1) Sword

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⚔ In which Link pulls the Master Sword ⚔

Zelda

I hate this time of year.

Me and father have been traveling for a day and a half, with the new knight recruits. A bunch of heathens, they are. Always yelling and taking any opportunity to spar, taunt, or fight each other. I'm fairly sure the horses are about ready to start a revolt and buck their riders to the road. I wouldn't be opposed to this revolt, either. They might have my full support.

We are heading to the Temple of Time, for the yearly occasion when the new knights in training come to attempt to pull the Sword That Seals the Darkness. No knight has ever come close to pulling the sword out, and after about a moment they all pass out. A few determined ones come close to death. Me and father have to stand over them and watch.

I've tried to say we should bring in any young people to the Temple. What if the Sword's master isn't in the recruits? What if they are but a lowly farmer's boy? But my ideas fall on deaf ears, as they usually do.

Finally, we make it to the Temple around mid-day. Father orders the boys to clean up a bit before heading inside the building, and to go in with the utmost respect. I hide a scoff. Like these boys know anything about respect.

Except one. Link, the Captain of the Guard's only son. He's the only one who fully listens to the king, who didn't cat-call me on the road, the only one who came into the Temple that afternoon with the respect my father demanded. Sure, he sparred and joked with the other boys at the stable and on the road, but when it was most important, he gave his attention. I could see the pride in Arn's face as Link walked in with the rest.

And not only that, but the young boy was skilled. Very skilled. His father taught him well. Link was well versed in archery and war-statistics, hand-to-hand combat and combat with any kind of blade. He out fought, out smarted, and out shined everyone in his age group, and even some above him. I couldn't help but find his determination to carry on his father's legacy admirable. He was destined to be something great one day, and when we grow up, I hope he won't mind working for me. No doubt I'd need his skills.

A few nobles line the walls of the Temple, some with sons in the group of recruits, some with obligations to attend. I stood in front of the Temple, behind the dais that holds the Sword in the stone, and behind the statue of the Goddess looming over us all, watching the ceremony take place. Arn stood nearby, ready to call attention and begin the ceremony.

Arn calls the name of the first boy, and a stalky boy walks up with so much confidence I actually think for a moment he might pull the sword. But then I remember that strength is not the part of this that matters, and that this boy will probably fall like all the rest.

I'm not at all surprised when he grips the hilt of the sword and turns instantly pale, and his whole body begins to shake violently. He lets go and is almost sent flying backward, like being rejected wasn't enough, the sword wanted him to go away.

It went on like that for too long. Young boy after young boy stepped up to try and pull the sword, but to no avail. Healers are called for a few; some are pulled off the pedestal by friends or family. Some let go after a few moments, knowing they couldn't do it, to begin with.

I finally began to pay careful attention again when I heard Arn's voice shake. He took a deep breath, holding the scroll of names.

"Link, please step up to the pedestal."

I didn't realize Arn would have to watch his son attempt to pull the Sword. He would have to watch the life get sucked out of his only son for a stupid prophecy. I waited in anticipation as Link walked up to the pedestal and glanced at his father. Arn gave a slight nod.

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