Chapter 2
Led by King Rhoam and Princess Zelda, the procession of knights entered the Lost Woods. In the rearguard with the other squires, Link and Kester exchanged uneasy glances as they passed through a cleft in the rocks that marked the entrance to the woods.
Almost instantly, the warm orange glow of the setting sun faded from view, only to be replaced by an endless, swirling gray fog above and all around them. But even the fog seemed unnatural, dotted with strange glowing white lights that drifted to and fro despite the fact that there was no wind. Link found his shoulders bumping up against Kester's, as well at the squire's to his right; the three of them had pulled closer together without intending to.
The knights in front of them were walking in near-perfect silence; no talking, just the faint crunch of twigs underfoot, but even that was muffled by the thick fog.
Their torches didn't do much for visibility. There was enough illumination to see the path and the trees that edged it, but that was all. It was mostly pine trees here, with the occasional eerie blue glow at their roots, emanating from silent shrooms thriving in the dark dampness of the woods. And then, up ahead, Link saw a pair of beech trees. They were nearly leafless, although it was still summer. The trees flanked a weathered stone archway that served as a kind of entrance, although there were no cheerful handcarved signs pointing the way as there were throughout the rest of Hyrule.
As King Rhoam and Princess Zelda walked through the arch, leading the way, several crows took flight, cawing hoarsely as they vanished into the fog. Only now did Link realize that the sleepy chirping he had heard a few minutes ago as songbirds headed off to nest in Minshi Woods for the night had now fallen silent. Did anything other than crows even live in the Lost Woods? he wondered. Did the sunlight even penetrate this strange place?
Now the squires were filing through the weathered archway. The moment Link and Kester walked through, something odd happened. There was a rushing sound ahead, as if a swift gust of wind were headed directly toward them, but after a long breathless wait, they felt no movement of air. The slow swirl of fog didn't change. Just the strange rushing sound, and something else. A hollow rattle. Not quite like the sound of dry branches shaking in the wind. More like...
Link suddenly remembered the fireside tale of men turning into skeletal monsters, and felt his eyes go wide. He looked over at Kester, whose eyes were just as wide.
"It's chimes," the squire on Link's right whispered, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself. "Wooden chimes. Someone... someone carved them and hung them up on the trees."
It didn't seem likely to Link. Who would do that? No one lived here. But what else could it be?
Kester didn't attempt to contradict the squire, and neither did Link. There was something about the atmosphere in the woods that tied the tongue. They pressed forward in grim silence.
The path seemed to be heading northwest, although it was hard for Link to be certain with such poor visibility. The moon should be up by now, but he couldn't see its light. Only the torchlight, flickering with a futile orange glow against the banks of fog. The trees bordering the path had changed. No more pine trees. These trees were wide and squat, with crooked bare branches that jagged outward like reaching arms.
What kind of trees were they? Link had never seen anything like them. Many of them had gaping holes in their broad trunks that revealed a great hollowness within, large enough for a person to crouch inside. Had they been damaged by insects or disease? Link spotted one with a couple silent shrooms growing inside its trunk. The blue glow illuminated the hollow space, casting into dark relief the jagged bark at the edges of the hole. It looked almost like the tree had a great big mouth, gaping open with sharp teeth exposed. Kester bravely moved closer to the edge of the path, holding up the torch to see one of the trees more clearly. Link sucked in a breath through his teeth. They looked like they had rough eyes, too! Kester hastily lowered the torch and backed away, bumping up against Link once more.
It was difficult to keep track of the time as they walked through the gray vapor. Had they been in the woods for hours already? It was hard to say.
Much of the time, the dull silence pressed against Link's ears. Once in a while he could hear faint rustles. Animals of some kind? Maybe squirrels? But he saw no fluffy tails frisking about. He stared hard into the darkness between the trees they passed. It took several long minutes, but finally he caught sight of movement. There was definitely something out there. Bigger than a squirrel, he thought. Maybe a fox? They often came out at night.
He stared into the shadows again. After a minute, his heart leaped in his chest as he saw another flash of movement. Green. It was green. Like a plant... only it had moved. He glanced at Kester, but his friend was pointedly keeping his eyes fixed on the backs of the men walking in front of them. Heart thumping but spurred on by curiosity, Link kept a sharp eye on the woods.
Another movement. Another flash of green. It was definitely a plant. Specifically, a leaf. A big one, as big as his own face. And speaking of faces... Had he just seen...
Eyes?
No. It must have been some dark spots on the leaf. Little holes that had been nibbled by insects, maybe.
That didn't explain why the leaf was moving.
The leaf disappeared behind a swirl of fog, but almost immediately Link saw another one nearby. A different shape of leaf. But it also looked like it had eyes, and two horn-like protrusions sticking up above it. It stared at him for a long moment, and the eyes blinked.
"Are you seeing this?" Link whispered, grabbing Kester's arm without taking his eyes off the creature.
"Seeing what?" Kester whispered back.
"The leaves! They have faces."
"What?"
"They're looking at us. Look!"
Link pointed at the leaf-thing. They were so close now that he could even see a little brown nose sticking out beneath the eyes. It looked like the leaf was actually a mask worn over its real face. Kester looked right at it, and then looked at Link in bewilderment.
"You're imagining things," Kester whispered.
The eyes blinked, and then the face backed away and disappeared into the mist.
"It was right in front of you!" Link whispered. "And that wasn't the first one I saw."
"Just-" Kester made an impatient sound. "Link, if there is something like that in here, what makes you think I want to know about it? Leaves with faces?" He shivered. "I hope we're almost there. We've got to be almost there."
Link fell into a confused silence. Kester had sharp eyes, which made him an excellent archer. How could he have missed it? Had Link really imagined such a thing?
He kept up his silent watch, and it wasn't long before he saw another leaf-face. And another. And another. They seemed to be growing less shy. They were climbing up onto rocks and fallen logs, as if trying to look at him as intently as he was trying to look at them. A couple of times he managed to get a glimpse of their little brown bodies beneath their green masks, though they blended into the dark woods well. Gradually, Link allowed his muscles to relax. Whatever they were, they didn't seem dangerous. They just wanted to look.
And there was something almost familiar about them. Something that was tickling the back of his mind.
"I think they're curious," Link whispered to Kester softly. "I think they like us."
Kester moaned softly. "Link, please just stop talking about it!"
Link concentrated fiercely, trying to remember. Where had he seen something like that before? There was something... a faint image. A little house built inside a tree. A familiar, homely place, somewhere he played when he was just a little boy. And there had been other tree-houses too, and other children. Only the children weren't really children at all.
He frowned. The memory, if that's what it was, didn't make any sense. Maybe Kester was right. Maybe he couldn't trust the instinct that was telling him the leaf-faces were safe. His instincts had been wrong before. Once, when he was small, he had been permitted to accompany Father on a trip to the Rito region, and one night sitting beside the campfire he had heard wolves howl for the first time. He'd been fascinated by the sound, and something in him had prompted him to get up and try to move closer. Wanting to see them. Wanting to run about with them. Wanting to...
Father had been alarmed, pulling him back to the safety of the fire and telling him that wolves might attack them, if they were hungry and moving in a pack. The explanation had made Link angry for reasons he had been completely unable to explain, even to himself.
"Oh, look!" the squire to his right whispered.
The fog ahead was thinning. Already they could see that they were no longer surrounded by the strange squat trees with gaping mouths. Instead, there were great sprawling oak trees, thickly leaved and lushly green. The ground was covered by a veritable explosion of long green grass. Bushes and ferns were prolific on the ground. And all of it was illuminated by pure white moonlight, shining down from a night sky no longer obscured by fog.
Kester breathed out a long sigh of relief and wonder. They were out of the Lost Woods, and in the Korok Forest at the center of the peninsula. At long last, they had arrived.
The men quietly filed into a broad clearing, looking about them curiously. King Rhoam and Princess Zelda, at the front, had walked up to the largest tree and were politely bowing their heads before it.
The top of the tree shook slightly, setting the pink blooms on its highest branches to trembling. A deep, rumbling voice boomed out, and to Link's shock, he realized that the tree had a giant face: an old, wise face with heavy wooden eyebrows that effectively hid his eyes, and a dignified mustache bristling over his protruding lips below.
"Welcome, Your Majesties," his voice rumbled. "Welcome, knights of Hyrule. I am the Great Deku Tree, guardian of the Korok Forest. I am pleased to host you this night."
"We are honored by your invitation," King Rhoam replied, and though his voice was not as sonorous as the tree's, it was deep and stern and made no less of an impression. "I am King Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule, and this is my daughter, Zelda."
"Ahhh," the Great Deku Tree said. "She is most welcome. You will be greatly needed, Princess, in the conflict that is to come."
"What do you know of this conflict?" King Rhoam asked.
The Great Deku Tree rumbled from deep in his trunk, and the ground seemed to tremble slightly. "Calamity Ganon," he said, speaking the name reluctantly. "He comes with great destruction. All of Hyrule will be overthrown if he is not stopped. The Master Sword must be taken up by the hero and, together with the power of the Goddess, Calamity Ganon's vast darkness Sealed away."
Kester nudged Link with an elbow, and he realized that the other squires were edging around behind the knights who had stopped in the clearing, heading for a spot to the side where they would be able to see better. Link followed him.
When they finally emerged from behind the last of the knights, Link could not help but gasp at what had been hidden from his sight until this moment. There, in the center of the clearing, embedded half-deep in a stone platform, was the Master Sword.
Illuminated by a shaft of pure white moonlight, the sword's flawless silvery blade gleamed with an additional light all its own. The cross guard of the hilt was formed by two great purple wings spreading out, reminiscent of the winged Hylian royal crest. It was difficult to make out any other details from this distance.
Link felt his right hand twitch, and he suppressed a sudden wild urge to stride out to the middle of the clearing to get a closer look. He looked around and saw that the Royal Guard and all the knights were, to a man, staring at the sword with the same awe he could feel flooding through his body. The Master Sword! They had all heard legends of it from childhood. A creation of the Goddess Hylia herself, it had been gifted to a hero of old to defend Hyrule from a great evil. There were other legends and other heroes, the accounts vague and sometimes contradictory, coming as they did from the depths of time. The Sword might disappear for millennia, but always, it was gifted once more in a time of desperate need.
The royal fortune teller had told King Rhoam that the key to defeating Calamity Ganon would be found deep underground. The Sheikah had done heroic work in uncovering the ancient Guardians and the Divine Beasts, and they would no doubt be powerful weapons in the battle to come. But only the Master Sword, and the power of the Goddess within Princess Zelda, could ultimately Seal such a great darkness away.
Was the hero among them right now? In many of the legends, the hero was required to undergo difficult trials before he was deemed worthy to possess the Master Sword. Had someone here already done so? There were a handful of men here who had performed great feats of courage in service to the crown and had been granted the privilege of carrying a royal broadsword in recognition of that fact. Maybe it was one of them. Link looked across the clearing at Father, who was gazing at the Master Sword along with everyone else, his hand resting lightly on the golden pommel and purple grip of his royal broadsword.
Was it wrong of him to hope Father would be the one? It would be a heavy responsibility, he knew, and a dangerous one. Mother would worry even more than she already did. But the fate of Hyrule was at stake, and there was no sacrifice too great to save it. Link thought of all the beautiful sights he had seen in his travels - the setting sun casting orange rays over the rocky majesty of the Eldin region, thick snowflakes drifting silently down to coat the pine trees of Rito Village, the sleepy village of Kakariko and its quirky residents, the lush green oases dotting the desolation of the Gerudo desert - and the thought of those lands crawling with Calamity Ganon's minions sent a shudder down his spine. It must not be allowed to happen. It must not.
Even if it meant that Father must be placed in danger.
The light of the Master Sword filled Link's gaze, and he imagined it in Father's strong hands, beating back the darkness emanating from the formless, faceless Calamity Ganon of his imagination. A small flicker of heat awakened somewhere deep inside him. The Goddess would not leave them defenseless in the face of this threat. He knew she would not.
Even as he thought this, a second light seemed to pierce the aura of the Sword, coming from behind it, and Link's eyes followed it to its source.
His eyebrows went up in surprise. There was an opening into the trunk of the Great Deku Tree! He could see a small leaf-faced creature toddling into it purposefully, clutching an armful of shrooms. And inside, he could just make out a stone statue. A small representation of Hylia herself, shining with an unearthly light.
Taking a deep slow breath, Link closed his eyes and bowed his head. Please, let someone here tonight be found worthy of the Master Sword, he prayed. Let him find the courage and the strength to do all that is asked of him. Save this land from the Darkness that is to come.
The Great Deku Tree spoke once more, and Link lifted his head to look at him. "For years beyond count, I have guarded the Master Sword so that it would be ready when needed," he rumbled. "There are men of courage here. I invite all to try pulling the Sword free from its constraints. Many will fail. Only the one chosen by the Goddess will succeed. May the blessing of the Goddess Hylia be upon him."
A silence fell. The men in the clearing shifted uncomfortably on their feet, looking at each other as if wondering who should go first.
King Rhoam spoke loudly and decisively, instantly capturing everyone's attention. "The Royal Guard will come forth."
Reinold, the head of the Royal Guard, crisply stepped up, followed by Father, Bartelmeu and the other three Guards who had been assigned to this mission. The six of them lined up neatly, facing the king and the princess, with the Master Sword between them.
"You may begin," the king ordered. "In order of seniority."
That put Reinold first. More than one squire had speculated back at the castle that he would be the one. Without hesitation, he stepped up onto the stone platform and approached the gleaming Master Sword. His expression was set, his chin up proudly, but Link distinctly saw him swallow hard before reaching out to touch the hilt of the Sword.
Link held his breath, half-expecting something to happen in response, but nothing did. The Master Sword continued to gleam with a serene white light. Taking a deep breath, Reinold curled both hands about the hilt, braced his strong legs, and gave it a good hard pull.
The Sword didn't budge. Reinold gave another couple of pulls, obviously using every ounce of strength he possessed, but nothing happened. He turned to look at King Rhoam, a faint expression of disappointment on his face. The king nodded curtly, and Reinold stepped off the platform and stood smartly at attention behind the king and princess, his face slightly pink.
The next man stepped up, one Link didn't know well, and gave his best try. Nothing.
Bartelmeu tried next. Link glanced over at Kester. His friend was tense, watching the knight he had trained under since boyhood reach out in awe to touch an artifact of such profound import... but a few moments later, Kester had to contain his disappointment as Bartelmeu, too, walked away empty-handed.
So did the next two men.
As the newest of the Royal Guards present, Father went last.
Oh, please, Link thought silently in the direction of the goddess statue as Father stepped up onto the platform, his face solemn and his uniform impeccable. Oh, please...
This time, he wasn't even sure how to finish the prayer. His first one would have to suffice, then.
Father gripped the hilt of the Master Sword and pulled with his usual careful, precise form. Link found that he was holding his breath. There was a long pause, and a faint breeze stirred up and ruffled Father's brown hair. Down by his feet, there was a leaf-face looking up at him from the base of the platform, its head tilted to the side, exuding child-like curiosity.
Nothing was happening.
Father pulled a little longer, as if to be sure, but it could not be denied: the Sword wasn't budging an inch. Link felt a rush of emotion – part disappointment, part relief – as Father straightened up and walked over to join the other Royal Guards standing at attention behind the king and princess. His back was straight and his face betrayed nothing. Father had always been better than Link at concealing his emotions. Even Link wasn't sure what he was thinking right now.
Among the knights in attendance, there was a barely contained stir of excitement. Most of the men had probably assumed that if anyone was worthy of the Master Sword, it would be a man already proven worthy to protect the Royal Family. But now, if an ordinary knight was chosen by the Goddess, it would mean an automatic promotion to the Royal Guard for him. It had already been announced that the wielder of the Sword would be named as Princess Zelda's own appointed knight, tasked with staying by her side at all times and ensuring her personal safety as she fulfilled her duties.
A dozen knights lined up under the orders of their captain, and one by one, they stepped onto the platform and made their attempts. The squires, standing in a small knot to the side of the clearing, tried not to fidget as the line slowly dwindled with each failure. They were all anxious to see the Master Sword in the hands of the hero, but it had been a long day of marching, combined with the strange journey through the Lost Woods, and now the night was wearing on. Despite the squires' excitement, their bodies were tired and sore and it was getting harder to concentrate as the moon moved in its slow arc across the star-studded sky. Link found his eyes wandering to the strange wood-sprites in their leaf masks, several of whom were getting a birds-eye view of the proceedings thanks to clever little propellers they had constructed from branches and leaves. One of them was hovering almost directly over King Rhoam's head. Cheeky thing. Link suppressed a grin and then glanced around, but no one else seemed to be looking at it.
"Hmmmmm..." the Great Deku Tree rumbled, and everyone turned to look at him for a long respectful moment, but when he didn't speak, the men resumed taking their turns climbing up the platform. Link gazed up at the guardian of Korok Forest for a long moment, wondering: Just how old was he? Trees could live for hundreds of years, he had heard. Maybe even thousands. And he must have a great magic – slow and subtle, like a tree, but powerful – to keep the forest a place of safety for the Master Sword for so long.
The Great Deku Tree smiled at Link.
Or... was he really looking at Link? It was hard to be sure, as his eyes were hidden under his wooden brows. Link looked behind him, but no one was standing there.
Kester nudged Link with his elbow, catching his attention. The first unit of knights had all failed to draw the Master Sword, and now the other unit was lining up. Link clasped his hands behind his back and watched respectfully as Captain Imbert stepped up. What if he ended up being the one? After the squires had annoyed him with their chatter today? And Link himself had gotten away with a small defiance of the rules? He felt a stab of guilt. He really should have behaved better.
Imbert gripped the hilt of the Sword and hauled away at it, not particularly gracefully but with an impressive show of strength.
It didn't budge. Beside Link, Kester let out an audible sigh.
The next man stepped up just as the limb of the moon slipped down below the treeline and its white light faded. With a surprising abruptness, the clearing fell into comparative darkness; the torches they had brought along had all burned out an hour ago.
Now the Master Sword itself was the only source of light remaining.
Its white, serene light shone on all the upturned faces. Only a handful of men now remained who had not yet tried. Link felt uneasy and, looking around, it seemed he was not the only one. What if no one managed to draw the Sword tonight? There were many other knights in the kingdom who could make the attempt, it was true, but their forces were scattered widely right now to deal with the increase in monster attacks. To gather more for a second trip, or a third or fourth, would take time... and there wasn't much time remaining before Calamity Ganon was expected to make its appearance.
Please, let the hero come tonight, Link prayed fervently in the direction of the goddess statue nestled inside the trunk of the Great Deku Tree. Let him come quickly!
Another failure. Another. And another. King Rhoam stood motionless as a statue, watching, but Link could see Princess Zelda swaying slightly on her feet. She looked exhausted, and worried. And no wonder. How much harder would it be for her to perform her duties without her partner in the fight?
The final man mounted the platform. Link held his breath as the knight wrapped his hands around the hilt of the Master Sword. Perhaps the goddess had saved the best for last. He didn't know this man, but he couldn't be expected to know all the men of courage in the army. Maybe this one...
The final candidate pulled on the sword for a good long time, beads of sweat rolling down his flushed face. He clearly didn't want to be the one to disappoint everyone.
But in the end, he was. There was an audible murmur among the men as he finally gave up and got back into rank, head ducked down.
The sword stood upright and silent in its pedestal, exactly as they had found it. All had failed. Their long march had been for nothing.
All eyes went to the king.
He turned to talk to Reinold, their heads close together and their voices low. The Royal Guards standing on either side of Reinold were unabashedly leaning in to listen. Father was at the end of the row, still standing at attention. He met Link's eyes briefly and then looked away.
The conversation went on for several minutes. Other than a little shifting of boots and clearing of throats, the knights kept quiet. The stars had disappeared and the sky in the east was beginning to lighten. Dawn must be close. They'd want to leave for the castle soon, if they were to reach it before darkness fell once more.
Finally, the men broke apart, and Reinold strode purposefully over to... the squires?
Quickly, the boys all stood up straight and tried to look alert.
"It is the king's command," Reinold said, looking at them sternly, "that all squires who are of age should make the attempt before we depart."
Kester's eyes went wide, and he wasn't the only one. The younger boys looked openly envious, while the older ones all looked aghast. No one had warned them this might be a possibility. None of them had thought for a second that they would be asked to...
For one brief, glorious moment Link felt a surge of pure joy. He would get to actually touch it! The weapon of the hero!
Then he realized he would have to walk out in front of everyone, with fifty pairs of eyes watching, to do it, and instantly he went cold. He couldn't. He couldn't possibly. He could face anything but that.
He blew out a shaky breath. The king had commanded, so he must. They all must.
"Quickly now," Reinold said, ushering Kester forward. "Oldest first. Here we go."
Kester had gone white, but obediently he lined up with the handful of squires who had come of age but not yet been tested for knighthood. Link, as the youngest of them, took his place at the end of the line, heart beating fast. He looked down the row of faces. There were seven of them altogether, and they were all looking at each other with similar expressions of disbelief. Surely there was no chance of the Goddess choosing someone who had not even completed their training! This had to be an act of desperation.
Reinold nodded to Kester, who took a deep breath and strode toward the platform. Almost immediately, he stumbled over a rock half-hidden in the long grass, and only just managed to regain his balance and stay on his feet. Now blushing scarlet, he rushed over to the Master Sword, gave it a halfhearted tug, and then hurried straight back to his place in line, looking visibly relieved to have it over with.
One by one, the squires stepped onto the platform and pulled at the Sword. Squire after squire stepped off the platform empty-handed.
He could hear the men murmuring behind him, clearly disappointed that even this last-ditch effort was not yielding results. Link was disappointed too, but he felt sure that the Goddess would ensure the sword – and the hero – were ready in time, perhaps in some way they weren't expecting.
It was his turn now.
Link stepped out of line and strode toward the stone platform. He was uncomfortably aware of all the eyes on him, not least of all the king and princess, standing closest to the platform. He doubted either of them had ever noticed his existence before. Squires tended to be invisible to everyone important, unless they drew attention with incompetence or misbehavior. After just a few steps, Link spotted the rock Kester had tripped over and barely managed to avoid the same fate by doing a small hop over it instead. Immediately he was embarrassed by his own poor judgment; no one else had needed to hop over the rock because their legs were long enough to stride over it. He had just emphasized for everyone watching how short he was! The men were probably all wondering now if he was actually old enough to be doing this. They must all be thinking that he looked like he belonged with the younger squires. Like he didn't belong here at all. And-
And he was doing it again.
It was just like the day he and Kester had climbed up on the stage in Castle Town to show the players an example of proper sword-form. He was overthinking everything! What was it about watching eyes that unbalanced him like this? Fighting monsters couldn't break his calm, but an audience could? What did that say about him? How could he possibly have thought he was ready to be knighted, with a flaw this glaring in his character?
It seemed to be taking an eternity to reach his destination. Link forced himself to ignore the panic that was rising inside him, and focused with a terrible effort on the stone platform before him. That was better; staring at the Master Sword in its pedestal made the watching faces blur a little. Now that he was closer, he could see more of the weapon's details. The purple grip of the sword was crisscrossed with a golden ribbon design. Just between the spreading wings of the cross guard, there was a yellow gem in the shape of a diamond. And at the base of the blade, where it was widest, the sacred Triforce had been etched into the gleaming metal.
He stepped up onto the stone platform, his foot brushing past a strange flower unlike any he had ever seen before: a star-like white bloom with blue streaks at its heart. He could see now that the Master Sword had been slid down into a slit cut into a low triangular pedestal. The white light shining from the exposed base of the blade seemed to be pulsing in a steady rhythm, keeping perfect time with his own thudding heartbeat. Had it been doing that before? Was it only visible now that he was close?
A murmur with an odd note to it arose from the knights behind him who were watching, but Link couldn't afford to let himself be distracted. He reached out and put his palm lightly on the pommel of the Sword.
It was warm. Like a living creature. From so many hands touching it, maybe?
He grasped the long hilt with both hands, and was shocked to feel the blade shift slightly in its housing, making a soft scraping sound. His head jerked up, eyes wide, and immediately he locked gazes with Father, standing at attention in the line of Royal Guards behind the king and princess.
Father's eyes looked as wide as his.
The blade was loose? Dozens of men had been pulling on it with all their strength, and it hadn't budged an inch. For the first time, Link considered a possibility that hadn't even crossed his mind before, and he froze in place.
Surely not. Surely not.
He hadn't overcome any trials. He wasn't even knighted yet. The Goddess couldn't possibly choose...
Father's expression was changing. He nodded slightly to Link, his eyes intense, and then again, more urgently, as if to say: Go on!
There was nothing else to do. Link braced his feet, gripped the hilt tightly, and began to pull.
The sword didn't slide out easily, but it didn't come reluctantly, either. Slow and steady, bit by bit, it emerged from the stone, until at last the tip pulled free and Link found himself holding the Master Sword free and clear.
The blade was heavy.
It was also glowing with a white light so intense it should have hurt his eyes, but it didn't. Overwhelmed by its beauty, Link squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head, touching the hilt against his forehead in a prayer of deep gratitude for the answer to his plea: Hyrule would indeed have the power of the Sword that Seals the Darkness in time to stop Calamity Ganon.
And he would have to be the one to wield it.
Link felt his heart stutter in anxiety. Him? But he had thought that Father...
He shook his head slightly, pressing his lips together. It didn't matter what he thought. The will of the Goddess was not to be denied. She held all wisdom, and so he must do what was asked of him. Nothing more or less.
He looked up at last, and caught the eyes of his father once more. Link could see the pride and confidence shining from his eyes, and for one perfect moment he felt strong, strong enough to hold even this heavy Sword, strong enough to endure all the eyes upon him. A wild rush of power swept through his veins, and instinctively Link lifted the sword high, its point straight up in a skyward salute to the goddess, feeling a swell of triumph like a chord of music thrumming deep inside his heart.
The sun lifted above the horizon, casting golden light across the clearing. The flat of the blade caught the light and scattered it, illuminating the faces of all those watching. Link gave the sword a few practice swings, hearing the sharp blade whistle through the air, feeling its perfect weight and balance, as the new sunlight gleamed on its pristine blade. It was longer than Father's royal broadsword, but not long enough to be a true claymore; a hand-and-a-half sword, it would take a great deal of practice and greater strength before he would be able to wield it with a shield on his other arm. Immediately Link vowed to work as long and as hard as he needed to perfect the technique.
Abruptly as a thunderclap, he became aware once more that he was practically standing on a stage, and everyone was looking at the Master Sword – and him – with a mixture of awe, hope and surprise on their faces.
King Rhoam was striding toward him, with Princess Zelda walking just behind and to the side of him. The princess looked... angry? Link froze in confusion at her reaction, but then the king came to a stop in front of him, and automatically Link sank down onto one knee, resting the sharp point of the Sword against the stone platform, and bowed his head reverently.
An overwhelming sense of unreality flooded his body. This couldn't have really happened. None of it. The only thing that felt real was the hilt of the Sword, gripped in his right hand. Both his hands were sweating profusely and his heart was galloping like a horse. Link rubbed his left palm surreptitiously against his trousers and prayed he wouldn't lose his grip on the Sword with the other. If he could only get through this without embarrassing himself, or the entire kingdom...
King Rhoam looked down at him for a long moment. Link kept his eyes fixed on the ground, but he could feel the king's gaze like a physical force.
At last, the king spoke.
"Reinold?"
The head of the Royal Guard hastened to his side, his boots swishing through the long grass.
"Whose squire is this?" the king asked him.
"Ranulf's, Your Majesty," Reinold answered promptly.
"Bring him."
Reinold gestured, and a few moments later Father joined them.
"His name?" the king asked.
"Link, Your Majesty," Father said crisply. "My son."
There was another long pause.
"He's small," King Rhoam said.
The king seemed to expect an answer to that, but neither Reinold nor Father seemed to know what to say. It was true, of course.
"He is of age?" the king prodded.
"Only just, Your Majesty," Father answered. His voice sounded a little hoarse. "His... mother is small," he added, almost reluctantly.
"Reinold, what do you think?" King Rhoam asked.
Link dared to look up to see the answer.
"I had agreed to test this young man for knighthood upon our return to the castle," Reinold said. "It was my expectation that he would pass." His tone was matter of fact. "I've had my eye on this one since his father joined the Royal Guard, Your Majesty. Prodigious skill with a blade, and braver than you might think, a lad his age."
Father's face practically glowed with pride at Reinold's praise, but the king's face remained stern. Link glanced over at the princess. Her lips were pressed to a thin line, eyes shifting off to the side. She could hardly bear to look at him. Why? He couldn't understand it.
After a long moment of deliberation, the king spoke.
"Administer the oath," he told Reinold curtly. "We can't afford to wait for him to grow up."
Heat bloomed in Link's cheeks. He wasn't what the king expected. He understood that. He hadn't expected this either. But what could he say? Apologies and explanations... they would only be empty words. Calamity Ganon was coming, and all they had was a barely trained boy holding a Sword that was too heavy for him. Nothing could change that now.
So he held his tongue.
The king strode away so that Reinold could perform the knighthood ceremony. Already the head of the Royal Guard was beckoning over more men to assist. But the princess lingered for a moment, looking down at Link. To his surprise, she now had a look of clear sympathy on her face. Had he imagined her earlier hostility? He must have.
"On your feet, lad," Reinold said, and as Link got back up the princess seemed to realize she was in the way, and retreated.
Bartelmeu and another Royal Guard joined Father and Reinold, and the four of them surrounded Link and put their hands on his shoulders. He stood as straight and tall as he could, holding the hilt of the Master Sword in both hands with the point down, and repeated the words that Reinold recited to him. The oath was an ancient one, promising fealty to the Royal Family, to his fellow knights, to the kingdom of Hyrule, and to the Goddess Hylia. It was short but full of meaning, and Link kept his eyes on Father as he said the words, speaking carefully and deliberately. Father's eyes shone with emotion, and Link felt his moistening in response. They had both waited a long time for this day.
"Present arms," Reinold said when the oath was complete, and Link held the Master Sword out in both hands for Reinold to take from him. "Kneel."
Link knelt on the hard stone platform once more, but before Reinold could finish the ceremony, King Rhoam appeared at his shoulder and held out his hand expectantly. Bowing his head respectfully, Reinold handed over the Master Sword. The king held the weapon in one hand and touched the tip of the blade to each of Link's shoulders briefly.
The Sword looked far more manageable in the king's strong hand than it had in his own small one.
"I knight thee Sir Link, knight of Hyrule, and charge you to fulfill your oaths," King Rhoam said. "You may rise."
He handed the Master Sword back to Link and, the ceremony complete, the knights watching broke out into applause. Looking around, Link was almost startled by the enthusiasm in their faces. Didn't they also think the choice of the Goddess a strange one? But they didn't seem to at all.
A part of him ached to get out from under everyone's gazes, even the friendly ones, so that he could have a moment to make sense of all of this. But it wasn't over yet. Now the princess was supposed to name him her chosen knight, making him a part of the Royal Guard. Already she was walking toward him, her pace slow and dignified in her stiff blue and gold gown. It did not seem possible that she was the same girl he had seen curled up on a grassy bank only yesterday, chattering animatedly to a little lizard cupped in her hands. Here was a royal princess, poised and proper. Maybe she was older than him, after all. Now she looked it.
The king put out an arm in front of Zelda, halting her progress, and gave her a quick stern shake of his head. She froze in place and then dropped her gaze to the ground.
So he wasn't to be made a member of the Royal Guard after all.
Well, that wasn't really surprising, Link told himself. It would have made him the youngest Royal Guard ever, most likely. Too young for that much responsibility. But he couldn't help but be embarrassed by his own inadequacy. If only he could have been everything the king wanted! Everything the kingdom needed.
There was a stir of activity behind him. Reinold was giving orders for the men to prepare to depart quickly. Everyone moved to get back into rank, bracing themselves for a long march after a night of no sleep. Link could see the squires being ushered to the back of the procession, and he knew in a flash that he wouldn't be marching back there with them anymore. But no one had told him where to go yet, and so he stood there awkwardly clutching the Master Sword as every man who passed close by turned to stare at it, and at him. If only he could hide its light from view, just for a little while! But he had no scabbard. He would have to carry it, exposed and glimmering, all the way back to Hyrule Castle.
"Well," Princess Zelda said quietly, standing close by him as activity buzzed all around them. "That was easy, wasn't it?"
Link turned to stare at her in astonishment. Was she joking? She must be joking. But there wasn't a hint of amusement on her face. She wasn't looking at him at all, in fact, but rather staring fiercely at nothing in particular, eyebrows drawn together like a thundercloud on her fair face.
There was a long pause, and then the princess seemed to think it necessary to clarify.
"You pulled the Sword on your very first try," she said. "You must be highly favored of the goddess."
The bitterness in her tone was at complete odds with her words. Link knew he should say something, if only to acknowledge that he had heard her, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. What was he supposed to say to that? A half dozen possibilities flickered through his mind, each one rapidly discarded because he feared it would be taken badly, or misunderstood, or thought childish. He would have to work closely with the princess from now on. He couldn't start off their partnership on the wrong foot. He couldn't afford mistakes. Especially when her father was standing close enough that he might be able to overhear their exchange.
So Link closed his mouth. Better to say nothing than the wrong thing, as Mother always said.
The princess finally turned to look at him. "Don't you talk?" she asked.
"Yes."
She seemed to expect something more, but Link didn't know how to give it to her.
"It's difficult to tell," she said stiffly.
"The Goddess does not make mistakes," the Great Deku Tree rumbled quietly, and Link and Zelda both turned toward him in surprise. They had both forgotten that he was there, although his gnarled roots were anchored deep into the ground all around them.
"Of course she doesn't," Zelda said quickly and firmly, but now that Link was standing so close to her, he could see that the perfect braid of hair crowning her head was damp at the temples. Suddenly he realized that she looked every bit as tense as he felt, and he wondered at that. Unlike him, she must be accustomed to all the watching eyes. She had known her whole life what her task would be, and she had had time to accept her fate and to prepare for it. For that, he envied her.
"To accomplish her purposes, the Goddess must rely on flawed mortals to do their part," the Great Deku Tree said. "In her wisdom, she sees into the hearts of all. Her choices can be... unexpected. But she chooses well."
Now it was the princess's turn to be speechless. She opened her mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again.
"Do not doubt it, Princess," the Great Deku Tree said, speaking so slowly that each word hung in the air on its own. "Do not doubt it, Link."
He drew in a long reedy breath, and then let it out with a hollow wooden sound. "And now, I must sleep," he rumbled. "Long have I stood watch over the Sword. Long, long time..." His deep voice trailed off, and then he sucked in a long, slow breath that sounded suspiciously like a snore.
A long silence fell. Awakened by the dawn, the chirping of sparrows filled the air, adding music to the snores of the guardian of Korok Forest.
"Link?"
He turned to look at Princess Zelda once more. She stared at him for a long moment, as if uncertain what to say, and then finally said in a business-like but not unfriendly tone: "I think we should wrap up that Sword for now, don't you? Once we're back at the castle, our royal armorer will make a beautiful scabbard for it. His very best work, I should think, for such a gift from the Goddess."
Link nodded, and the princess untied the long velvety sash around her waist and then stepped forward to tie one end to the hilt of the Master Sword. Working slowly and carefully, she wrapped the material around and around the sharp edges of the blade, until at last its shining metal was covered up. She tucked the loose end in securely and then stepped back. She had done neat work, and Link was relieved to find that he no longer felt so conspicuous.
"I think we can strap it to your back with this," Father said, unexpectedly appearing at his elbow. Link saw that he was holding two leather straps - the straps that Father had been using to secure his own weapons, it looked like. "Here, lift up your arms. Princess, would you mind holding this here?"
Father took the wrapped Sword from Link and pressed it diagonally against his back, and the princess held it in place while Father reached around him and buckled the two straps tightly around his chest, one up high and one lower down. He tested it with a few tugs, and it stayed securely in place. "There. That should do for now."
It seemed barely adequate considering the sacredness of the blade – Link standing there in his Hylian tunic and trousers, looking like the squire he had been only a few minutes ago, without even a proper scabbard for his weapon – but Father was right. It would have to do for now.
The march out of the woods passed like a dream. No one spoke, and before long, they emerged from the fog and halted briefly at the camp, where the early morning sunshine slanted down on the barracks.
The knights bustled off to don their armor and weapons once more for the trip back to the castle. A handful of squires, Kester among them, hurried past the Royal Guards, headed for the stables to saddle up the horses for their knights. Link should have been among them, fetching Heriot, but now Father no longer had a squire. He would have to do it himself. And so Link busied himself by slipping into the barracks and fetching his bow and quiver, strapping them back on in their usual places. He left his soldier's broadsword in storage; it was superfluous now. After a little debate, he left his shield, too. He would have his hands more than full with this larger sword. Eventually he would be strong enough to wield it one-handed along with a shield, but that would take time.
When he came back outside, the stablemaster was there beside King Rhoam, nodding his head crisply as he was ordered to bring the two royal mounts. "And bring another mount, for the bearer of the Sword," the king added, gesturing toward Link.
"Your Majesty, I'm afraid the camp has no horses to spare," the stablemaster said regretfully, and it was only then that his eyes fell on Link, and his mouth dropped open in surprise as his eyes flicked up to the hilt of the Master Sword sticking up over Link's right shoulder.
"Then one of the Royal Guards must lend him their horse," the king said curtly. "The Master Sword must not go to the castle on foot."
"He can take mine, Your Majesty," Father said quickly. "Link is already familiar with him. Helped break him when he was a colt."
The king raised no objection, and Father strode off toward the stable, giving Link a quick reassuring smile as he went.
Link was horrified. Him, riding on Father's fine horse and beautiful saddle, while Father marched in the dust behind him! The wrongness of it choked him. He hurried to catch up to Father.
"Father!" he said breathlessly, falling into a stride beside him. "I- I can't take your place!"
"No one is asking you to take my place, son," Father said calmly. "It's time for you to take yours. We knew this was coming soon anyway, didn't we?"
"Not like this!"
Father was quiet for a moment. "You'll be a greater knight than I, Link," he said at last. "I've known that for some time now. True, I didn't see it happening in quite this way-" His gray eyes rested briefly on the hilt of the Sword. "-but the Goddess knows what she is about. Your task will be a difficult one – I'm sure you feel the weight of it – but you will rise to meet it." He stopped and looked at Link seriously. "I am certain of that."
He thumped Link's shoulder and strode into the stable. Link stood there a moment, inwardly rebelling but knowing that he could not contradict.
In the distance, he heard a faint whinny. It wasn't coming from the direction of the stable. Link turned his eyes toward it, and suddenly he remembered. The wild horses! He had seen them yesterday, sitting up in the apple tree. They weren't far.
He perked up. Could he...?
Of course he could. Easily. But would the king consider it a defiance of his orders?
The stablemaster brushed past Link on his way to get the royal mounts, and paused to meet Link's eyes. The wind carried another faint whinny to their ears. The stablemaster heard it too, noticed the look on Link's face, and seemed to guess in an instant what he was thinking.
"The king likes knights who show initiative," he said in a conspiratorial whisper, giving Link a quick wink.
Link smiled, and the moment the stablemaster disappeared into the stable, he bounded away, hopping the fence of the grassy pen and heading unerringly for the hidden little hollow where the apple trees grew. He shimmied up the trunk and then grunted in surprise as the Sword on his back got caught up in the branches. Forcing himself to move more carefully, he managed to get his hands on several apples and then looked around to be sure.
Yes, there was the small herd of wild horses in the same area he'd seen them yesterday. The pintos were placidly standing with their heads down to tear at the grass. The chestnut horse was prancing about them, tossing its mane proudly as the morning sun shone on its sleek hide. Link looked at the chestnut and longed for it unabashedly. It had plenty of vim and vigor and would make a good strong riding horse, once it had been tamed a bit.
But he had so little time. The king wanted to leave camp the moment everything was packed up, as the rise in monster attacks made it inadvisable to travel after dark if it could be avoided. He wouldn't really have time to settle down such a high-spirited animal, unless he wanted to make everyone in the camp wait for him.
Sighing, Link moved his gaze to the pintos. There was a mare with a brown hide covered in big, blotchy white spots. She looked healthy but tranquil. A more sensible choice. She would have to do.
Link shoved the apples in his pockets and dropped to the ground. Moving quickly but quietly, he circled around to come at the horses from downwind. He crouched down and made sure to put his boots down softly and smoothly, barely making a swish in the grass as he approached them. It worked – the horses didn't catch his scent, and he was able to creep up quite close from behind a screening tree.
Here was where it got tricky. Link fixed his eyes on the brown and white pinto he had picked out, and carefully withdrew the apples from his pockets. Then, he stepped out slowly from behind the tree, holding them out.
The pinto lifted her head, sniffing the air with wide nostrils. The apples he had picked were a little overripe, and they were putting off a too-sweet scent. She turned and fixed brown eyes on him. Link froze, praying she wouldn't bolt. She seemed a little surprised, tossing her head a bit, but he held out the apples higher, and she shifted her hooves a little, clearly tempted by the offer, even if his presence made her nervous.
Link took a slow, smooth step toward her, and began speaking in a low voice. It didn't matter much what you said to horses as long as you kept your voice soothing, but he reassured her that he didn't mean any harm, and wasn't she a beautiful horse, and wouldn't she like a nice apple?
The mare did want a nice apple. She took a hesitant step toward him, and then another one. Finally, she closed the distance and condescended to take an apple from his hand. It crunched loudly and disappeared quickly. She took the second one he offered, too, and only twitched a little when he reached out and gently stroked her neck, speaking low to her all the time.
It was working. He let her take the last apple, and then, while she was busy chewing it, he bent his knees and in one smooth motion launched himself up and onto her back.
The mare instantly took off running, as he knew she would. But he had his knees tightly clamped against her sides and one hand threaded through her mane to give him a handhold, while the other hand was firmly but gently stroking her neck. He kept up the low, encouraging talk as she ran, scattering the other horses who whinnied in anxiety at the disruption to their feeding.
It turned out the mare was as docile as he had guessed, and before he ran out of the stamina it took to keep himself seated on an uncontrolled horse, she slowed and then finally stopped, ears twitching.
Link gave her a minute to rest and get used to the weight on her back, and then he gently nudged her sides with his heels until she obediently began to walk. He could see the stablemaster standing on a ridge ahead of them, holding up a bridle meaningfully.
"What should I call you?" he asked her softly. "How about Pomona? You like that name?"
The mare huffed a little, and he took that for a yes.
"Pomona. Would you like to go on a little trip with me to see the castle?"
She kept plodding along placidly until they reached the stablemaster. He reached out with a calloused hand and, with slow careful movements, slipped the bridle on over Pomona's head. She endured it patiently, responding to the man's gentle touches as well as she had to Link's.
"Here you are, lad," the stablemaster said, handing him the reins. "I'm afraid we don't have any spare saddles."
"I can do without."
"I thought you could. You've got a little time to train her before they'll be ready to depart. Oh, the camp cooks were passing these out for the journey back." He handed a leaf-wrapped bundle of rice balls to Link - with some kind of fish in them, by the smell of it - and Link tucked it carefully in his pocket. "And your breakfast." He passed up a crumbling nut cake, which Link got rid of by stuffing into his mouth as quickly as possible.
"Thank you," he said thickly, and the stablemaster grinned and let go of the halter.
Link took as much time as he dared, teaching Pomona to turn when he asked and to stop when he wanted, soothing her all the time. When he knew he could take no more time, he urged her toward the camp. She was still a bit nervous, but once she was in the procession, he sensed she would follow the other horses' examples and be no trouble.
He walked Pomona up to the front of the procession, where Princess Zelda had already been helped up onto her white horse, sitting side-saddle in her formal gown. Father was standing nearby in his armor holding Heriot's bridle, but when he saw Link sitting on a new horse he grinned a little, shook his head ruefully, and swung up onto his own horse without further comment. Link saw the other Royal Guards looking at him and smiling as well. No one seemed upset. Link glanced at King Rhoam, but he was already nudging his enormous mount into place and didn't even seem to notice what horse Link was riding. He relaxed. He had done the right thing.
They fell into line, with Reinold and Bartelmeu leading the way, the latter holding the royal banner that fluttered in the breeze. King Rhoam followed, and then Link and Zelda side by side. Behind them, Father and the remaining Royal Guards rode their mounts in pairs, and then the ordinary knights marched behind them in two units. Link looked back over his shoulder at the squires, all the way at the back. Kester lifted up a hand to wave at him. He was grinning ear to ear.
Link felt a warmth deep inside, followed by a surge of sadness. He would not see much of Kester anymore.
TO BE CONTINUED
Author's note: Feedback is welcomed! Let me know what you think.