Disclaimer: All characters, places, and etc. belong solely to Nintendo and Legend of Zelda. I claim no ownership of any of it.
Chapter Two: Training Regimes
"Alright, rookies! Today is the day when you take the next step! No longer will you be doing rigorous all-day workouts. Instead, for the next month, we will be focusing on swordplay." The sergeant said, catching Link's eye as he spoke. There were thirty-five left including himself. Unfortunately for most, the Sprinkles kid and his lackeys hadn't washed out yet. Link had hoped that they wouldn't last, but he knew it wouldn't be the case. They had all been in for about six months just getting in shape, so the chances of washing out were lower than ever now.
"Sergeant, sir, who will be instructing us?" Link asked, curious about where the teaching would come from. He already was very talented in swordplay, and he had been since he was incredibly young. But he knew that there was always more to learn, and was eager to do so.
"It's ironic that the question came from you, Alpha," The sarge replied. He had started calling him that ever since that day around four months ago. He seemed to have a thing for nicknames.
"Why is it ironic, sir?" Link asked once again.
"It's ironic, Alpha, because Sir Forester will be teaching you for at least the next month," he finished, with a hint of a smile on his face. Link had to laugh inwardly. He should have expected his father to do the swordplay instruction. He was one of the best combatants in Hyrule, and one of the few he had left to best. "Now, cadets, please welcome Sir Forester of the Royal Guard to the training ground!"
The doors to the training area swung open, and a knight stepped through. He wore the classic navy uniform of the royal guard, including an ornate dark broadsword hanging at his left side. The royal crest was displayed prominently across his shoulder, with his own golden eagle crest inside the missing triangle.
"Good morning, cadets. I assume that the sarge here has made sure you know who I am?" Sir Forester said, a stroke of authority in his voice.
"Yes, sir!" Link replied with his fellow trainees.
"Good. Then you also know I report to the king. I'm sure the sergeant has yet to tell you this, but it'll spare him the duty," the noble elaborated pacing in front of the group. "If I see cadets who horse around and don't take this seriously, then they will have to personally deal with me and perhaps the king."
Dead silence covered the cadets. They all knew what that could entail and wanted no part of it.
"However, that's not why I'm here. During my period of time here, I will be selecting six of you to accompany me and the sarge on our scouting expedition to Hebra next month, granting you the first chance at field training."
Excited murmuring raced through them, each curious as to who would go. Link stayed quiet. He, along with Fox and Hawkin, knew there was more than just military on that mission. His father had told him that a few other members of the royal house may be joining that expedition. It wasn't strictly scouting. Or training.
"But first, I need to teach you. And to do that, I need to get a read on what you can do. Can I get a volunteer?" Sir Forester asked. All of the cadets raised their hands. Link already knew what would happen, so he joined in to try and spare them.
But as he expected, he didn't get picked for a demo. Instead, his father pointed to the ringleader of jerkwads. "You there. Step forward." The older boy complied, a smug look on his face. "What's your name, cadet?"
Before the bastard could speak, the sarge interjected. "We call him Sprinkles. He's the leader of them cupcakes over there."
The knight chuckled. "Well then, Sprinkles, would you like to try your hand at swordplay?"
"Absolutely, Sir Forester!" Sprinkles exclaimed. As the sergeant distributed training poles, the ringleader had such an oblivious attitude as to what was about to happen. He obviously thought he would walk out on top, with more followers than ever in the trainees. Link chuckled at this, knowing he wouldn't be ridiculed for it. His father, he knew, was laughing inwardly at this too.
"Hawkin, Fox, this is gonna be really entertaining," he said quietly to his two closest friends.
"He has no clue, does he," Fox murmured, quietly having a fit of laughter.
"How do you know your old man will win, Link?" Hawkin asked, a bit more of a serious look on.
"It's not that I know he'll win. It's that Sprinkles over there is so Dindamned oblivious that he will lose regardless," Link explained, still cackling at the sight. "Now hush. I want to see this."
"Ready position!" The noble shouted. Sprinkles set himself in a loose stance with one hand on his weapon. He wobbled slightly before balancing, as the knight across from him stayed in a relaxed position, leaning on his own sparring weapon. "Now, attack me!"
"Sir?" The kid asked. He was truly an idiot.
"Farore, cadet! Are you ignorant? I said attack me!"
Sprinkles made what would have looked like a good swing to the untrained eye. But Link saw flaws immediately. His grip was loose. His muscles were relaxed. His arm wobbled as it swung. Link counted less than a second before his father's reaction.
In that period of time, Sir Forester's stick had snapped around to block the blow with ease. His stance instantly melded from one of relaxation to one of action. His grip was firm and controlling. A cool blue light of confidence shone in his eyes, and the cadet's confidence faded.
Sprinkles made a few more sloppy attacks. All things considered, he had some of the basics. A little training, and he would be a halfway-decent soldier. But the knight opposing him was millennia ahead in skill. So, rather than landing a blow, all they heard was a loud clack each time the cadet made a swing.
The knight began to have a rather bored expression on his face, and Link knew that meant this comedy play was about to wrap up rather abruptly. In three swings, Sir Forester smacked Sprinkles's thigh, forearm, and sent the training weapon flying across the area before coming to a rest at the cadet's throat. Gasps echoes from the cadets as Sprinkles limped back to the ranks, exaggerating his mild injuries as much as he could.
Sir Forester dropped his own weapon in the dirt. "It is wildly apparent to me now that you lack the proper skill necessary to even pick up a sword. So, I will have to start from the bottom. We're going to be practicing fundamentals for the next few days," He said. The sparring weapons were collected and placed back in the corner of the courtyard. "Now, take a stance that you feel is a good place for you to start."
All of the cadets took slightly different stances. Some were decent, sturdy enough to hold up under pressure but also loose enough to move quickly. Others were all across the board, from hyper-aggressive to tragically docile. Link's father walked down the line, adjusting each cadet's stance to a much better version of what they had to start. When Link was being examined, his father looked up and down, nodded, then moved on to the next one. This drew whispers from the rest of the cadets, and dirty looks to go along with it from Sprinkle's 'Cupcake Club' as the Sarge called them. Link had seen this coming. His father had trained him in swordplay long before he had ever been in the cadets.
After Sir Forester adjusted the rest of the cadets to a better pose, he called for a 'ready position'. Most of the cadets took a step back with their hands grasping imaginary swords by their sides. Link didn't. Instead, he kept the same position as his initial stance, and both of his hands on an imaginary sword with his eyes focused forward. While he intended to be a good soldier and blend in with the rest, he couldn't resist the chance to one-up Sprinkles and the Cupcake Club. They're just asking for it with that name.
Once again, Sir Forester walked by all the rookies, adjusting their posture and stance to a more correct version. He didn't even bother to look at Link this time, instead skipping right over and making a few minor adjustments to Fox's pose. Another round of whispers and dirty looks from the peanut gallery. At least not all of them hated him now. Only the Cupcakes.
And so it went for the next few days. While his father went over basic positions and movements with the rest of the cadets, it was all review for Link. Even somewhat boring. Stand here, step there, arms here, head steady, and on and on. He continued to draw more and more attention from his fellow cadets. Even Fox and Hawkin had begun treating him less like one of their fellow cadets but more like a leader. An example to watch. Link appreciated this for what it was worth, but didn't really want it. It made him feel like he had to be a golden boy all the time, not make a single error. Despite himself, that's exactly what he did.
About five days after his father had first set foot in the training grounds, training weapons were finally distributed out to each cadet. They were led through a series of drills with the weapons, from basic patterns of strokes to where they felt most comfortable having a blade on them. Most liked their non-dominant side hip, like Sir Forester. But Link preferred his back, simply because it allowed for a greater range of motion than having a scabbard banging against your leg. He grew tired of running through basic drills and began experimenting with the weapon movements. Adding little flicks and jabs here and there to insert quickly while still doing the moves as instructed. Only his father saw these, and made no move to stop him.
Soon enough, most cadets had mastered basic movements, and the concept of the different forms was introduced. From there on out, the cadets paired off, practicing their chosen form or forms with a partner to fence with. Link didn't really have a solid partner. He had skill in every form and both hands, so everyone kept swapping partners with him. He easily bested most, but still had a few here and there who took a little while to beat. He was learning, too. Forms were modified sometimes, or new moves were inserted here and there. He learned to counter these surprise attacks somewhat easily and began constructing his own highly complex form to refine and test. This wasn't required at all. He just didn't want anyone to see his moves coming.
But of course, skill began to attract attention. Too much attention.
"Focus, Princess. Do you feel anything?"
Princess Zelda was kneeling before a statue of the goddess Hylia in the sanctum of the castle town church. For whatever reason, the nobles and elders had thought that because her powers were holy, from 'The blood of the goddess', prayer would awaken her power. But as usual, kneeling before a stone in an empty church had done nothing but make her grow more frustrated.
"No, I don't. As usual." She replied to the priest that had let her into the church during closed hours.
"Princess, you won't unlock your power unless-" the noble began.
"-Unless I'm single-minded in discovering it. Yes, I know!" she finished for him, an aggravated tone creeping in.
"Princess! I did not mean to offend you!"
"I know that too!" Zelda said, opening her eyes and giving a harsh look before her expression softened. "I- I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to lash out."
"Perhaps the rest of the day off would be to your liking?"
"You're sure?" She asked, almost afraid to believe it.
"I'm sure. Now, go on. Unless you want to be sitting in front of Hylia all day."
"Thank you!" Zelda exclaimed, rushing out of the room. Her prayer dress flowed behind her like a ghost, carefully watching over her as she went about her training.
Once she was back in the castle, she made her way to her room to change into better attire. The prayer dress looked nice, but it wasn't practical in the slightest. It was light and got dirty easily, and got caught on things a lot. She much preferred her royal outfit. It was much more comfortable. And plus, she didn't really like anything having to do with the gods or praying at the moment.
Ever since that night six months ago, she had slowly been let on to this supposed power that was in her. It could save the boy in the vision. So, when her father announced that her training was to start, she had an enthusiastic dedication to the cause. But after six months of praying and being ignored by the goddess, she had begun to resent Hylia and the gods. It was supposed to be her birthright, so why was it being withheld?
Disregarding this thought, she returned to the castle hallways and went to the library. Here, there were shelves upon shelves of books telling everything from cooking recipes to glamorous adventures and back again. Here, she could relax, and disappear into the tales of others for a short while.
Her favorite titles were the ones on the ancient Sheikah. She marveled at the accomplishments of these 10,000 year old people. The Guardians, and the Divine Beasts, they all sounded so fantastic that it was almost unreal. But, as it turned out, they were real. Zelda was beginning to hear whispers of excavations initiating all across Hyrule in search of these relics. Thing is, they probably didn't have the slightest clue as to where to look.
But in these pages, there were the clues. Maps, even, of where the beasts used to roam. She had discovered riddles and locations. Nothing super strong yet. But she knew in her heart that she would find something. Some sort of obscure location to find or a compass or medallion. Something had to be in these books. It was only a matter of finding it. And soon.
Zelda found the book she had left off on last time still sitting on a lectern on the upper balcony. The Sheikah's Prodigies is what it was called, covered in dust and dirt. But the writing was so technical. Like another language that she somehow knew how to understand. Symbols she had never seen but knew what they represented. Why she could do this was beyond her. She just knew that it was important to understand the words.
After the creation of ancient energy, the Sheikah began harnessing this power to fuel their creations. No longer did they need to fight their wars or lose lives. They had machines do it for them. Guardians truly lived up to the name, but in comparison… Zelda's thoughts began to drift as she read page after page. She already felt hopeless enough with her sealing power. Was it too much to ask that she could find something to help out in these books? ...While the precise locations of the Divine Beasts are unknown, the Sheikah did want their creations to be found again. They left behind several clues and pointers to guide the way… None of this was news. She knew all of this stuff. What would be the point in a fascination with something totally useless? … These clues could be anything. It could be right here, in this book, or it could be some bizarre formation that makes no natural sense whatsoever.
She knew of some pretty bizarre places. But nothing seemed like a marker. Except…
The pierced mountain of Hebra.
It all made so much sense so fast that she hardly had time to comprehend the realization. But it made sense. Vah Medoh supposedly had ties to the Rito, and Hebrawas their neck of the woods. The pierced mountain was by no means natural either. Something blasted a hole through it as if saying, "Look here!" It was so obvious now and made perfect sense. But there was no way she would find anything by staying cooped up in the castle.
She would have to go to Hebra, and find out herself.