LOZ:Twilight Princess:Prologue

THE LEGEND OF ZELDA: TWILIGHT PRINCESS


[BEFORE YOU READ: This is a note in which I would just like to say that Twilight Princess was the first Zelda title to make me want to write the adventure. There are things that will be different from the video game in this adaptation. For a highlight of these items, please read the artist’s comments below.]


---- Prologue: Of Symbols and Whispers


The soothing sounds of the spring lulled the sun in the evening sky above to sink into slumber. As the mass of brightness dwindled behind the clouds, a young ranch hand and a blacksmith sat admiring the peace. A burdened red horse with a glowing white mane sat behind them. It seemed the goddesses had painted the red and purple hues with their mighty brushes in the simplest harmony. Even frogs upon their lilies moaned in agreement, their croaks echoing into the stillness.
  
This was when life in the Ordon province seemed the simplest, even though it was an already simple existence. There was no rush in heavy streets, no yelling townsfolk, no ill circumstance. The trees shadowed the lives of the people, their soft whispers an unchallengeable melody of wind and leaf. There, sitting at the spirit spring, was a moment that gave another bright moment of tranquility and deterred them from their chore, yet late as it was becoming, they assured themselves there was time for this relaxation.

But it was at that time that the blacksmith, a stout-chinned man in his middle years, spoke out to the youth that sat beside him. “Tell me, Link…. Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls? They say it’s the only time when our world intersects with theirs, the only time we can feel the lingering regrets of spirits who have left our world.” He breathed deeply, thinking it over. Then he spoke softly, “That is why loneliness always pervades the hour of twilight.”

The fair-haired youth looked to him then, a glimmering wonder glazing his crystal blue eyes. His mentor always seemed so full of life even in his older age, and his sudden weariness at the dark hour troubled him. He rarely heard him speak so.

But the blacksmith shifted his focus, “Enough of this talk, though…. Link, I have a favor to ask. I’ve talked it over with the Mayor, and, although it was my duty ... I want you to take Ordon’s gift to Hyrule Castle. A sword and a shield; to be presented to the royal family.” The blacksmith took a moment before continuing, in which the young man aside him immersed himself in a dream of discovering the world that had so long been unknown to him. “You’ve never been to Hyrule in your lifetime, I know, but, Link, it is a wondrous place. The other provinces and villages are quite delightful, full of life, full of people of various occupations and interests. I want you to experience it.”

The blacksmith flashed a suggestive smile, “And perhaps you’ll be lucky enough to meet the princess herself!”

From that proposition, Link fell into a world of fantasy. What would it be to visit other villages, to meet other people who shared in his beliefs, to ascend the honorable steps of Hyrule Castle, to meet Princess Zelda? The possibilities of such a journey sparked a new life within him, and he found himself looking to his left hand. On its back there bore a symbol of three darkened triangles. All through his life in Ordon he had wondered what this figure meant. How had such a mark branded him? He could not remember. And who were his parents? Why did they leave him to this place? He did not know. Yet he wished with all his heart for the answers to fall upon him.

In that moment, the blacksmith rose and brushed off his backside. “Well, come on then, Link, best get these bundles into town before Epona falls asleep here.”

With some reluctance, Link pulled himself up from his earthly chair and took hold of Epona’s reins. He called for her to rise and she obediently dragged herself from her own thoughtful wonderings.

On the way back to the village all Link could think about was this journey upon which he would soon embark. They crossed over the bridge that linked their homes to Hyrule and passed through the rocky cliffs that adjoined to another spring. Link heard a faint whisper. The back of his hand burned suddenly, but he gave no indication of this to Rusl the blacksmith who walked idly in front of him.

Rubbing away the soft pain, Link nonchalantly turned his head in the direction of the spring, but whatever had called out, there it remained no longer. Concluding that the noise had been the frail voice of the dying wind, Link continued onward into Ordon.