Chapter 7: Scars of the Past
The skies above Hyrule were clear, with a soft breeze stirring the air. The scars of the war were still visible—crumbling walls, blackened earth—but the kingdom was slowly healing. Fields of green had begun to sprout, and the once-chaotic land was finding its peace again. Yet, for some, the war had left wounds that were not so easily mended.
In the heart of Hyrule Castle's training yard, Zelda was sparring with Impa. The Sheikah warrior's eyes were sharp, her body poised in perfect readiness, the wooden training sword gripped in her hand as she watched Zelda with an unyielding intensity.
"Again," Impa commanded, her voice low but firm.
Zelda's breath came in ragged gasps, her arms aching from the relentless pace. Her grip tightened on her own wooden blade, though her hands trembled with each swing, her muscles protesting with every movement. Sweat trickled down her forehead, and her legs felt like they could give way at any moment. She stole a quick, almost instinctive glance toward the balcony above, where Link stood watching. Does he see how hard I'm trying? she thought, frustration bubbling under her exhaustion.
"Impa, we've been at this for hours…" Zelda's voice was strained, pleading.
Impa's face was impassive, her expression giving nothing away. "Again," she repeated, stepping forward to meet Zelda's next strike with ease. "There is no room for weakness, Princess."
Zelda swung her sword, trying to focus, but exhaustion clouded her mind. Every day for the past year had been like this. No rest, no respite. Impa had pushed her to the brink, demanding more than Zelda thought she had to give.
"I defeated Ganondorf," Zelda managed between labored breaths, swinging again, her voice laced with frustration. "I can handle myself."
Impa deflected the blow effortlessly, her movements precise and controlled. "You had help," she reminded her, her tone sharp. "Next time, you may not. There won't always be a fast hedgehog from another world to save you when things go wrong."
Zelda winced at the reminder, her eyes flicking to the balcony above. Link stood, watching closely, his blue eyes focused, scanning every movement she made. He had been like this ever since the war ended—present, but distant. She remembered the desperation she'd felt when he had fallen, rushing him to the resurrection chamber, saving his life at the last possible moment. Since then, no matter how hard she tried, he had remained her protector, nothing more.
"Again," Impa commanded, pulling Zelda from her thoughts.
Zelda's arms trembled as she raised the sword once more, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to be stronger, to show Impa—and herself—that she didn't need anyone's help. But her exhaustion was overwhelming, and her strikes grew slower, sloppier.
From above, Link continued to watch, his brow furrowed as he studied her. He saw the weariness in her movements, the frustration behind each swing. He had seen her fight bravely, valiantly, to free Hyrule from Ganondorf's grasp. Now, even as she trained to sharpen her skills, something about her seemed weighed down by more than the sword in her hand.
Without a word, Link leaped from the balcony, landing silently in the training yard. His presence immediately drew Zelda's attention, and even Impa lowered her sword slightly as she glanced at him. He approached the weapons rack, selecting a wooden sword and giving it a quick, casual spin in his hand.
"Show me what you've got," Link said, his voice steady but with a hint of challenge.
Impa raised an eyebrow, a faint smile touching her lips. "I'll leave this one to you, Princess," she said, stepping back with arms crossed, her gaze keen.
Zelda straightened, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. Her eyes met Link's, and for a moment, she felt a surge of energy—a desire to prove herself, not just to Impa, but to him. She raised her sword, ready for the spar.
They circled each other for a brief moment, the tension between them palpable. Zelda lunged first, her sword swinging with precision. Link blocked effortlessly, his movements calm and deliberate.
"You know," Zelda said, a smirk tugging at her lips as she adjusted her stance, "if you're going easy on me, at least try to hide it."
Link raised an eyebrow, a faint smile forming. "If I went easy, you'd notice." He gave his sword a playful spin. "Maybe I'm just giving you a chance to catch your breath."
Zelda narrowed her eyes, feigning indignation. "Oh, you're going to regret that, Hero."
She pressed forward, attacking with renewed determination. Link continued to deflect each strike, but there was a new energy between them, an exchange of grins and lighthearted jabs that belied the focus in their movements.
The sparring match didn't last long. Link was faster, his strikes more measured. With a swift motion, he disarmed Zelda, knocking the sword from her hand and sending her stumbling back. Before she could regain her footing, he tapped her shoulder with his wooden blade, signaling her defeat.
Zelda blinked, catching her breath as she straightened. "Fine," she sighed, attempting to sound dramatic. "So, you're a little faster than me."
"Only a little?" Link teased, offering her his hand to pull her up.
She took it, her hands resting on his shoulders for a brief moment, her eyes searching his.
"Does that mean the winner gets to have dinner with the Princess?" she asked, her tone light and playful, but her gaze hopeful.
For a moment, Link hesitated, his shoulders lowering slightly, as though caught off guard. A softness flickered in his expression, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. His gaze turned distant again, as though duty had settled over him like armor. "I have to check on the scouts at the border," he said, his voice steady but quiet. "I won't be able to stay."
Zelda's face fell, but she masked her disappointment with a small, forced smile. "Of course. Duty calls."
With a nod, Link turned and walked away, his steps as quiet and purposeful as ever. Zelda watched him leave, the familiar ache of frustration and longing tugging at her heart.
Impa stepped forward, her arms still crossed as she regarded Zelda with the wisdom and experience of a warrior who had seen much in her time. "He cares for you," Impa said, her voice firm yet compassionate. "But it's hard for a sworn protector to be anything more than that. The role of a protector leaves its mark, Princess. It's a bond that rarely fades," she added, her gaze drifting momentarily, as though recalling her own history.
Zelda sighed, her gaze following Link's retreating form. "He's always so distant, Impa. I thought that after everything we went through, after everything we did to save Hyrule, things would be different."
Impa placed a steady hand on Zelda's shoulder, her expression serious. "Link is the Hero of Hyrule, Zelda. His loyalty to you and to this kingdom runs deeper than you know. But being your protector… it's a heavy burden. It defines him, and that's not something he can easily let go of."
Zelda turned to Impa, her eyes clouded with emotion. "I don't need him just as my protector. I need him… with me."
Impa's gaze softened, though her voice remained steady. "In time, Princess. He's still healing, just like the rest of this kingdom. He will come to you when he's ready."
Zelda looked away, the weight of both her royal duties and her unspoken feelings pressing down on her. She turned her gaze toward the distant horizon, where the sun was setting behind the mountains, casting long shadows across the land.
Just as the last light of day began to fade, a faint glow caught her eye. Zelda glanced down at the back of her hand, her breath hitching as she saw the Triforce symbol shining softly beneath her skin. The golden glow pulsed gently, as if it were trying to tell her something. A warmth radiated up her arm, filling her with both curiosity and unease.
Zelda frowned, her heart skipping a beat. She had never seen it react like this before. But what did it mean?
Impa noticed the glow as well, her gaze sharpening. "Zelda, what is it?"
"I don't know…" Zelda whispered, her eyes fixed on the symbol. "But something is happening."
The glow faded as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only silence in its wake. Zelda exchanged a look with Impa, the unease growing in the pit of her stomach.