The rains fell heavy upon the Lord Hero.
He ran a gloved hand through his long, brown hair, matted and clumped from the heavy rainfall. The firm yet still gentle breeze brought a crisp chill to the air. Winter was fast approaching. No doubt that the morning would bring a heavy frost with it. He wondered how many people would freeze to death overnight, with so many citizens displaced in the streets.
As he gazed out upon the city from his position on the parapet of the Castle, he realized he had never seen the City, no, the Kingdom in such a state. The Hyrule he had grown up in was no longer the Hyrule he saw before him. Gone was the land of rolling green hills and shimmering lakes. That land had perished with Ganondorf.
The breeze blew a bit harsher, and he wrapped his black fur coat more tightly around his shoulders. The sun was only faintly visible on the horizon, fading fast away like the flame of a candle nearing the end of its wick. Symbolic, he supposed, given Hyrule's current situation. It was only a matter of time before the long-forgotten flame of prosperity was snuffed out completely. With every passing day, the people grew more and more restless, more and more sick of the passivity of the Hyrulean monarchy.
If he was honest, he was almost starting to agree with them.
Almost none of the crisis at hand was the Queen's fault. After all, she was young and altogether inexperienced. Mere weeks after she had assumed the throne in the wake of her father's death, an otherworldly foe had usurped her throne and transformed her kingdom into a literal world of shadows. It was a miracle in and of itself that she had managed to hold the kingdom together as well as she had given the circumstances. One could hardly fault her for that.
But Link was beginning to wonder how long the people would suffer before the Council and the Crown would be able to come to an agreement on what to do. Every decision the Queen proposed was met with staunch resistance by the Elders on the Council, who cited their own age and experience as the sole justification for their opposition to her ideas. Easy enough for them; they weren't the ones who had to deal with the tarnishing of their own public reputation when Hyrulean citizens continued to starve, bleed, and die in the streets.
Though Link supposed that was the idea, to use the Queen as the Scapegoat for their treacherous leadership. In any case, Link did not envy her position.
"Lord Hero," a voice from behind him interrupted his thoughts. He glanced ever so slightly over his shoulder, acknowledging the presence of the soldier standing behind him.
"Report, Captain."
"We have the leader of the Zealots in custody, sir."
The Zealots were a group of bandits from the Ordona province, operating mostly from a small settlement just to the east of Ordon Village. While they had always been a minor inconvenience for as long as Link could remember, when he was a boy their crimes had usually amounted to burning crops and stealing goats. In the wake of the present circumstances, however, they had risen to domestic terrorism in the name of "democracy" and "independence". What they actually practiced was sheer anarchy. They traveled from village to village across Hyrule, burning down houses, slaughtering cattle, and abducting men, women, and children to sell into slavery.
In spite of the horrific things they did, the Hylian people who sympathized with the Zealots saw their cause as a welcome alternative to the complete lack of effort presented by the Crown. Lately, their promise of freedom appeared more and more appealing to many people. Those Hylians who weren't utterly terrified of them usually sought them out to join them.
Link turned to face the captain and nodded. Inhaling a deep breath, he spoke solemnly. "Take me to him."
With a quick salute, the soldier turned on his heels and led Link through the upper concourse of the castle. The corridors were empty, indicating that many of the nobility living within the castle's walls had retired to their chambers for the evening. Ordinarily, Link would have accompanied the Queen back to her chambers at this hour.
Tonight, however, was not an ordinary night.
"Was your company met with any resistance, Captain?" Link asked as they turned a corner to a long spiral staircase.
"Quite a bit, your Lordship. The terrorists were immensely stronger than we had originally thought."
"How many casualties?"
The soldier cleared his throat. "Seventeen, sir. Eleven dead and six badly wounded. I fear things would have been much worse had not your Lieutenant accompanied us."
Link nodded. "And the enemy?"
"We utterly decimated their camp, sir. Those who resisted were ultimately put down."
"Excellent," said Link, though he found himself wondering if he truly meant it. However wicked and vile the actions of the Zealots were, they were still Hylians. Was it excellent to take the lives of so many kinsmen? Obviously the nature of the situation at hand justified it, but Link personally took no pleasure in knowing that people were dying at his command.
As the pair neared the bottom of the staircase, the air grew cold and damp, and a musty odor pervaded the atmosphere. Rows upon rows of cell blocks loomed in the corridor ahead, along with the uneasy groans of the prisoners within them. The Captain grabbed a torch from its sconce at the entrance to the hallway. "The prisoner in question is being detained in solitary confinement, your lordship."
Link nodded and stepped forward, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword underneath his cloak. He understood clearly the unspoken warning issued to him by the Captain: Be careful.
The solitary wing was located in the deepest part of the castle's dungeon, and was reserved for the Kingdom's deadliest and most dangerous captives. Anybody deemed fit for solitary was not to be trifled with by even the most expertly trained soldiers. To get there, one had to make their way through a maze of twisting and turning hallways for what seemed like miles on end, passing through five security checkpoints along the way. At each of these checkpoints, a passerby would be provided with a Hylian crest as proof of admittance, as well as a key that would unlock the next gate. If, for whatever reason, anyone wishing to pass through did not procure both of the two items, at any checkpoint, the guards posted at the gates had strict orders to execute on sight.
Not even the Lord Hero himself was above this set of rules, and so he took great care to keep every crest and key very close to him as he passed through the gates.
After several minutes of silent wandering through the dark, twisted corridors, Link approached the fifth and final checkpoint. Directly behind it would be one of the most dangerous people he'd ever encountered in his life. He wrapped his fingers more tightly around the key he held in his hand and addressed the Captain.
"Do not let the prisoner out of your sight, understood?" he said gravely.
"Of course, sir."
Link turned one of the guards posted at the gates and handed him the both the crest and key from the fourth checkpoint. He nodded his thanks and turned to open the gate, and Link fidgeted with the pommel of his sheathed sword.
"You may enter," boomed the gruff voice of the guard as the gate swung open on creaking hinges. Link nodded at the Captain beside him, and both entered the cell.
Around him, whatever warmth had originally existed within the air completely dissipated. The cell was pitch-black, save for the faint flicker of the Captain's torch. In the far corner of the room, Link could barely make out a small, scraggly figure slumped against the wall. There were heavy shackles attached to the man's wrist and ankles that kept him chained to the wall.
As the pair approached, the figure grew more and more clear. It was definitely a man, advanced in years if Link's initial assessment of him was correct. He appeared gaunt and emaciated, his skin saggy and drooping overtop of his bones. He had a long, scraggly beard that reached down past his chest, and his matted gray hair clung to his cheeks. He wore a tattered tunic full of holes and tears, and covered in what appeared to be blood. He was slumped forward, almost motionless. Link could just barely hear him breathing softly, the only indication that the man was even alive.
For someone who was supposedly the most dangerous criminal in Hyrule, this man looked almost harmless.
Link cleared his throat. "Zota of Faron," he said gruffly, tightening his grip on his sword. His voice echoed loudly off the cold stone walls.
The prisoner chuckled under his breath. "We meet at last, Lord Hero."
Zota's voice was thin and raspy, and Link was unsure whether that was due to the prison air or the man's old age. He looked so feeble and frail that Link thought it a wonder that this man was responsible for the death and destruction of so many Hyrulean citizens.
"Your reputation proceeds you, Zota."
"As does yours, m'Lord." Zota laughed again, this time a bit more audibly. "I have heard all of the rumors and legends surrounding you. Tell me, is the blade of your sword really stained with the blood of Zora children?"
Link grit his teeth. "It seems that we both have plenty of rumors surrounding us." He took a step towards Zota. "Your Zealots burned down three villages today and slew hundreds of their inhabitants. To what end?"
Zota drew a deep breath and coughed loudly. "The commoners of these lands grow more tired and more hungry every passing day while your Queen stands by and watches. My people are simply a tool for progress, to give the common men a way to rise up and take back what is rightfully theirs."
"But at the expense of so many innocent lives?"
"My dear boy," Zota cooed, "sacrifices must always be made for the sake of progress. Surely you would know this better than anybody?"
Link ignored the taunt, clenching his hand into a tight fist. "The slaughter of innocent blood goes far beyond mere sacrifice, Zota. You are a monster."
Zota laughed harder than he had the whole conversation, a shrill screech that rang through the cell. The torch's light flickered rapidly and Link swore for a moment the air grew even chillier. "It certainly takes one to know one, Hero. We Zealots have not forgotten what you really are."
Link breathed deeply and forced himself to remain calm. "Your trial for your crimes will begin at sunup. I suggest that you get whatever affairs you have in order."
Zota chuckled. "My fate was decided long ago by the Goddesses. I am but a vessel of Their will." He lifted his head to meet Link's gaze. "Know that my people and our cause will far outlive me. Every day our numbers grow, our influence strengthens. We will not be denied. Even in death, we arise."
Link turned his back on Zota and left the cell, the Captain following closely behind. When they had finally ascended the staircase back up to the castle proper, Link addressed the Captain once again.
"Do you really think that the zealots are as powerful as he claimed?"
The Captain shrugged. "I am unsure, m'Lord. It is true that their numbers have seen a sharp increase since the end of the Shadow Wars, but I am uncertain how the custody of their leader will impact their support moving forward."
Link sighed. "Then we had best be on our guard." He nodded to the soldier. "Thank you for your company, Captain. You are dismissed."
The Captain saluted to Link before turning and walking away.
The conversation with Zota had proved to be entirely unproductive. The man spoke in vague riddles, and seemed to dodge every statement or question Link hurled at him.
Still, one thing bothered him deeply about what Zota had said.
We Zealots have not forgotten what you really are.
Forcing the thought from his mind, Link decided that he had had enough commotion for one evening. The hour was late, and the Queen was likely preparing for bed. Now that his meeting with Zota was over, it was time for him to return to stand guard at her chambers.
Without another word, Link walked away from the dungeon, his hand never once leaving the hilt of his sword.