30: Twilight

No kingdom built upon the suffering of others was eternal. Wars could lead to new territory and new subjects, to be sure, but history could be repeated even if it was erased. There was no force, in Hyrule or beyond, powerful enough to defeat destiny itself. Yes, Zelda knew that all too well now.

She had hoped to preserve as many memories of her kingdom as possible, reflecting on how she intended to incorporate the Sheikari into Hyrule’s history as she gazed upon the castle’s ruins. She remembered how she and her father had stood in the library so long ago, how they both seemed to enter it at the exact same time that day.

“This was mother’s favorite place,” she had said quietly, as if speaking too loud would disturb the moment. Her father had remained still for a while, his eyes slowly working their way around the room, taking in all of its contents. To most people, it had always seemed like there were more books here than could possibly be read, but Zelda was certain that she, like her mother, had gone through them all at least once.

“Your mother…” he had taken an uncharacteristically deep breath. “You know that your mother was once a member of the Gerudo tribe? We never spoke of it, but you must know the truth.”

Zelda had scrunched her face up in confusion. “Why of course, father! I get my blue eyes from her, after all!”

The king had sighed, shaking his head. “She had always wanted me to establish an alliance with the Gerudo, yet I always refused.”

“Why?”

“Because…” the king had turned to face her, his expression returning to its usual pointed sallowness. “Because…well my darling…because they would forsake our way of life, and we cannot allow that.”

“Your Highness, have you decided?”

Zelda blinked, returning from the memory. Impa addressed her so formally now, and Zelda accepted this would be their dynamic moving forward. After all that she’d learned, all that she’d uncovered, she knew Impa wouldn’t be able to step away from the shame Zelda now chose to shoulder. 

The sky above them was adorned with golden clouds that would soon fade to purple as nighttime quickly advanced upon them. The crows had already begun their evening concerts, and the breeze had picked up just enough to scatter the leaves into the air. It was a beautiful day, even if she couldn’t truly see it.

Zelda turned to look at Impa, then down at the other Hyrulean knights who’d gathered to serve as her escort towards the castle ruins. The townspeople had started to congregate near the gates, a mixture of humans, Gorons, Zora, and even the Kokiri, who many thought incapable of venturing outside of the forest.

Some of those forest children were playing with the adults, while others were exploring the nearby moat. Saria sat close by, entertaining a small flock of townspeople with the songs that danced out of her ocarina. Zelda wondered if they would remain outside of the forest or eventually return. She wondered if that was even possible now.

“I believe the Gerudo truly have departed from the desert and left Hyrule,” she sighed and shook her head. “We can delay no longer, Impa. The people are waiting.”

Impa nodded as she took out a large box covered in a velvet cloth, lifting it up for Zelda to see. Impa then uncovered it, though Zelda knew what it was the moment she’d laid eyes on it.

“Your father’s crown,” Impa bowed as she held the box in her outstretched hands. “We managed to find it amongst the rubble.”

Zelda nodded slowly, her hand shaking as she took it from Impa. It was much heavier than she’d expected, further weighed down with the enormous undertaking placed before her. Beyond that, this was all she had left of her father to remember him by. Still, she would choose to find the resolve within the storm that now raged inside her.

“We must meet them now,” she announced, and with that, they set off towards the castle gates.

The knights of Hyrule, seeing her approach, knelt before her in respect, as they began to flank her on either side. Zelda could feel the eyes of the people upon her as she began to walk, the weight of their expectations pressing down upon her. 

She would be who they turned to in order to see them through this dark time. They deserved to know what the future held, and they also deserved to know the dark past her father had tried to bury.

She would not fault the Gerudo for departing Hyrule, for deciding they did not belong under the watchful gaze of the Golden Goddesses. There had been moments where Zelda herself wasn’t sure she still belonged here, the first moment being when she held Link’s funeral in Kakariko Village, the second when she’d received news of Ganondorf’s banishment into the Twilight Realm. It had been decided he would be executed, but he had withstood the might of the divine sword, clinging to life as a glowing Triforce symbol appeared on his hand.

The Goddesses had chosen him after all.

Zelda froze in her tracks, her escort following suit with confused murmurs as they waited for her to move. Yet, she could have sworn she heard a faint whistle in the distance. No, a song of some sort. Perhaps it was a melody used to call horses back to their owners.

“What is it, Your Highness?” a nearby knight asked.

Zelda turned to face the direction of Kokiri Forest, noticing how the approaching dusk made it seem darker than usual. Yet, there was one patch of grass where a sunbeam shone down as if the light had been searching for that particular spot. 

Standing in the beam’s glow was a figure, faint and hard to make out from her position. His golden armor gleamed in the sunlight, its red markings growing more familiar by the second. He clutched a longsword in his left hand and a round, golden shield in the other. Zelda could just make out his face when a glare from the setting sun obscured her vision.

Shielding her eyes, she looked again, but the figure was gone. Yet, in his place now stood a massive golden wolf, its one red eye burning into her. Without warning, it turned and sprinted off into the woods, snatching the sunbeam away as it fled.

“Your Highness, what was it?” Impa’s voice was filled with a reluctant, measured amount of concern.

Zelda hesitated before turning to face the castle ruins once again.

“Perhaps one day I will know,” she said. “Yes, perhaps one day I will know once and for all.”