At the same time the forest was witnessing its oldest and wisest patriarch falling to madness, the first ripples of the coming calamity reached the bustling metropolis of Hyrule Castle Town though only one of its denizens was sensitive enough to receive it.

Princess Zelda sat in a school desk, rigid in its design. In fact, the entire curriculum to which she was subject was rigid, designed no doubt to help her focus but only served the opposite effect. They had her placed directly in the path of a sunbeam that streamed through a nearby window, making her uncomfortably warm. She tried to alleviate it by adjusting her collar and fanning herself though it did little good. Her suffering was made all the worse by the pompous drone of her tutor Lady Maddel, who was instructing her in one of the most boring topics in their books: commercial law.

"...in the seventh month when Hyrule's Harvest Tax Laws come into effect; for if the total weight of Ordon's crop, which includes but is not limited to: pumpkins, onions, carrots, cucumbers, zucchini, potatoes, etc. exceeds fifty tons then a fifteen percent tax shall be imposed on the aformentioned 'crop' to be collected on the final day of the harvest market, which is agreed by all relevant parties to be on the twenty-sixth day of the seventh month..."

Zelda felt herself nodding off and quickly pinched herself to refocus. Unfortunately, this didn't escape the attention of Lady Maddel, who shot her a stern look before continuing. Her stomach sank and she resisted the urge to groan in despair. Her father was going to hear about this.

She tried her best, she really did, but there were moments when she couldn't help but wonder if knowing whether Sarin Village or Middon Village should decide fair price for carrots was really necessary to ruling Hyrule. It wasn't as if she actively disrupted these lessons; she did enjoy learning Hyrule history, particularly the wars that often occurred as a result of a foreign nation coveting their national treasure, the Triforce. Yet it seemed she always managed to find a way to upset her tutors, driving them to her father to complain about her attentiveness. Could she really help that these topics were dull? If she were allowed to do things like move her desk somewhere shadier, stand up and walk around every fifteen minutes, or even if they let her change into something less stuffy than this circus tent she had to wear, she'd be able to focus better.

Oh, but what was the use? She had no say in anything. She was only a princess, and a princess had to do what was expected of her, no exceptions. Learning tedious legal work was one of the many things expected of her, and once she had learned it all, using that knowledge to rule the kingdom was what was expected of her. It was her duty as a princess, the only child of King Bernard Fredrickson Hyrule.

Oh, how she wish she hadn't been born a princess! How she wished she could be free from all this and go on adventures instead; take part in the Hyrule wars and defend the Triforce against villains who would use it for wicked ends. Wield a sword or a bow and slay monsters. Sail across the ocean. Meet new people...

Gradually, her tutor's voice became distant as she was carried away by her own longing. Then her awareness shifted, taking her somewhere she had never been before.

She stood alone in the center of a field. To her right rose dunes of red sand and to her left was a dense thicket of green trees. It took her a moment to realize that this was more than an idle daydream. She could feel the earth beneath her feet and the cool breeze playing across her face.

"Where am I?"

It wasn't long before she was aware of something happening. Across the sand dunes, a storm billowed and turned the sky red. Slowly at first but getting faster and faster, it blew across the sand, drawing closer to the field where she stood. As she watched, she realized she could see a massive shape forming in the clouds. It was never still but as the shape twisted itself, she caught glimpses of a wild mane, a long tusk, a massive paw with blunt claws, and it was rapidly getting closer. She suddenly became afraid. What would happen to her if that storm caught up to her?

Then she turned to her left. The trees rustled though not as one would expect from the tugging of wind. It was as though they were living creatures, all turning to each other for counsel, debating, arguing, and gesturing toward the coming storm. Did they have a plan? Could they stop whatever it was that was coming? She hoped so. She hoped that whatever their debate was it would save her from the beast.

Then something emerged from the trees. She thought it was a walking shrub at first, being as green as the trees it had come, but then she saw smooth white arms and legs and the face beneath the green on its head. A human face. The face of a boy. In his left hand, he wielded a sword and in his right a shield. Above his shoulder hovered what appeared to be a lightning bug... no, a smaller human with wings... a fairy. It was a boy and a fairy.

The boy looked up at the coming storm and raised his sword in defiance. Then he looked down and locked eyes with her. His mouth moved though no sound came out and he raised his shield, gesturing to her to come to him. He would protect her but she had to hurry. The storm was coming!

She took a step toward him and stumbled. She felt as though she had stepped into quicksand. She looked up and saw the boy waving his shield again, gesturing more urgently for her to come to him. She lifted her other leg but fell when her first leg refused to support her. She jarred her elbows when she caught herself on the ground, and she barely refrained from crying out. She looked up again to see the boy still waving his shield. She began to crawl though the skirt of her dress bound her legs, preventing her from moving them properly. She fell onto her face, getting a mouthful of dirt.

She heard the wind roaring behind her, getting louder and more shrill with every passing moment. She used her arms to drag her belly across the ground like a rope, which was painstaking and slow. She reached out an arm to the boy and yelled out a plea though no sound ever came out of her mouth. He seemed to stretch away from her, getting farther and farther away. She tried crawling again but her strength was gone and all she could do was rock in place on her arms. A sob escaped her. The howling wind was on top of her.

She was picked up and turned upside down. The wind screamed in her ears and the dirt clawed at her eyes as she was tossed about like a rag doll. She tried to scream and flailed her arms in a desperate attempt to catch herself as she felt the ground rushing up to meet her.

She sat bolt upright with a drawn out gasp, startling her tutor. Lady Maddel snapped, "My word, Princess Zelda! I know you find these lessons less than riveting but to fall asleep in the middle of..." Then she spotted the princess's expression and her tone changed to concern, "Milady, what ever is wrong?"

"I don't feel well," Zelda gasped, her chest ballooning desperately. Her face was pale and she felt lightheaded.

Lady Maddel stressed the pointer in her hands fretfully. "Well, I don't suppose it does any good to keep you here when you're so obviously out of sorts. Very well, we'll conclude the lesson for today. I shall tell your father the situation."

"Thank you, Lady Maddel. I appreciate that." Without further ado, she stood up and walked out of the classroom. She immediately turned down the collonade that led outside to the garden. Some fresh air, that was all she needed.

She hadn't gone very far when a voice spoke, "Taking a break from our lessons, are we?"

"Eeep!" Zelda shrieked with a jump. It was her retainer, Impa, who had spoken. She was a Sheikah-a group of people who had been sworn to aid and protect the Royal Family of Hyrule through various means. Their specialty was covert operations, working in the shadows using a combination of stealth and subterfuge, thus Impa was in the habit of appearing without warning, often startling those she came into contact with. Zelda, however, having been under her care since birth, was well used to her stealthy methods and so for this reason Impa immediately frowned and asked, "Milady, is there something wrong?"

Zelda gulped in air as if she were drowning, yet she shook her head and answered,"You only frightened me. That's all."

"Milady," said Impa in a voice that was almost stern, "you're as pale as death and you tremble as if you've seen a ghost. What is it?"

"Nothing," said the Princess stubbornly. "I just... don't feel well, that's all." She placed a hand to her forehead in demonstration.

For a long time, the Sheikah gave her a hard stare, scrutinizing her. Zelda stared back, remembering too late that her retainer was well versed in prying the truth from suspects and prisoners of war. She meanwhile was using every bit of strength she had just to stay on her feet. This contest between them seemed to stretch into hours in which Zelda feared she would soon collapse, but at last, Impa said, "Very well then. If that is all it is, then I suggest you go up to your bedchambers and get some rest."

"I will," said Zelda. "I just want to walk in the gardens first."

As concerned as Impa was for the Princess's health, she had no direct authority over her and her other duties compelled her, so she let her go. Princess Zelda went straight to the gardens and took a seat on one of the benches there. Surrounded by the soothing scents of the roses and the rustling of leaves by a gentle breeze, she did what she always did when she needed to stop and think: she pulled out her ocarina and began to play her favorite song-a simple soothing melody that Impa used to play for her to lull her to sleep when she was younger.

She refused to admit even to herself that the dream had frightened her; that in fact it had shaken her to the very marrow of her bones. It recalled to her mind the times when she was a child wakened by nightmares and she would run to her father for assurance and comfort. He had been patient then, but she was no longer a child. She recognized now that he had far too many important duties to indulge in all her petty needs. Besides, if she could not handle a few bad dreams on her own, how could she expect to run a kingdom?

Such was her reasoning, but alas, had she recognized the nightmare for the portent that it was and confided in those whose care she was entrusted, the events that followed might have turned out differently.