pile up into mountains that press heavy upon all thoughts and all hours of my life, still it is there."

"Yes, it is my weakness, my biggest one. I can never give up and so my fall is so infinitely far every time I fail. One day I came secretly to my people while the tyrant ruled and the only light I could see in their eyes was defeat. Yes, it was a weakness, and a pain. More, it was the kiss of lingering death to see no hope in people that had once lived in peace a few years earlier. In the clear light of that day they were my peers, my jury that judged solidly every crack and strain of my countenance. Do you know how that feels? Hyrule is me and I am Hyrule. Each of us must be the best of Hyrule. "

"Then night comes and the moon shines it light again down and I see that my people are still beautiful and it is only that I chose to see their defeat. That, Malon, is my lesson. Hope must always exist, and if it does not, then you must believe in it even more."

Zelda stands up and walks around the grassy clearing to where Malon is kneeling. She puts her hand on the short-cropped hair of her captain and speaks to her, "Have you lost hope, Malon, that some people can be good?"

Malon keeps her eyes on the golden disc and the three triangles that represent a struggle far bigger than she can comprehend. She has been a soldier, a resistance fighter, a lover and a rancher. Killing has taken up last few years of her life and it's so hard to see beyond the blood. She tries to remember how she found the will to carry on after losing her father; how she could carry men and women to battle.

The soldier shifts a little when the memory comes. A boy in green, talking together in a field of wheat under that stars. He had spoken of courage, so serious at that age. There seems to be a feeling there, lost to time, but when it surfaces Malon's heart skips a beat.

Finally Malon rises and looks her Queen in the eye, "No. To lose that would mean we fought for nothing."

Zelda looks her in the eye for a long silent moment. Finally she nods and says, "Round three contingents of new recruits and go to the desert. Make sure they mean not to invade a second time."

Malon nods, "it will be done." She turns and almost runs out. Before the sound of the running horse has faded Zelda can hear her calling out for her generals.

Zelda sighs and rubs her tattoo which has been slowly aching. She looks again down at the golden plaque, the last that remains of the dead tyrant. "I know, I know," she says, speaking to the empty tower, "she'll do more than talk to them. But whose blood is more clean, ours or theirs? I can only hope her sword falls lightly in the desert and finds no wellspring of blood."

Beneath the three triangles is a single face raised in a vicious smile. Zelda never liked the idea of this plaque but a man who once had possessed a great deal of courage said it serves as a good reminder. She smiles down at his golden visage. "Isn't that right Gannon? You knew that lesson all to well. Lose hope enough times and all you're left with is another dead Gerudo."