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By GlassGazer

Romance / Action

In the Beginning

"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. ²The earth was without form and an empty waste, and darkness was upon the face of the very great deep…" Genesis 1:1-2

Genesis, n: The coming into being of something; the origin.

See also- beginning: the event consisting of the start of something.

Ex: "The beginning of war."

There were only two moments in her life that Zelda could honestly say there wasn't a breeze.

It may seem peculiar to keep track of the wind; for any other it would be. If it weren't for the sole responsibility of a country Zelda wouldn't have picked up on it.

The first time the wind died it was with her father.

On the day of his funeral the lanterns had nothing to propel them over Lake Hylia; it caused quite the controversy. The people whispered that the king's soul was condemned, that the Goddesses had cursed the Harkinian line. It wouldn't be a stretch considering the history of her family. Conspiracies and poorly covered assassination attempts were common for the Royal Family. However, the notion of any curse was terrifying as it would be to any ten year old.

The whispers and gossip only spread when Impa, Zelda's personal guard and last member of the lost Sheikah tribe, disappeared from public eye. Many believed it to be sabotage to the throne. Others gossiped that a scandal between the Sheikah and the late King resulted in the late Queen's mysterious death.

Ludicrous, Zelda would say. It was common knowledge that her mother died in childbirth, and Impa couldn't be more loyal to the throne. There was no possibility that Impa would partake in such a betrayal, to her or her mother. Nevertheless, the nobles couldn't be bothered by a young girl's qualms.

Doubt in the Harkinian rule only grew as the princess did. At the age of fourteen, Zelda was far too serious and outspoken as a lady. Her eyes seemed too cold to hold passion for her people and her hands were too delicate for rule. Nonsense, Zelda would say. She had been trained in the art of the Sheikah, her body was a weapon.

But the people wouldn't listen.

She took up fencing, archery, anything that was appropriate for a lady. In secret she continued her Sheikah training, practicing the motions and warm-ups that Impa had taught her long ago. As she grew stronger by night, her magic prowess was honed by day. Yet despite her efforts, the advisors scolded her for picking up a sword and her maids mocked her behind walls. It seemed as though there was nothing that could please the people of Hyrule.

One afternoon during practice, Zelda succumbed to a vision. She saw the darkness forthcoming, and despite her attempts at alerting her people she was ignored. She worked behind the scenes to manipulate soldier lines and issued a province-wide house arrest. No citizen was to be outside lest they pay the Throne double the amount of taxes. And then the army came.

On that fateful day of Twilight, the wind stilled and Zelda felt her father die all over again.

It was chaos. Despite Zelda's best attempts at preparing for an army, there was only so much an eighteen year old girl could do by herself. Her soldiers fell like paper dolls, the traps curled up around air. She was truly alone this time, for Impa was long ago sent away for her own mission.

When her guard had all but vanished to the country, Zelda had sent Impa away to restore the Sheikah tribe. There were rumors that the surviving Sheikah had fled to the East and it had fallen to the last member to restore her people. Although her guard had refused to leave her side, Impa finally conceded to Her Majesty's wishes. But when Hyrule's final hour had come, Zelda wished Impa had given more of a fight.

Darkness crawled into her throne room and she was given a choice. As she clutched her rapier in one hand, her courage in the other, she decided she would die for her people. She died to self. Harkinians were taught to laugh in the face of death, but as the bearer of wisdom Zelda couldn't afford to be a Harkinian.

Later, Zelda would come to realize this was her defining moment, a ruler's right of passage. But at the time it was all she could do to hold onto her sanity in the perpetual twilight.

It wasn't until she met the Hero and the Princess of Twilight that she understood the humor of the Heavens. The trio of outcasts and peculiars chosen by the Goddesses were all that stood between the darkness and the world.

The final moments of the war all seemed to blur together: Sacrificing herself for Midna, then awakening in the broken throne room. Firing arrow after arrow while balancing precariously on the Hero's horse. Waiting on the sidelines, hoping against all hope Ganondorf would fall, breathing for the first time in what felt like months when he did. Finally, watching the Mirror shatter and with it the light behind the Hero's eyes.

The return to Hyrule castle had been quiet and forlorn. Zelda recalled the stories her father used to tell her at night about the heroes of old and the celebrations after vanquishing the foe. The feasts and songs, and of course, the kiss. Zelda didn't expect a kiss from the Hero, she certainly didn't ask for one either. But when she invited the Hero to stay at the castle, if only to rest up before returning home, he declined.

And so the princess began the arduous task of rebuilding her kingdom. With the help of the Resistance and the able citizens of Hyrule, bridges were rebuilt and pathways were cleared, trade began anew. Even Impa's quest ended in success. The Sheikah people were thriving once again in the Hidden Village, the town no longer silent but lively with children. Impa was thrilled to see Zelda's progress in the Sheikah art.

'Almost as if I've been training you all these years.'

Impa grabbed her hand, red eyes crinkling at corners from her smile. Zelda squeezed the older woman's hand, 'You have been.'

Although she was originally furious at Zelda for not sending for her when the army came, Impa eventually relented but refused to leave her side. With Hyrule Castle almost in running order and Impa as her right hand, Zelda felt a semblance of normality returning.

But this brought her back from her ponderings and to the present.

She sat curled on her windowsill, feet bare and resting against the cool stones chilled by morning. Knees tucked in, arms crossed, and there wasn't a breeze.

And as Zelda had always been told by her father, 'Never ignore the omen that strikes twice, for the third may be your last.'

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