"That'll be thirty rupees, miss."

Zelda sighed as she reluctantly fished out some rupees, handing the money over to the storekeeper in exchange for a single loaf of bread. She vaguely remembered an earlier time, when she was only a young child, when the same amount of bread would have been readily available for five rupees. Still, times were hard, and she supposed everyone had to make a living.

She examined the shopkeeper out of the corner of her eyes, noting his haggard expression, the tired circles beneath his eyes, the layer of dirt that caked his skin. Compared to him, she felt that she really had little to complain about: at least she was fortunate enough to have food on the table every day, and bathe regularly.

The man must have caught her staring, because he asked, slightly aggressively, what else she wanted.

"Just…" Zelda's eyes roamed the store, finding a small jar of honey on the counter, and picked it up quickly. "How much is this?"

"Ten rupees," the man grunted roughly. She gave him a red rupee, worth twenty green ones, and quietly slipped away before he could acknowledge the deal that had just transpired.

Outside of the baker's shop, things were not much better. Masses of poor, downtrodden, desperate peasants pedaled their wares on every corner and street. Castle Town, once Hyrule's thriving capital city, was now nothing more than a glorified slum. The stench of filth and animal feces pervaded the market like a plague, and the fat rats that roamed the streets were often hunted by desperate citizens for an evening meal.

Zelda had never actually known the market to be any different, but growing up, she had heard many tales from Impa about the "Golden Age" of Hyrule that had occurred many years before her birth. Now, looking at the poverty that overwhelmed the majority of Hyrule's population, Zelda doubted the veracity of Impa's claims.

Still, she thought, one day things will be better. The Goddesses protect.

Zelda wrapped her cloak tightly around her body in an attempt to ward off the chill that had arrived with the onset of autumn. Many of the town's citizens were not even fortunate enough to have anything other than rags to wear. She shivered, not from the cold, and decided to head back home early. Trips to the market gave her a sense of freedom, but also made her feel profoundly self-conscious: in the midst of such poverty, she was clothed and fed well, and she felt like an outsider. Everywhere she went, eyes followed her, silently begging for a crumb of bread or a single rupee. Guiltily, she could never stop herself from giving out any extra money she had leftover. They needed it more than she, anyways, and the crushing poverty was not their fault: no, the entire downtrodden state of Hyrule could be easily and accurately blamed on Ganondorf, the king of the land and the source of Hyrule's woes.

Still, only the foolish or exceptionally courageous dared voice their discontent aloud, and both ended their lives in the same way: screaming for mercy on Ganondorf's torture racks. Ganondorf's spies and minions were everywhere, always keeping a dutiful watch on the populace for any dissenting behavior. Any potential rebels were quickly and efficiently disposed of. Zelda had heard rumors of a sect of elite warrior women that reported solely to Ganondorf: the infamous Gerudo, responsible for assassinating those who dared oppose their lord. It was said that they struck from the shadows, leaving nothing in their wake but the bloodied corpse of their target.

But while the Gerudo were only whispered of in secret, Ganondorf had other visible signs of his rule to cement his authority. Guards under his employ were everywhere, patrolling incessantly through the streets, watching each door, every alley. Not all of the guards were evil – many joined simply to provide food and a source of revenue for their families – but there was no denying that many of Ganondorf's soldiers were ruthless. Impa had always told Zelda to return to the manor before nightfall, and to never venture alone if she could help it. Ganondorf's men were a step above the law, and were free to abuse the general population in whatever sick manner they pleased.

As Zelda left the oppressive atmosphere of the marketplace, she entered into a series of back alleys that represented the shortest route back to her home. She had navigated the alleys many times before, although usually with another person. As she entered the dingy and dark alleyways, the brief urge to turn back and take the long route home manifested itself in her mind, but she quickly swallowed her fear and willed herself forward.

The alleyways themselves were just as filthy as the marketplace, although comparatively devoid of people. Even Ganondorf's soldiers usually neglected to patrol them, which made the back alleys popular for such illicit activities as gambling and drinking dens. Zelda actually preferred such hovels to the presence of Ganondorf's troops, but today fortune was not in her favor: her heart sank as she saw a group of soldiers at the end of the alley, obviously on a routine patrol.

For a brief moment, she contemplated turning and swiftly walking away, but that would look too suspicious – as much as her mind cried out in protest, it would be best to continue on her way and not do anything to arouse the guards' suspicion. She bowed her head, staring at the ground as she quickly walked forward, her heart pounding loudly in her ears…

One step… two steps… From the corner of her vision, she could see the pack of soldiers, shuffling through the grime of the alleyway in makeshift armor, clutching an equally mismatched assortment of weapons. They were only several feet away now, and each step took her closer and closer…

Zelda kept her eyes focused on the ground as the soldiers passed by, each second taking an agonizingly long time to transpire. There were five guards, total, but none of them spared her more than a passing glance. She breathed a sigh of relief as she passed the last guard without incident: perhaps the Goddesses were on her side today.

She looked behind, to make sure the soldiers had left the vicinity, before quickly running the rest of the way through the alley. She had no desire to spend another minute in such a place – the next time, she would take the long way home.


Her home was the Hylia Estate, several acres of land on the outskirts of Castle Town. In comparison to the city, the land was quiet, serene, and safe; Zelda always felt a profound sense of relief whenever she returned from her daily errands.

Outside, tending to the gardens as was his custom, was Dampe, the eccentric elderly man that had lived at the Hylia Estate longer than anyone else. He was dressed in clothing caked with mud and dirt: despite being over eighty and mostly deaf, Dampe pursued his duties as groundskeeper with boundless passion.

"Good day, Dampe!" Zelda called, waving to the old man as she entered the estate. He didn't reply, possibly because he hadn't heard her. She smiled and walked on, deciding to leave him to his Deku sprouts.

The Hylia manor was a spacious house, built of sturdy Deku wood and sitting atop a hill that overlooked the estate. It was where Zelda lived, under the care of her benefactor, the aristocrat Aleron Hylia. While she had never known her parents, Aleron had been a friend of her father's, and had taken her under his wing after her parents had died from illness. For the last twenty years of her life, Zelda had lived at the Hylia Estate as something more than a servant but less than a daughter to Aleron – possibly close acquaintances, would be the best way to describe it.

Still, Zelda did not complain: Aleron was a kind man, and without his charity she would not be living in such comfort as she did now. She didn't mind her role of managing the manor's affairs and handling some of the servant's duties – she felt it a fair exchange for the freedom and security she enjoyed. She knew that the servants appreciated Aleron as well: unlike most of the Hylian nobility, Aleron was not a debauched pawn of Ganondorf. Still, he played his role in political affairs cautiously, as it was dangerous even for nobles to suggest sedition against their king.

As Zelda entered the manor, she was accosted almost immediately by Impa, the elderly caretaker of Hylia manor and Zelda's own nursemaid as a child. As Zelda removed her travelling cloak, Impa counted the groceries, rifling through the parcels with practiced ease.

"Hmm… bread, cheese, wine, Deku-nuts…" Impa paused in her perusal of the packages, a momentary frown on her brows. "A bottle of honey? Why did you buy this?"

"Oh," Zelda replied vaguely, waving her hand. "I thought it might come in handy."

"Hmm," Impa only mumbled, obviously seeing through Zelda's lie at once. Impa possessed one of the keenest minds Zelda knew – the elderly caretaker was sharp as a blade, both in wit and tongue, and still possessed of boundless energy despite her age.

"Well, these supplies will provide our supper for the next few days," Impa said curtly, wrapping up all the food and standing up. "How was the market?"

"As it always is," Zelda sighed. "Why would it be any different?"

Impa shrugged. "Was there any trouble?"

"No," Zelda said, thanking the Goddesses that her encounter with the guard patrol had gone without a problem.

"Well, that's always good to hear," Impa nodded. "I'll start preparing dinner. Dampe should be bringing in some fresh herbs and vegetables tonight."

"Is there anything I can do?" Zelda asked, before Impa could turn away. If there was one thing Zelda hated, it was being inactive while everyone else went about their chores.

"Not as such," Impa said, "but Aleron wishes to speak with you."

"He does?" Zelda asked, slightly taken aback.

"He's in the library," Impa affirmed, "he says it's a bit important, so don't keep him waiting."

Obediently, Zelda headed off to the library, which was on the second floor of the manor. As she ascended the grand spiral staircase that led to the library, she felt a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. No, apprehension was a ridiculous word to use – Aleron had always been a kind mentor and benefactor. Although, he was rather distant, and they rarely exchanged more than a few words each day.

Still, she scolded herself, there is nothing to be worried about. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the library doors using the brass knocker. There was a muffled boom, and on the other side of the door, she faintly heard someone tell her to enter.

Delicately, Zelda opened the door and slipped inside the library, immediately noting the different atmosphere. While most of the manor was spacious and drafty, the library had the impression of being stuffy, dank, and even claustrophobic. The tall racks filled with thousands of books were all perched precariously along the walls, like a row of silent guardians.

When she was a young girl, Zelda loved to while away whole swathes of the day in the library, enveloping herself in the dusty novels and tomes that the library had to offer. In those days, she was still possessed of the innocence and wide-eyed wonder that small children had of the world, and she eagerly read tales of knights and chivalry, dragons and sorcerers, and of princesses and their heroes.

Nowadays, to her regret, she had little time to bury herself in books and recreational activities. In fact, she hadn't been in the library for over a year. The entire room felt different to her now, like a strange part of the manor she had never before explored, and her fingers itched to grab a book off the shelves as her eyes slid over the familiar titles and authors.

In the middle of the library, sitting on one of the plush sofas, was Aleron Hylia, the noble of the estate and her benefactor. In his hands was a copy of the Book of Mudora, a hefty volume that described all of Hyrule's history in detail. He appeared thoroughly engrossed in it, and did not notice Zelda at all until she was within several feet of him.

"Oh!" he said, slightly surprised, glancing up from his reading. "Zelda! How are you?"

"Well, Aleron, thanks for asking." She took a seat opposite of him, watching as he carefully marked the page he was reading. "How are you?"

"Splendid," Aleron said, smiling, as he snapped the book shut. "Was just brushing up on some history. Fascinating, it is, all of it! I'm fortunate, very fortunate, to have a copy of the Book of Mudora, for our… king… has put a ban on it, you see?" He offered her a conspiratorial wink.

"I won't tell," Zelda smiled, observing the thin lines on Aleron's face and his graying hair. She had never thought of her benefactor as an elderly man, but now that she saw him up close, she realized that he was approaching his sixtieth birthday. Actually, aside from her, all of the manor's inhabitants were well over their fiftieth years – it struck her as odd that she had never realized it before.

"You haven't been to the library recently, have you Zelda?" Aleron asked, carefully hiding the Book of Mudora amongst countless other texts in the library shelves.

"No," she replied, "I haven't had the time."

Aleron shook his head, returning to his seat. "Shame. I remember you loved reading as a child."

"I still do."

"Well, I'm sure you can take a break from your labors every once in awhile. No need to keep yourself so busy all the time!"

"I need to be active," Zelda said, folding her hands in her lap. "I need to do something."

"Are you a bit restless?" Aleron asked, raising an eye.

"Yes, although I've no idea why." She paused, before adding, "I feel like I should do something to help Hyrule."

"You feel like you should do something to help Hyrule," Aleron repeated, questioningly.

"Have you been to the marketplace, Aleron? It's a pigsty, and the majority of the town's citizens have to live there like animals! And our king doesn't give a damn about them!"

"Yes, well," Aleron said darkly, "there's not much we can do about our king, is there?"

"I suppose not," Zelda murmured bitterly. "There's no chance of overthrowing our king, is there?"

"Dangerous talk," Aleron chided, gripping her arm. "Best not to talk about it, lest…" He trailed off, the obvious threat still lingering in the stuffy air.

Zelda sighed, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "You wanted to talk to me, Aleron?"

"I did," Aleron said, releasing her arm and falling back into the folds of his couch. "Regarding my plans for the next few days."

He sifted through his pockets for several seconds, before withdrawing a slip of paper. "I just received this letter this morning," he said, showing it to her. "It's from Link! You remember Link, don't you?"

Yes, Zelda did know Link. He was Aleron's son, and growing up, had been Zelda's best friend, since there was no one their age living on the estate. She vaguely remembered playing silly games with him, going on picnics, fishing in the pond, heckling Impa – a happy childhood.

Then, Link had become a teenager, and as was the custom for the sons of Hylian nobles, begun training as a knight. For two years, he moved from the manor and lived in the castle barracks, and that was the last Zelda ever saw of her friend – after those two years, Aleron had sent Link to Termina to continue his training under the tutelage of an experienced knight. She hadn't seen Link for seven years.

"Oh," Zelda said, surprised, registering the excited look on Aleron's face. "Well… that is certainly good news!"

"I knew you'd like it," Aleron beamed, folding the letter back in his pocket. "He's just finished his training as a knight, so he'll be returning to live at the manor. Do we have any extra rooms?"

"Yes, of course," Zelda said immediately.

"Good, and how is the stable?"

"It can be cleaned out tomorrow," Zelda replied.

"Excellent," Aleron smiled, standing up from his seat. "All that remains now is to organize a gala."

Zelda blinked, before quickly regaining her composure. "I see. Who shall be invited?"

"I suppose all of the nobility," Aleron mused, "although I'd certainly like to avoid inviting the unsavory characters, I've little choice, what with politics and all. Oh, and I suppose a customary invitation to our king." Aleron frowned, before shrugging. "It's not likely he'll attend, anyways, I'm sure our lord has more important things to attend to than celebrating the return of my son."

"And when shall this ball be held?" Zelda asked, mentally noting everything Aleron said.

"Link should be back in Hyrule within several days," Aleron said, "so let's make it the twenty fifth, hm?"

The twenty fifth. That meant five days before the party. She could manage that. "Very well, Aleron. Is that all you require of me?"

"Yes, thank you, Zelda," Aleron said, vaguely waving her off, obviously lost in happy thoughts of his son.

For Zelda's part, she had mixed feelings. Of course, she and Link had been best friends as children – but seven years was a long time. There was nothing to say that Link would even remember her, much less remain friends with her.

Still, at the moment she had more pressing concerns to worry over than her benefactor's son. Returning to her private quarters, she quickly drew out a quill pen and a bottle of ink, and began to write the invitations, starting with a letter addressed to King Ganondorf.