Zelda awoke to a faint tingling in her palm. She stretched her fingers lazily, her eyes still closed, and rolled over, assuming that her arm had fallen asleep due to her cramped position on the short bed. An early morning breeze drifted into the room and brushed over Zelda's cheek. She grimaced and yanked on the thick wool blanket she slept under, pulling it up underneath her chin. The breeze seemed to whisper gently to Zelda as she snuggled deeper under her blanket, but Zelda was set on drifting back to sleep and tried to shut out all her other senses. Just as sleep began to come upon Zelda once more, the tingling in her palm gave a sharp twinge, and Zelda sat up with a gasp. She jerked her hand in front of her face and saw...her palm, slightly red and calloused from her work around the house. Confused, Zelda turned her hand over slowly and yelped in alarm, scrambling back on her bed. In her haste, the back of her head came in abrupt contact with the windowsill, and she cried out in pain. She winced, rubbing the back of her head before looking down at her hand once again.

There was a glowing, golden symbol shining off the back of Zelda's hand, with three distinct triangles. She watched as the triangles shuddered, then flew towards each other, and the space between them formed another upside down triangle in the center. There was a flash of light , and Zelda gasped, covering her eyes and bracing herself up against the wall behind her. When the light diminished, Zelda opened her eyes slowly and immediately looked back at her right hand. The three triangles were still there; they had stopped glowing, but the shapes remained, outlined and distinct just beneath her knuckles.

"Zelda?" Pipit shoved his way into the room. "Zelda, are you okay?"

"Fine," Zelda breathed, tracing the outlines of the triangles on her hand. Pipit stared at her incredulously.

"You're fine? What happened? I heard you scream!"
Zelda shook her head, bemused. She couldn't take her eyes off the golden symbol on her hand and was reluctant to speak. "Nothing. I hit my head."

Pipit raised an eyebrow. "Zelda? What are you looking..." He took a step closer to her, his gaze catching on her hand. He froze, his face paling.

"I said it's fine." Zelda finally tore her eyes away and looked up at Pipit, smiling reassuringly. His face was white, and his eyes were wide. "Why? Is something wrong?" The wind swirled into the room, whistling gently, and Zelda turned her face towards it, probing gently. The air was alive with the morning dose of magic, and Zelda lifted her hand to catch it as she always felt a bright surge of magic burst out of her palm, and a sharp wind surged away from her toward the window. The curtains blew aside, and the windowpane shook slightly at the impact. Zelda yanked her hand back in alarm, and Pipit choked out a gasp.

"My magic!" Zelda squeaked and locked her arms around her pillow, seeking comfort. "I-I...that was all me! I haven't even gathered today!"

Pipit was still staring at Zelda's hand, and he gulped helplessly on air, trying to get a deep breath.

"That wind!" Zelda breathed, crawling closer to Pipit, her wool blanket pooling in her lap. "That was me! I didn't even have to do anything, it just flowed right out!"

"Zelda," Pipit croaked. "You have to go see the Deku Tree."

Zelda swung her legs around and bounced off the bed, opening her hands and picturing the heat she normally gathered from the sun. Flames flared to life in each of her palms, and Zelda crowed in amazement, her heart pounding in excitement. "Look! I just did that! I made fire on my own!"

"Zel, slow down, you've got to go to the forest!" Pipit said a little louder, but Zelda spun around the room, her little flames trailing brightly from each of her hands.

"Pipit, this is wonderful! I can do so much more! This changes everything, I can-"

"Zelda!" Pipit lunged forward and roughly grabbed Zelda's wrists, and Zelda broke off, startled. The little torches in her hands were quickly extinguished as Zelda stared curiously at her employer.

"Zelda, you're right. This changes everything." Pipit loosened his grip and slid his hands down to grasp Zelda's. "You have to go see the Deku Tree in the Lost Woods."

"The...the what tree?" Zelda repeated, frowning. "The Lost Woods? Pipit, what are you talking about?"

Pipit took a shuddering breath. He turned over Zelda's right hand, and the triangle symbol came back into view. Zelda was caught by its beauty once again until Pipit squeezed her hand none too gently, his fingers curling around hers.

"Do you know what this is? This symbol?"

Zelda smiled softly, still staring at the golden triangle. "No. Should I? I mean, of course I should, it's on my hand-"

"Zel," Pipit interrupted gently. "I need you to listen very closely to what I'm going to tell you and wait to ask questions, all right?"

Zelda looked up curiously at Pipit, her stomach clenching nervously. She had never seen Pipit so serious. "O-okay."

Pipit nodded once and pulled Zelda gently back to her bed, and they sat together on the edge.

"There are ancient powers in Hyrule that the goddesses give to someone special when we need extra help," Pipit began softly, "Legends speak of mages and warriors blessed with special abilities to counter evil forces." He released Zelda's hand and pointed to the triangle on the back of her right hand. Zelda noticed he was careful not to touch it. "This symbol is called the triforce, and it's a mark of that power."

"The what?"

Link knocked softly on his sister's door, listening for the anticipated "Come in!" Instead, Link only heard silence. He knocked again, louder this time, and leaned closer.

"Aryll? Are you in there?"

He heard a gasp of surprise and a muffled curse before his sister's gruff voice rang out.

"Come in, sorry!"

Link grinned and pushed the door open. "And here I was thinking you'd never forget our afternoon tea."

Aryll was just rising from her position on her window seat, a book clutched in her hands and an annoyed glint in her eyes.

"Oh please, like you haven't lost track of time reading before," she huffed, shoving her book into Link's chest before moving to the fireplace to start the water boiling. Link chuckled and glanced around his sister's room before settling into a chair beside the fire.

"You didn't let the servants in to clean yet, did you?" He said smartly. Aryll's bed was rumpled with blankets, and her nightgown lay in a heap on the bureau next to it. Her hairbrush and comb looked oddly out of place on her vanity next to all the jewels and headpieces, but Link knew Aryll often kicked the servants out when she wanted to read alone, so he wasn't surprised to see the state of her living quarters.

"Of course not," Aryll scoffed, grabbing the tea kettle and shaking it slightly. There was a distinct lack of sloshing as Aryll went on, "I wasn't going to stop reading just so they could tidy up. I do live here, you know." Then she frowned accusingly at Link as she held up the kettle. "It's empty."

"Well, I suppose you'd better fill it up then." Link rested the book on his knee and stretched his hands behind his head, grinning glibly.

Aryll raised an eyebrow. "You're the Prince here, aren't you supposed to serve the Princess?"
"I just sat down, Aryll," Link pointed out, "You've been sitting here all day. You need the exercise."

Aryll rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll be right back. Don't touch anything." The princess strode across the room and disappeared into the hallway.

Link quickly picked up the book his sister had been reading and flipped it open to her bookmark. Smirking, he lifted the piece of cloth out and flicked back several pages before slipping it back into the book. He moved to close it, proud of his prank, but his name on the page caught his eye. Confused, he peered closer and read,

In preparation for the final battle, Link prayed at each of the spiritual springs and infused the Master Sword with fire from each of the Dragons. The Sword urged him not to delay, so he hurried back to the Temple of Time only to find-

Link snapped the book closed and took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding in his chest. He glanced down at the title of the book and saw that it was the final book of the Legends of the first great hero of Hyrule, the Hero of Skyloft.

The door creaked open, and Aryll returned, the kettle clutched in both hands now.

"Cook says hello," she said shortly, striding to the fireplace and hanging the kettle on the fireplace hook. "Although he asks that you stop stealing his pies from the window."

"Why are you reading this?" Link asked abruptly, holding up the book in his right hand.

Aryll paused and turned away from the fire to stare at her book clenched in Link's hand. "The Legends of Skyloft? Because I like reading legends?"

Link gritted his teeth, shaking the book slightly. "Aryll, this is the sort of thing that Father just eats up. That's why he hasn't let me train with a sword. Why he hasn't let anyone train with a sword."

Aryll rolled her eyes and snatched the book away from her brother. "Oh, grow up, Link! It's not history's fault that Father's afraid of the Master Sword losing its power."

"Then whose fault is it?" Link countered, agitatedly following Aryll back over to her bookshelf. "All the Links in your legends had the Master Sword too."

"And you'd know if you read any of them that very few of them misused the Master Sword!" Aryll retorted, bending to slide the book back into its place in the set. Link growled at the sight of all of Aryll's books; at least half of them were ancient legends surrounding the Links and Zeldas of the past. Angrily, he yanked a handful of them off the shelves, and they clattered to the floor.

"Link!" Aryll rounded on her brother, her eyes flashing. "Stop! Those are mine! Just because you're mad at Father doesn't mean you can trash my things!"

"It's all he talks about!" Link yelled, brandishing one book above his head before tossing it on the floor with the others. "If only you were like the Hero of Twilight or the Hero of Lorule, then you could fight with the Sword! But he refuses to even let me draw it!"

"But that doesn't stop you!" Aryll cried, jabbing him accusingly in the chest, forcing Link back a step. "No, you go behind his back using not only swords, but the Master Sword itself for nothing but training! If anyone's going to misuse the Sword of Evil's Bane, it's going to be you!"

Link glowered at his sister, and Aryll's face paled as she realized what she'd said. Link felt a fury burning in his throat, and he turned sharply on his heel toward the door. "Forgive me, I must return to my training."

"No wait!" Aryll's voice was contrite, and she latched onto Link's arm before he could leave. "I-I'm sorry Link, I didn't mean that. Please, let's just have some tea."

"Oh, I think your meaning came across quite well," Link hissed, and he jerked his arm out of her grip and stalked toward the door. He heard Aryll sigh before he pushed open the door and slammed it shut behind him. The Sword on his back jabbed him in the back of the head as he turned too quickly, and he pushed it aside in frustration.

"This is all your fault," he muttered over his shoulder. "Why couldn't you just have stayed in the stone?"

Strangely, the Master Sword said nothing, and Link grunted sourly before spinning to face the hallway.

The legends of the triforce and the Master Sword were all the kingdom could talk about as of late, particularly because there was a new guardian of the powerful weapon. When the dark shadows of malice struck Hyrule, the legends spoke of a mighty warrior, trained up in the ways of Kings and swordsmanship, who would conquer the darkness. He was to be accompanied by a mystical sorcerer who had all three magics of Hyrule at their disposal and the sacred cleansing power of the goddess Hylia Herself. Together, they would dispel the malice and bring Hyrule back into a reign of peace.

Link was sick of it. He was sick of everyone watching his every training session, tournament, and speech to see if he would be that warrior. He was sick of the extra training in politics his father insisted upon to ensure he was taught adequately to take the throne. He was sick of his father's rules about the sacred nature of the Master Sword and how he couldn't fight with it until the malice revealed itself.

But mostly he was sick of the sword resisting him. He was the guardian, why wouldn't it fight for him? Link was determined to be the best swordsman he could be—not because of the prophecy, but to show his father how irrational it was to ban sword fighting. He would protect himself. He would protect them all.

"Prince Link?" Link jerked back against Aryll's door at the sound of his name, but he relaxed at the sight of his regular sparring partner.

"Milo," Link grumbled, his temper still kindled. "I can't practice right now, I'm busy."

Milo grinned. "You're just leaving afternoon tea, right?. All that plushy tea talk.." He shrugged his right shoulder, which supported his simple soldier's spear, and he winked slyly. "Seems like the perfect time for a fight."

Link's scowl deepened, and he stormed past his friend back towards his own room. "Leave me alone."

Milo scoffed and chased after his friend, his nobleman's tunic fluttering around his neck. "What happened this time? I feel like you're always upset these days."

Link clenched his jaw and turned on his sparring partner. "Yeah. It's this cursed sword. I'm supposed to be the great hero, but I can't even fight with it?"

Milo groaned, running a hand over his face. "Not this again! Those are just legends, Link. Why are you getting so worked up over this?"

"Worked up?" Link laughed bitterly. "Milo, it's hard enough being the Prince of a superstitious kingdom, especially when your name is the same as every other Hylian hero. It's another thing for people to judge me and my decisions."

Milo clicked his tongue in sympathy. "Decisions, huh? Is it something the Princess said?"

Link glared at his partner and crossed his hands over his chest. "I don't want to talk about it."

Milo smirked, resting his hands on his hips and peering closer to lock eyes with Link. "That bad, huh? Don't worry about it, sisters always say the worst stuff just because they're your sister." Then his eyes caught on something over Link's shoulder, and his grin faded. He stiffened and forced a friendly smile.

"Kinetic Venna. Lovely to see you."

Link spun around and met eyes with the Castle's Royal Kinetic Mage Venna. The woman drew her robes around her figure and smiled warmly at the two young men.
"Good afternoon, Milo, Prince Link." She inclined her head, her dark curly hair tumbling down in front of her face. "How do you fare?"

"Ah...well enough, Kinetic." Milo looked sideways at Link, who glared back at him. "We were just heading out to get some practice."

Venna nodded wisely, her smile widening. "It is a lovely day for practice. Although..." She shot a curious look over her shoulder, and Link resisted the urge to peer behind her. Venna extended her palm, her gaze focused. Link's stomach churned as he caught sight of a crisp red apple floating through the air toward Venna's outstretched hand. Milo's jaw dropped, and Venna's eyes relaxed as the fruit landed in his palm.

"There's always room for more practice," Venna finished, a mysterious smile on her lips. Link stared at the apple, nauseated, until Venna slipped the apple into an inner pocket of her bulky robe.

"Of course, Kinetic Venna," Milo stammered, his eyes wide. The mage bowed again before striding past the two boys. Link couldn't take his eyes off the bulging pocket until Venna disappeared around the corner.

"Hylia," Milo swore, running a hand through his coppery brown hair. "I've never seen a Kinetic use their power up close before."

"It makes me ill," Link said quietly. "It's unnatural for someone to move something with their mind, even if they expend their physical strength."

Milo's face paled. "Wait, you mean you know how that works? Who told you?" Milo looked at him sideways. "Don't tell me you've made friends with any mages."

"Of course not," Link retorted, his anger rising as he thought of anyone who had been blessed by the goddesses. "It's just my stupid lessons with my father. I've had to study all the magics. It's such a waste of time."

"So..." Milo shuffled his feet and stared at his feet. "How does Kinetic Magic work? You said it expends their physical strength?"

Link scowled suspiciously at his friend before returning his gaze to the hallway that Kinetic Venna had disappeared down. "Yes. Their life force is what's connected to their magic instead of a magic core like a Forager, or the materials and crystals of a Summoner. Look, I don't want to talk about it. You know how I feel about magic."

"That's right, they've been hounding you about it all week. All the magic and prophecy talk lately hasn't helped things with the goddesses, huh?" Milo grinned and clapped a hand on Link's shoulder.

Link growled. "Shut up, Milo. Go find Master Horwell if you really want to pick a fight with someone. I'm going to lie down."

Link ignored Milo's sputtering and strode quickly to his bedroom. He yanked open the heavy wooden door and slammed it behind him. Taking a deep breath, he ripped the Master Sword from its scabbard and lunged forward, letting out a cry. Almost immediately the sword seemed to jerk down in Link's hand, and he stumbled over the tip, coming to rest in front of an old tapestry his father had insisted be placed in his room. It was old and frayed, but Link could still pick out the bright green cap of a legendary warrior and the shining, white light of a powerful mage. They stood together, the glowing blue sword held up to threaten a huge, bulky pig-faced demon, its maw hung open to reveal huge tusks.

Link eyed the tapestry maliciously, the anger in his heart growing. Things were different now; the restrictions on the kingdom practically thwarted the use of the Master Sword in battle. His emotions still running high, he lifted the Master Sword and slashed through the tapestry, the fabric shearing between the warrior and the mage.

Cheers! I don't know if I have anything to say about this, but I'd love to hear if you do! Leave a review if you're so inclined!