Early Afternoon, February 17th, 611 GK, The War of Imprisonment, Day 581
Meeting of the Princess' Council, Throne Room, Lake Hylia
With the Hylians trapped at the lake, the Princess' ministers were unable to bring her any useful news of the outside world. The entire kingdom – and thus the sovereign's complete attention – was focused down onto the small sliver of land that they held beside the lake. Each day it was the same: food was getting scarcer, stores of clothing and medicine were running low, and disease was becoming rampant through both the army and Laketown. To make matters worse, the coldest winter in living memory had come and the lake was beginning to freeze over.
"Soon, we will be without fresh water." The Princess muttered to her council, "We must do something." "Pardon, your royal highness," began one minister, "but all efforts have met with failure. The snow is too deep – our soldiers and workers cannot move in this accursed cold. We must wait for the spring to come." He finished, timid and defeated. "If we wait, none of us will be left to see the Spring!" she spat, staring angrily down at the war map on her table.
For several moments, the room stood in silence as the helpless ministers and advisors waiting for her to speak again. "Every problem has a solution… it is simply a matter of finding it! Or… failing to find it… and dying." She whispered out loud to herself. The others shifted nervously and glanced at one another. Lord Alfon stood to her right, slowly stroking his beard and creasing his brow in concentration on the map. Impa, the Princess' warden and regent, stood to her left and rested a hand upon the girl's shoulder. "We will, your grace… we will." She soothed. "My lord," she lifted her voice, looking up at the Marshal, "How many months have passed since we were cut off? How much longer could the outlands possibly last without us? If they have not fallen already?"
The great knight did not acknowledge her. He just continued to stare down at the map and study the small pins and flags pressed into its surface. The West, North, and Northeast were all blocked by Ganon's horde. To the South and East rose the cliffs of the lake's basin and the endless Kokiri and Faron Forests. But at the far end of the lake, opposite their town, a small break in the rocks acted as an overflow relief for the lake when heavy rains threatened to swell it beyond its banks. It was a narrow ravine – perhaps wide enough for three or four men to march shoulder-to-shoulder through it, but its base was a broken and uneven riverbed. Alfon's eyes focused on this small break upon the map, until Impa began to shout.
"Damn it man! DO SOMETHING! You are the Marshal of Hyrule! Champion of the Goddess! Take your army and drive the beasts back!" she roared, slamming her hand upon the table – desperate to make him look at her. He released his chin and folded his arms in front of his chest, but he still did not turn to her. She may have been regent, but Impa and Alfon had developed a serious quarrel between them that was steadily deepening. He doubted her ability to control her emotions and she doubted his worthiness at being Commander of the Army.
"Impa… please." Zelda scolded, resting a hand on her matron's fist. But Impa's eyes were wide and filled with rage. "You just stand there," she hissed at him, "staring at maps and bringing excuses! While my village – while our homes are sacked and raped by these… these… MONSTERS! A Marshal has to act to win a war, my lord! Or did you not realize that?!" The councilors quietly lowered their eyes to the floor and stood motionless. These arguments and bitter fights were becoming too frequent, but they knew that it would be far worse if they attempted to interfere. Lord Alfon was Marshal, Lady Impa was Regent, And Her Highness was Sovereign. The three of them had to decide how to settle the matter.
"As I recall," he softly began, "You were once a renowned warrior yourself Impa." Slowly, he turned to face her, offering a grimaced look of contempt. "If you still remember how to wear your armor – and are done 'playing queen' - why don't you take a station on the line? I am certain that with your skill this war could be won most expediently."
What remained of her self-control was quickly breaking. Impa's lips pulled back, gnashing her teeth at him and her mind turned to the dagger concealed in her bodice. The Princess, still in tune with her teacher's spirit from their training, quickly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Stop." She commanded quietly. "My Lord, you forget yourself and you speak dishonorably." She said, turning an angry eye back to him. "Apologize to your Regent. We are all tired and under great strain – that is no secret – but we cannot turn against one another."
He knew she was right. Every soldier worth his boots knew that it was foolish to quarrel with others during a war – petty disputes were not worth the cost of defeat. But his heart burned with bitterness at how she dogged him. For months, every failure, every disappointment, was heaped upon his shoulders. She mercilessly blamed him for the siege the Hylians found themselves under and impatiently demanded that he conjure up some miracle to drive the enemy back. The truth was: they were losing. Their army was far too small and poorly equipped, while Ganon's numbers seemed to be limitless. His men were either young or feeble – timid and ineffective in battle, while the enemy was strong and bloodthirsty.
With the natural defenses of the lake, however, he could keep them at bay. It was simply a matter of finding a source of supplies and communication. The deep cold and their desperation now brought a new idea to him. "We cannot fight our way out, your highness. No, please-" he raised a hand to stop her from objecting, "No matter how much faith you place in us, we simply do not have the numbers or the weapons needed to break such a large army." Impa snorted and rolled her eyes, turning away. "Oh yes," he followed, "I beg for your pardon, my lady, I was indecent – Now, your highness," he quickly added, leaving no time for the sheikah to respond, "If we cannot get out through the enemy, then we must find another way." He finished, pointing to the flood ravine on the map. Zelda frowned and looked up at him, "What do you mean, my lord?" she asked.
"We cut our way through to Faron, your highness." He answered flatly.
The Princess' mind quickly returned to what the spirit had said to her. She believed that it was a sign, and that there must have been much more to what the sword was trying to tell her than she realized. When Impa and the other ministers could offer no other feasible options, the Princess agreed to explore Lord Alfon's idea. Within a few days, the surface of the lake would freeze enough to allow a small band of workmen with axes and bows to walk across to the narrow ravine at the southeast side. There they would find a rocky, but passable riverbed, travelling southward into the great forest. In a short time, they moved beyond the hills that encircled the lake, and built a small log work-house at the edge of the trees.
After agreeing to the plan and dismissing the rest of her council, Zelda directed the Marshal to stay and speak with her privately.
Late Afternoon, February 17th, 611 GK, The War of Imprisonment, Day 581
Provincial Throne Room, Lake Hylia
Slowly lowering himself to one knee and bowing his head, the ever-honorable Alfon recited, "Your servant awaits your command, your royal highness." As he spoke, the princess swept behind her throne and removed the Master Sword from its perch. "We have delayed for far too long, my lord." She announced, approaching him and lowering the its grip down to him. "Take it, and use it to turn back the tide." Utterly shocked, the man leaned back away from it and his mouth hung open in disbelief. "Take it, my lord. That is an order!" she finished.