Fan Fiction Friday: The Era Without A Hero – Part 12

“I’m getting to leave the castle?!” Zelda could hardly contain her excitement.

“You’re going on a pilgrimage to visit one of the guardian deities,” Impa sighed. “This isn’t a vacation.”

“Of course not! It’s a dangerous road because of what happened. It’ll be a chance to learn so much of what the world is like. And with you at my side I-“

“I am not going.”

Zelda wrinkled her face in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“I am to oversee military exercises and ensure their battle readiness.”

There was a noticeable silence as Zelda took in Impa’s words and tried to wrap her head around the situation. Impa had been alongside Zelda for as long as she could remember. Everything about combat, manners, and life in general had been taught to her by Impa.

“I see.” Zelda sat down on the edge of her bed and let her shoulders slump.

Impa looked back towards the door, closed it a little, and approached, taking a seat next to the Princess. The strong Sheikah leader gently took Zelda’s hand and let a rare smile creep across her face.

“You are already strong, Princess. I have confidence in all that I’ve taught you. I know that you’ll do well when you’re out there. Please, though, mind Lord Fado’s words and the advice of the young knight. Though I am not pleased with the decision myself, your mother and father seem to believe in them.”

“The young knight. Is he the one from the tournament?”

“Indeed, he is.”

“Of course, he is,” Zelda huffed. “Why not a knight with some experience under his belt? Why not Sir Ralphine? Or Master Liam even?”

“Sir Ralphine sailed home two weeks ago to request aid for Hyrule. Master Liam hasn’t been in contact since that night. And all the more experienced knights are either scouting for Adok or assigned to my garrison.”

Zelda went quiet, slouching her shoulders and leaning against Impa a little.

“It will be fine.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself of that, or me?”

Impa let out a small laugh, “Both.”

They remained silent for a while longer until some servants entered with bags for packing a few of the Princess’s things. Impa gave them directions while Zelda remained on the edge of the bed and stared off into nothing. When they were done, Impa bid Zelda goodnight and followed the attendants out.

It will be fine.

Impa’s words echoed in Zelda’s head as she walked out on the balcony and looked down at the city. The cool night air gave her a slight chill, but one she enjoyed. As she leaned on the railing and looked at the courtyard down below, she caught a glimpse of a figure moving across the grounds.

Zelda recognized the hood as one given to the knights, but this young man wasn’t armed. He didn’t have anything with him, as far as she could tell, and as he passed through the gate, he seemed to stumble with issuing the proper salute.

It will be fine.

*          *          *          *          *

The sun had just set a few hours ago, and though he knew he should, Osmond couldn’t rest. He had spent several hours visiting shops with Fado and a few knights, getting him outfitted with the best gear he ever imagined. When it came to arming and defending the Knights of Hyrule, discounts were always available.

A sturdy new shield emblazoned with an eagle on the bottom and the Triforce on the top. His tunic that he’d been given looked similar to the one Adwin handed on to him. It was a dark green, with a collar and simple string to cinch it shut in poor weather. Along with that, a hooded cloak that shone the Triforce on its center and could further protect him in various conditions. Fresh trousers and boots that were tailored to him on the spot were also standard issue.

For a sword though, he was issued a loaner short sword in addition to his own personal blade. The Royal Blacksmith though, told him that he would have the personalized sword waiting for him when he returned from the forest. Osmond didn’t like parting with the gift his mentor had given him but trusted the smith.

Osmond awkwardly saluted the guards as he departed the castle in the cool evening air. He didn’t know what was coming for him in the morning and beyond, so he wanted to take what could be his last night and visit places familiar to him.

Even though the hour was late, there were still many people milling about in the city streets. Some parts of the city seemed to have returned to normal, with children playing outside and friendly gatherings in the streets.

As he walked the streets of Castletown with his new Knight’s clothing though, he felt stronger and knew something had changed. He had changed.

He felt the envious eyes of young children longing to be him and women longing for him. Others simply nodded their head at him in gratitude, as if he’d done some great deed already. He didn’t feel like he had though. He had only done what he had been taught to do by his teacher. The feeling began to change into guilt.

Guilt that it was he, not Aldwin, wearing the crest of the Knights of Hyrule. Guilt that his uncle would now be left without an apprentice. Guilt that overwhelmed him and turned his feet unknowingly towards the Coliseum.

When he arrived at the crater, he was surprised to see that the statue of the Hero of Time was still standing. The arena beyond it was now a dusty and hollow pit, bearing the violent evidence of the earth splitting. However, what was more surprising was his uncle kneeling before the statue.

“Uncle Henry…”

“I figured you’d make your way over here once you had a chance to get away,” Henry remained at the base of the statue. “Lotsa folk sayin’ that because this statue survived the attack, it’s a sign that he’s comin’ back.”

Osmond knelt down beside his uncle.

“Do you believe that?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, “never been one to put too much faith in swords and what not though, so I doubt it.”

Osmond bowed his head and quietly prayed to the Goddesses. He could hear his uncle doing the same. It was beyond something he ever thought would come to pass. The devastation that lay beyond, the statute, what he had gone through. The most surreal part though, was that his uncle seemed unchanged by the whole occasion.

“Your father once asked me why I never became a knight,” Henry broke the silence. It was rare he talked about Osmond’s parents, even when Osmond was younger and relentlessly asked about them. “He’d say, ‘Henry, you’re a strong man and would do anything to protect your family. Why not take up the blade and defend everyone?’ Course I’d always have the same answer. Soldiers gotta have a place to sit when they come back. If I go and get myself killed, there ain’t gonna be no chairs.”

Osmond cracked a smile.

“They were simpler times,” Henry smirked, lifting his heavy eyes to his nephew. “Osmond, if your father could have heard what you done… He’d have been so proud.”

Osmond looked away.

“Your mum too. She’d have been sore with you, but proud. I’m proud too. I knew you’d been training and what not with Aldwin, and I saw your match. You’re a damn fine swordsman Osmond.”

Osmond felt a lump well in his throat as Henry put an arm around him.

“I can’t say I don’t want you to stay. But I know this is your dream and now your duty. There will always be a chair for you lad. I swear it.”

Osmond threw his arms around Henry and felt a burden erased. Nothing but acceptance and peace overwhelmed him.

After a few minutes, they rose together and headed to a nearby tavern. They shared a few ales and talked about old stories. Some they knew, some had been hidden, and some forgotten. They laughed and smiled and cried late into the night.

When the barkeep came to tell them that it was time to leave, the two finished their pints then walked to the carpentry shop where they went inside. Osmond retrieved a few personal items from his room and then came back down.

Henry stood with a large item covered in a dusty old sheet.

“What’s that?”

“Your father… had this on him the night he and your mother passed away. He would have wanted you to have it.”

Osmond pulled the sheet away and held his breath.

It was a sturdy shield with a flat top that curved to a point at its bottom. Dark amber wood made up the central part of it, with red painted iron around the outside and crossing in an X across the middle. There were three long scratches that stretched across the face of the shield, but they looked like they’d been repaired somewhat since its final use.

“I spent many nights trying to get those claw marks out,” Henry’s voice was strained as he looked down at the shield. “Eventually I made it usable again, but never was able to get the color right.”

Osmond placed his hand in the middle of the shield and smiled up at his uncle. As he lifted the gift, he embraced his uncle and they let the moment rest.

“Thank you.”

“Be safe lad.”

*          *          *          *          *

Osmond left his Uncle’s about an hour before dawn. A light fog lingered over the city as Osmond navigated his way towards the Temple of Time. Instead of going in though, he made his way past one of the reflecting pools and into a secluded area. Through an arbor of white flowers, he emerged in a large garden that held a solemn purpose.

With the crickets still singing their nighttime songs, Osmond walked quietly past the headstones of knights and warriors from Hyrule’s history. His feet came to a stop when he found the still fresh plot that belonged to his mentor and friend.

Osmond opened his mouth to speak but found himself unable to make a sound. Instead, he knelt down and ran his fingers across the engraved stone.

This Warrior’s journey was wrought with hardships.

But by his blade, and through his sacrifice, Hyrule lives on.

Rest in Peace, Sir Aldwin Knight of Hyrule.

Osmond was about to sit back on his heels and pray, when he heard footsteps approaching from behind. He looked over his shoulder and saw a tall man with thinning gray hair and a few days unshaved face.

“Relax kid,” the man said with a raspy and scratchy voice, “just come to pay my respects too.”

Osmond noticed the Knight’s Crest somewhat obscured by his flowing gray coat as the man came to a stop before the grave. He reached into his cloak and pulled a silver flask out, then took hard sip from it.

“So, you’re the one?”

“The one?”

“The kid Aldie trained. The one who saved the princess.”

Osmond looked up at the man, “I am. Who are you?”

The man took another hard sip from the flask, then reached it out over Aldwin’s headstone. He turned it and poured a shot of it down on the stone, then closed it and put it back in his pocket.

“Sorry it took so long,” he said, ignoring Osmond’s question.

“Who are you?” Osmond asked again.

“Don’t matter,” the man turned and began to walk away. When he was a few paces away, he stopped and turned back to Osmond. “A word of advice. Work on countering attacks from your left. He always struggled with that.”

With that, the man turned and continued out of the graveyard. Osmond watched the man and gave a moment’s thought to going after him. He stopped though when he looked up to a nearby clock tower and saw that dawn was going to be breaking soon. He gave Aldwin one last prayer, then rose and made for the Royal Stables behind the Temple of Time.