Some people are born to make history; others merely fade into obscurity over time.
This is the story—the memory—of one of those lives that wasn't worth remembering, one hundred years later. The life of an old friend that never was a champion, nor child of destiny of any sort.
But sometimes, in the grand scheme of things, the most seemingly insignificant people can have very significant effects on the course of history.
It started when he turned sixteen.
Each year, the new military recruits at Hyrule Castle traveled North through Minshi Woods, past the Military Training Camp they'd graduated from, and all the way to the Lost Woods. Each soldier attempted to find their way through the woods, searching for the legendary blade that seals the darkness: The Master Sword. No one had seen the blade since it was last used to combat Ganon, ten thousand years ago. It was considered a blessing that no one had been able to find it recently, as that indicated the inevitable resurrection of Ganon was not yet underway.
Traditionally, no one under the age of sixteen was recruited as a soldier. Incidentally, this was also the age documented in legends that was considered to be the age requirement for the hero to wield the Master Sword. Stories told of a hero, too young, who pulled the sword from the pedestal, and was put in a sacred slumber until he was old enough. However, Link had been an exception to the military age requirement; his talent with a blade was truly impressive. He surpassed many of the older more experienced men in technique alone, defeating them in combat easily. As a result, the head of the guard had made an allowance for him, despite his age.
Link had just turned sixteen, so it had been his turn to go to the lost woods.
Link remembered little of the trip there, it was hardly worth mentioning when compared to his return to the castle; Master Sword on his back and the weight of the world on his shoulders. The wide-eyed stares he received riding through Castle Town stuck with him, even after he'd dismounted and passed his horse off to one of the royal stable hands while senior guardsmen ushered him to the throne room, intent to inform the king as quickly as possible.
Link remembered kneeling in front of King Rhoam, feeling the eyes of the king and every royal guard in the room—including his father—stare at the sword on his back in a mixture of awe and dread.
The King spoke as he always did; collected and deliberate. But Link could hear the smallest hint of worry creep its way into his voice.
"It would seem the return of Ganon is closer than we initially believed. That is…unfortunate, but not entirely unexpected."
The King paused to recollect his thoughts, and Link chanced a quick glance at his father. He was standing with his back to the wall on the right side of the room, clad in the Royal Guard uniform. Their gazes met for a brief second before his father's eyes narrowed. Link could almost hear his father's voice in his head, reprimanding him, "Be respectful, put your head down!"
Link quickly redirected his gaze to the floor once again.
"Tonight, you may leave." The King's words came as a surprise, "Go home and prepare; collect your things, inform your family, and then return. You have three weeks."
Three weeks…Hateno was quite a long way from Hyrule Castle; three weeks would give him just enough time to get there and come back. Still, Link felt he should be grateful; the King was being gracious enough to allow him a trip home to see his mother, a trip that would take time—something that was of utmost importance.
In reality, King Rhoam was praying that the extra time would be enough for his daughter, Princess Zelda, to access her sealing powers.
The journey to Hateno was long, but mostly uneventful. Link had wrapped the sheath of the master sword in cloth to hide it, so no one he came across on the road knew who he was. His father came too, at the behest of The King. His father behaved the way he always did; giving no acknowledgment to his son's achievement of claiming the legendary blade, even when they set up camp for the night, utterly alone. By the time they arrived home, they were both weary from travel, and Link was exceptionally relieved to be home again.
Truthfully told, training to become a knight hadn't been Link's idea; it'd been his father's. His father was part of the Royal Guard, something he was quite proud of, and spent many years training to achieve that status since he was young. He fully expected his son to do the same.
If someone had asked Link—and no one ever did—what is was he liked to do, he would've said a variety of things; he liked cooking, and then eating what he cooked, he liked riding his horse, climbing trees to pick apples for his horse, swimming and fishing, and he liked helping out the other villagers with their day-to-day life. He liked delivering the milk from the dairy farm up on the hill to the shop in town so the old farmer didn't have to walk all that way (the farmer was always so grateful, and gave Link a couple bottles of free milk for the trouble), he liked collecting colorful mushrooms from Ginner Woods for the Dye Shop owner to use, and catching frogs for the village children (the frogs were slimy and they slipped out between their nubby little fingers easily. Link was better at catching them.)
Point is, there were a lot of things Link liked to do.
Fighting, and training to fight, were not things Link enjoyed.
But something else Link wanted—more than he wanted to pick apples for his horse, or deliver milk—was to make his father happy.
Link found it easy to make his mother happy; he'd help her cook, or compliment her cooking when he didn't. He'd go into town and buy things she needed; fresh ingredients, sewing materials, etc. When he found something around the house that needed done, like the lanterns being low on oil and needing refilled, he'd do it. It seemed that every little thing he did made his mother proud.
Link's father, however, was much more difficult to please. He didn't trust Link's craftsmanship, so he never let him help with repairs around the farm. He didn't approve when Link helped his mother in the kitchen; he thought that was women's work.
The one thing Link could do that made his father happy, was practice swordsmanship.
The few times Link could remember his father praising him, had been when he held a sword in his hand.
A specific memory, one from when he was quite young, came to mind. Link had been playing in the back yard, brandishing a tree branch like a sword, as little boys often did, when his father had returned home from Hyrule Castle. His father watched him play for a bit before Link noticed him. When he did, Link tossed the stick aside and ran to him, hugging his leg, happy that his dad was home.
His father had set down his equipment and ruffled his hair affectionately; commenting on how someday, Link would be a knight, too.
Innocent blue eyes had looked up at the man that day, filled with a sudden determination.
If becoming a knight would make his father happy, then Link would become a knight.
Sadly, the more he dedicated himself to becoming a knight, the less time he had to do the things he liked. Whenever he was allowed home, he still spent every waking moment training; practicing his swordsmanship, archery, and dodging imaginary attacks. When his father was home too, they sparred. At the end of the day, Link was too tired to catch frogs for the village kids (most of them had gone to bed by then anyway), and it was too dark to go collect mushrooms in the forest. His horse would have to settle for a pat on the neck to go along with her dinner of oats because Link didn't have the energy to pick apples after ten hours of swordsmanship training.
When the old dairy farmer offered him a job milking cows, Link had to politely decline because his job wasn't in Hateno on a farm; it was at Hyrule Castle following a strict training regimen designed to prepare Hyrule's forces to combat Ganon.
That night, they were eating dinner together as a family. Link's mother had been overjoyed by the unexpected visit from both her husband and son; and immediately set to work cooking after pulling Link into a hug, cooing about how her "little baby was all grown up." To celebrate their return, she'd made stew; one of Link's and his father's favorite foods.
Ordinarily, when his mother doted on him like that, Link found it embarrassing and tried gently—often unsuccessfully—to make her stop. This time, he did nothing of the sort; hugging her close and feeling uncharacteristically sad when she pulled away.
As they ate, his mother chatted with them, sharing lighthearted tales about village happenings while they were away; things almost felt normal.
Then his father told her; about the sword, the calamity, and Link's destiny.
All at once the house fell silent. The crickets chirping outside, the fire crackling in the woodstove, the wolves yipping in the distance as the sun fell below the horizon; all of those sounds were muted by the heavy, dreadful silence that followed Link's father's words.
Link forced himself to swallow his last bite of stew, suddenly feeling ill.
When Link looked across the table at his mother, he was horrified to discover she was crying; tears silently running down her face. He felt a bizarre urge to apologize; for what, he wasn't sure.
Then, she smiled sadly at him and said, "I always knew you were special. You can do this, Link, I know you can."
Her encouragement made him feel a bit better, but he couldn't help the words that spilled out of his mouth;
"But what if I can't?" He asked her, eyes wide.
The house was silent once more, but not for long because Link had more to say.
"What if I can't do it? I have the Master Sword, but the Princess doesn't have her sealing powers."
He knew about the Princess's situation—of course he did—all of Hyrule knew about Princess Zelda's inability to access the sealing power passed down through the royal bloodline. He also knew from the legends that it was the Princess of Destiny who was responsible for sealing Ganon away once the hero weakened him in battle.
What good would fighting Ganon do if the Princess couldn't seal him away?
Finally, Link admitted, "I'm ...scared."
His father was the first to answer him, speaking in a firm, commanding tone, "Link. You are the hero of courage, chosen by the Goddess herself to wield the Master Sword."
It was what he said next that would stick with Link for the rest of his life.
"You're not allowed to be scared."
Link froze, the meaning of the words sinking in.
His mother said something—angry, directed at his father, maybe—but Link didn't hear her; lost in his own thoughts.
The Goddess Hylia herself had chosen him—blessed him with courage, decided he was worth of wielding the Master Sword—to protect Hyrule. All of Hyrule; from the Rito in Hebra to the Zora in Lanayru—Mipha and her little brother, Sidon—his family, the village kids, the old dairy farmer down the road; everyone was counting on him.
Link steeled himself. His father was right, he needed to be brave, for everyone's sake.
He had to be; there was no other choice.