Awakening to the Night

Windfall Island, a gem in the midst of the rough water of the Eastern Sea—even from a distance the city glowed merrily on the waters, the windmills turning slowly as a smooth breeze passed through the city on its way across the ocean. The island was not particularly large, but still the Hylians who inhabited it had used practically every space possible, building large structures all the way to the water’s edge. Ships anchored for the night and children returned to their homes, but still others strolled the streets, enjoying the salty air of the evening.

Atop a wooden balcony facing the eternal ocean to the east, a lone woman in a pearly white dress gazed across the waters like she did every night when it didn’t storm. If you had asked her, she likely could not have explained why she did it, but it was clear she waited for something. A husband long lost at sea? A corked bottle carrying a letter from a stranger? A long lost bird to come fluttering in and land on the railing? She couldn’t have said, and neither could anyone else.

For a long while she stood silent and complacent, but after a time she bit her lip with vexation. Again, as with every evening, that feeling of waiting for something was ever-present. That sinking feeling of disappointment filled her heart, sinking it slowly in her chest, and she brushed her unusually reddish hair away from her face, as if that were in the way from seeing something important. With a sigh of sadness, the woman turned away from the waters, pausing for one last moment as if that would be when it happened. No, not this evening, it seemed. She closed the door behind her, sliding back into her apartment’s quarters.

The room was dark now, nothing lit since the sun had begun to retreat. With a wave of her hand, the woman magically lit a dozen different candles across the room with great precision, giving them a small smile for shining brightly back at her as always. Crossing the room pensively, the woman picked up a familiar pictograph showing her with another, younger girl with a fair face and blonde hair. Her sister, the woman recalled, though she had not seen her in years. Something always seemed wrong with that thought, but she could never put her finger on it. A friend she missed. That felt more appropriate than the last thought. But why?

The candles in the room flickered, and the woman spun quickly, the hairs on her neck rising, and a moment later all the candles extinguished themselves. She nearly dropped the picture in her hands. ”Wh-who’s there?” she began to say, but the words felt flat as another sound invaded her company: a rattling at the door, like someone trying to get in. Not just any door, the balcony door. With a quivering hand, the woman placed the picture down quietly, tip-toeing across to the door that continued to rattle softly. Standing several feet back, she reached forth with magic and pulled the handle, flinging it open.

As if a star had come down from heaven, a light brighter than anything in the night stood suspended above her balcony. But before she could so much as consider the thing it was on the move again, flying through her doorway and into her chest. She expelled all air in her lungs in one burst as the brilliant light sent her sprawling across the floor. Gasping for breath, the woman crawled against a wall, trying to escape the words booming in her ears, but even as she did her vision faded, and her mind was taken to somewhere she had long since chosen to forget.

She was with her sister. No, not her sister—that wasn’t who that woman was. Zelda, princess of all Hyrule, stood before her with saddened eyes. Five years ago, the woman knew, in the princess’s own chambers in Hyrule Castle. Emotion charged the air, but she knew she had to be strong in this situation, to do what neither of them wished to do.

For the last ten years, she had watched over Princess Zelda, protected her and taught her everything she knew. The two were as close as sisters, but both knew that as Zelda reached a proper age it could no longer be that way. The danger of two sages being so close to each other when the enemy still lurked in Death Mountain was too much, and she would finally step away from her role until Zelda chose to call every sage back to their places.

“Must it be this way?” the young princess asked quietly, sorrow stricken across her face. They both knew the answer to that. Still, the older woman nodded solemnly, replying with all the resolve she could muster.

“It must. Do it now, I am ready to let them go.”

Zelda sighed before drawing in a tight breath and reaching her hands up to the taller woman’s temples, placing her finger tips gently on them and speaking smoothly, “Then by your choice, I release and reserve your memories and mandate. Be vigilant for my call, Veran.”

Veran gasped, her eyes opening suddenly in her room again, the candles alight once more. Staring out into the night’s sky through her open door, the woman watched as a large black cloud approached slowly from the east, the last words of Zelda’s message still ringing in her ears.

“I reapply your charge and mandate to the land of Hyrule as the Sage of Spirit, to act as a good steward over these lands in the face of certain danger.

I will see you soon,

Safety be with you always.”