In the land of never-ending darkness where the Golden Power had lain captured and scourged, did the Hero come forth—sword of evil's bane in hand—thrusting it into the Great King of Evil. Made to be vanquished and torn asunder, the Great King of Evil with his last vile breath, said unto he with a scornful mirth.
"Hearken to me, Hero! For seven hundred years have I ruled this sacred land, shaped it as I have and turned its golden fields to be as dark; and to this very place I have come and at last met my end. The Golden Power, ever-fleeting, has thus forsaken me. The day is yours, as is the Power, yet when time proves my champion, and your line is all but ended and your heroic memory made forgotten, I will cast a shadow over to envelop both these lands in my darkness hence!"
And that was the fear of many a mortal.
A look came slowly over the Hero's face then, as if he could pity evil's passing, as its very being and shape, ever monstrous, crumbled away into smoke and ash. With a great lament, the Hero wrenched his vaunted blade downward toward the nave to eviscerate his foe, and starlight and mist poured from the jagged crevice left in its wake. There was a terrible wail, and a great boom. A huge sceptre of ash-white bone fell, as the twisted hand which gripped it fragmented and perished into a thousand particles colourless and distant. A bloodened crown of evil—never to be borne by man nor creature of the lands we know—tumbled to the wayside to rest solemnly. And a wretched cloak billowed in a gust of torrid wind as the Hero stood triumphant, with the sword of evil's bane gleaming by his side in the plum-coloured light, shimmering low sun in the distance an insurmountable barrier between they and twilight.
And thus passed Ganon, the Great King of Evil, who once held the lands we know by the throat. But when the Hero, with his sword sheathed to sleep once more, looked up at the strange skies again, he realized the realm was still warped in its perverse way. He had naught to say to the beast, or man, or demigod—or whatever the Evil King had been—as he lived and stirred his foul magic and runes. Now, at the end of all troubles, nearing his triumph ever more, he felt numerous emotions well up within, and none so easily conveyed to the ghosts pervading the world of darkness and the beasts which dwelled there. He was alone now, and with that in mind, he felt little joy in his triumphant victory.
As the sun descended behind the Hero, he looked up at the distant mountains a final time to see the Evil King's vacant tower cresting above its malformed peaks. He thought of how it needn't persist any further, and he thought of fairest Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, and how she would finally return to her own seat of power once again in the lands we know. Such untimely thoughts came to him now, thoughts which beckoned him into a deeper reflection of his arduous journey now laid bare before him.
Know then the Hero of the lands we know; he who called himself Link, whose noble name was never forgotten as the great evil surmised, who unseated the utmost wickedness from the thrones of two worlds. Such is the purpose of these writings; to paint an indelible song upon a canvass, to speak a tale weaved from the lips of the dead long since unremembered, and to share the memories of a mortal mind distantly perished.
And so the Hero strode through the ancient passageway and into a chamber said only to be most holy. Little is known what transpired there, besides what is inscribed in the Book of Mudora. But in the lands we know, it is said the Hero touched the Golden Power and spoke his good wish to restore our lands to harmony as it is today. Deep and everlasting was the enchantment which turned the world of darkness to breathe light anew. The very earth below shook, and the lilac heavens above tore open to a peeling light of numerous colours. The deserts turned to meadows; rivers stilled by unholy forces flowed true; from the desolate soil sprouted endless fields of green and flower; and the very mountains crumbled into something more beautiful like the lands we know. And the Great Pyramid of Power, once an everlasting throne for the mighty Golden Power, ascended back to its rightful place above all else. Then the craven beasts and fell creatures of corruption, of who stayed shrouded in dark for an eternity, finally emerged from the caverns and basked in the new light. It was there in that holy light of the Golden Power, as it twinkled and blanketed the land in its shining luminescence, where all things good took shape again.
It was shortly after the Hero bade farewell to the Golden Power, returning hence to the lands we know, and again peace would reign in that hallowed place for all time. A land which forever knew darkness would now only know of light, and all which perpetuated it. Such was the wish of the Hero.
The Great King of Evil was cast down and obliterated, and all his works undone, truer the same in the Golden Land and lands we know. His dark runes, once powerful and domineering, now ceased their evil doings. The just and rightful King was resurrected, and by the good grace of the Golden Power was the land of Hyrule to be kept safe forevermore.
Yet when the Hero returned to Hyrule Castle to appear before the King and his stately advisors, he was justly known to be taken aback. Seven wise men dressed and robed in royalty with white-haired beards long to the floor addressed him, and then finally the King himself.
And thus the King said.
"For seven hundred years the chiefs of our kingdom have foretold of your coming; and here you stand before us bearing the sword of evil's bane, garbed as the Hero was before our time, and beautiful as he was told to be. And yet, with evil vanquished and the order of the world restored, our truest peace—cheaply bought—has ill yet been achieved."
The Hero stayed silent. The advisors stirred, as did their spokesman.
"The line of heroes must not ever be broken," they said.
"So it shan't," said the King. "Blessed be mine own daughter who loves you."
"What would you bid me do?" asked the Hero.
And the spokesman said: "To wed the King of Hyrule's daughter."
The young Hero thought of her beauty then, and her crown of gold and silver, encrusted by the brightest jewels of the lands we know, and the joyous sound of her sweetest voice and the fabulous nature of her being. Song throughout the land forespoke of her serenity, and painted her wondrous face upon a canvass of smoothest silk. And lo, had he met her before, seen her there in his dreams. Often was she there, ethereal and gentle on the fringes of his mind. Her name was Zelda, and she was the princess of this land, of a magical line descended from an ancient age of royalty.
The gods had christened her with their perfection, and the faeries enchanted upon her a mystical allure no creature of our lands could deny. Beasts and evil doers would be frightened to look upon her, much like the Great King of Evil had done. The softness of her visage spoke wisdom, and the twinkle in her eye taught courage, and in her hand—soon to be a golden sceptre—was power.
"Our people demand the line of heroes continue until time come ancient and unending," the King then said, "and only then if the Evil King returns, will the land—the very dearest world as we know—be kept safe, and secure. Be it a boon upon you my Hero, I say! Or keep it all within the honour and courage of your blood and bone. It may be a better part of wisdom that I grant you the unity of mine own flesh and blood to that of yours. Go then, and love her, as you love the land you made safe from the clutches of evil. This I, the King of beautiful Hyrule and chief defender of the Golden Land, command and decree! No, this, my dearest Hero, I can only beg of you."
Then the King raised his hand to bless the Hero, held out his aged fist, bejewelled by the royal signet of his forefathers, and bade him come, saying: "This ring shall you place your most exalted lips upon, and thenceforth, the blood of the Hero shall be the blood of Hyrule."
And the young Hero, though pensive and thoughtful, stepped forward and knelt before the King. It was there he took his knuckled hand in his own and carefully placed his lips upon the royal seal of the Hylia.
It was later that night, after the Hero polished the sword of evil's bane—if its glimmering and magical steel ever required it—and was bathed by the kingly bed servants, when he dressed down for supper to attend a feast for their joyous union. Beforehand, he had dwelled in the gardens, where the glory of Hyrule Castle's lawns and many pleasantries became apparent to him. Imagine the lands we know yet captured in time in the most serene of scenes, with the glittering pale waxing moon above shining its reflection onto the marbled fountains of glory, bordered by many flowers and fields of green lashed by a long pale light; undisturbed and unmolested by the toils of man nor the machinations of evil. Envision a place where birds never sleep, and where the harshness of the lands we know scarcely makes it presence known.
It was there he saw her for the first time since his return to this land.
Nearing the beauty of these gardens, the Hero stood gazing at the princess who unwittingly owed him her very life, surrounded by the sprinkling fountains and sitting upon a wood-carved bench beneath an arbour. She seemed otherworldly like that; and he said nothing, only gazed at her from afar and with a lamenting frown beneath weary brows. He needn't approach her now, just capture her essence from afar as he would a stranger in a distant memory's shadow out of the past. The many stars in the night sky seemed to twinkle just for her, and the moonlight cast its beacon on her to reflect upon her crown seemingly to be carved of gold and gleaming rubies; and she shone there on those gardens to capture the beauty of the lands we know in one singular spirit. And soon, much time passed without notice as the Hero stood ensnared in the moment, captured by her picturesque scene there on the lawn. He had never before seen her in this new light, incensed up by love and caught in a web of amorous feeling. And he would never see her any other way again.
Trapped by his thoughts, the Hero hadn't realized she was walking toward him now. And sooner he had, he noticed too she walked dazzling to him as if she were gliding across the firmament of green. The air grew heavy then, and he felt suddenly ashamed of what he had been doing, though it was for naught.
And the Princess Zelda looked upon him in her beauty, dressed in a gilded gown and with doe eyes of sapphire beneath her sparkling crown. And then it occurred to him she was smiling.
"I knew it," she said, "knew deepest in my heart of hearts you would come." And in her voice was something of music, though in the lands we know such music does not exist.
And then he said: "It is for you I have come, and for you I shall stay."
Back through the garden pathways trodden by few went the Hero and fairest Zelda, she only stopping seldomly to look upon the fountains and neat greenery of the lawns in twilight, amidst neither castle guard, servant, nor steward of the kitchen of whom toiled endlessly over supper. Theirs was a peaceful quiet, alone in evenfall together.
And they were wordless amongst each other, save her thoughts and dreams shared only in gentle song. Her voice was music enough for the Hero, but the enchanting spell she cast upon the starry night sky, as an enthralling witch might her precious runes, stole him wholly thence from the lands we know. She hummed an untraceable melody echoing the brightness of a distant past unclouded by evil, of a land yet unmade and undone by harbingers of doom. We here dare not attempt to recount its truest nature. But envision a tune carrying a calming spirit mirroring that of the Golden Power—of which this very moment glitters brightly in a realm remade holy—so far removed from the lands we know.
But the Hero had viewed such a place, walked its soil and marbled pathways, much like as the Princess Zelda herself. They, like the shadows turned to light, were saved, and made whole by its shining providence and wisdom. Even now, under the swathing fabric of the darkest skies above the lands we know, the Power shines across realms a brightness in the starlight; a beacon no witch nor wizard can conjure, with all their learned spells and crafts of mysticism.
In those days of his quest, the Hero learned indeed the touch of evil, and how it could undo one's mind, ever-fragile. He discovered greed, a lust for power, and dominance over the weak. He met and battled against several vices we need not recount. Yet there was ever the Princess and her undying belief in his overcoming of such cruelties. Even when all hope had fled from his courage, her steadfast faith stayed him true to the detriment of all things terrible. Such lovely music now beggared him to think thusly so, capturing the very being of his heart. And it was there too, in the reverent sparkle of her majestic robes, seldom seen by the people of the lands we know, and more still in her very aspect of tenderness one could observe in her every act. She was wholly perfect, the Hero knew then, affirming only what he knew the moment she beckoned him tenderly from within the dreamscape of his sleeping mind.
He briefly turned his eyes from her serene pale beauty back to the lands we know. And there, with his demeanour true at ease, and the hour dipping further into twilight, did the Hero see several knights of the guard standing centre at the entrance of the garden, and a lone figure approaching out of the shadows to step into moonlight. It was Ser Lyonel, the Captain of the Guard.
"My fairest lady and truest Hero, hail," he said in his stern-but-genial voice, and bowed, saying: "I come hither to bid my lady, the Princess, a greatest happiness. And too such joyous tidings of the night's merrymaking. Be it known the good King bade of your audience whence the moon passed the towers to light the dark skies. That moment is come upon us, and so it is time, and I am here."
There was a brief silence while the Princess fixed herself to present appropriately of her station in the eyes of her servants. Closer to her side, the Hero stayed quiet and pensive in the moment, and he saw her turn elegantly, waist-long hair shimmering golden-like in the cast of pale moonlight.
"Good Ser Lyonel," Zelda answered, "nought said in these lands can tell of the greatest peace we have entered into. And well that is so, for my father, our King, has proclaimed these next days numbering many, a time of great marking." She stilled a moment, then covered her breast with her hand, saying, "Our peoples will rejoice, for it is true I am betrothed. And it has been decreed I will soon be wed in holy union before the alter of our gods."
Such joyous tidings for the lands we know! The fair and valiant Ser Lyonel averted his eyes then, placing his own gloved fist over his chest in prayer. "Gods be good!" he cried.
"And the Golden Power too," the Princess added, "for without its blessing, mine own love might have gone unrequited, and our fields and reign to rot. Go now, good ser, and tell my father I will be upon the ancient halls of our wise ancestors on the hour."
"As the Princess commands," he answered kindly.
And with the deepest of bows, Ser Lyonel said his goodbyes, and he, along with his retinue, passed back into shadow and then behind the tall castle walls once more.
When the Hero watched the Princess turn around to face him, he saw there lovely on the soft features of her face, a light blush, and a shy smile. She wound her hands bashfully behind the small of her back and retreated slightly, averting her eyes from the interested gaze of the Hero.
"I hope you will not think us curst," Zelda said, "for it is with much difficulty I bore such joyous news within, ne'er to pass from mine own lips to other minds."
"Never," he replied, "would I dare to think such things."
And he would scarcely believe she uttered such things not only in jest. Then she slowly turned to bring her wide, jewel-shaped eyes back into view. He could feel her uncertainty, see it on her quivering lower lip, and the beleaguered rise of her breast as she inhaled to bid him response.
"Canst you love me now?" asked the Princess. "You mustn't keep yourself in restraint now we are bound, my loving and dearest Hero."
But the Hero made no answer, yet gazed only with a distant longing, one seldom seen from his steely spirit. Then he sighed, taking a singular step toward the Princess. And with a generous bow at the waist, he held out a steady hand for hers to take. In the lands we know, such an honourable gesture is customary, and held in the highest esteem regarding courtship and love. Silent was his solitary vow, and with his blue eyes still astray, one could see the slightest indentation form on the lightly-powdered cheeks of the Princess. She was smiling now, with her greatest of fears abated and forgotten to the secret vaults of eternal memory.
And very soon, she had closed the gap between them, her heart made brave by his solemn declaration of knightly courtship. With a small, pallid hand, did she raise ever slowly to meet his own, and their fingertips touched briefly. The young Hero endured a jolt of lightning then, as if he had been struck in cowardice from behind. He tensed up, as her playful-yet-timid fingers skittered across his own to find the welcoming ingress of his palm. Her hand was noticeably cold, even though the warm midsummer air filled the gardens now. With a slight hesitation, he raised his bowed head briefly to look upon the Princess. And there—beautifully, we might add—he saw in front of him on the nebulous borders of twilight, two large eyes of sapphire beneath a startled brow of gold, and a gentle hand raised to her reddening cheek.
So the Hero and Princess embraced suddenly, as two long separated lovers might, and then crept into darkness, becoming one with the shadows beneath a myrtle tree by the well. And it was there they stayed until the end of the hour. We, who recount now of their union, of their much-celebrated love for the lands we know and each other, shall elaborate no further. It is not our purpose or design to describe such things. Know thusly there came no tryst from this union, nor scandal—for such a courting had been orchestrated by the good King and his parliament. And later still, after the Princess and the Hero returned in body and spirit to the lands we know, they found themselves traversing the hallowed halls of the Hylia, beneath countless portraits, relics, and paintings of kingdom's distant and ever-majestic. There, they came upon two knights who clanged on the great ivory doors which shut the entrance to the Great Hall of the Hylia, and through them they entered into a grand room of which only song may tell. And lined up along the immeasurably long tables were dignitaries and courtiers from across the lands we know. Seated at the forefront of all were the seven wise men of the parliament, and on the dais was the good King himself. The heralds trumpeted a magnificent song as they impressed upon the spectacle. And the Hero walked the Princess Zelda's hand high in escort through the centre aisle, to the joyous cheer of many. Marching to the step of drums, guardsmen and knight alike unsheathed their swords to form a bridge for the two dignitaries to walk under, and sheathed them whence they passed. The King saw his daughter there escorted on the long red rug, and smiled knowingly, seeing her most joyous emotions nigh uncountable shifting there on her young face. And some say the King wept then, wept from happiness for his land, and for the merriment of his daughter. For these were such the times of peace in beautiful Hyrule, and in the lands we know, such a peace beget tears of joy.
Then the Hero and Princess Zelda took their rightful seats at the centre of the longest and grandest of tables in the Great Hall, beneath sparkling chandeliers, ornaments, and decor alike. And suddenly, the King raised his hand to sit and silence the merry crowd. He then unfurled a piece of parchment which dangled long to the floor.
And thus the King said with his booming voice.
"It is with great gladness—gladness and joy—that I, the King of Hyrule and chief defender of the Golden Land, hereby command and decree that my only daughter, the Princess Zelda of beautiful Hyrule, from this very day henceforth be betrothed to the brave Hero, of whom vanquished the great evil from the lands we love! Rejoice for this union, I say! For it is an union not only of great wisdom, I feel, but ever love the same! The courageous blood of the Hero flows through his very veins, and so thus will it flow through the blood of Hyrule, for all time!"
And then he sighed, and furled the long piece of parchment back up, having read only a portion of its ruling. Sooner still, the Great Hall had taken up an even greater silence. The young Hero and beautiful Princess stirred little, and a sorrow even welled up within the King in that moment, as if the very essence of it floated about the hall to choke him. Yet he was sooner mistaken in his abject belief, as the hall shook immense with the sound and thunder of many as they cheered and smacked their silver-plated mugs of drink upon the tables, to the detriment of any who slumbered throughout the castle—if any did at all—in that moment.
Then the Hero—ever the stuff of legend—took the Princess Zelda's hand in his own and arose from his seat of honour, unsheathing the sword of evil's bane to point its glimmering and glowing blade to the high ceilings above. In the lands we know, it is said he smiled triumphantly in that moment.
And Zelda herself could do naught but bow her head, eyes shuttered from immense gratitude to her most gracious people of Hyrule. She wept in that moment, weeping tears of the sheerest joy. And all the halls of Hyrule Castle shuddered, as the wandering winds straying through the mountains in the distance will tremble the wispy leaves of the forest below; and the many peoples of the realm felt something wonderful in their hearts then like the creation of a new song.
Thus beautiful Hyrule entered a golden chapter of celebration, as word spread swiftly throughout the lands we know commencing their wonderful union.