Zelink BotW Sequel/ Legend of Zelda and the Last Knight

Chapter 39 The Hunt

Chapter 39

The Hunt

Back in Simon's tent, another storm of emotion was brewing. Not one filled with bliss and romance, but one of contention and strife.

One of the marshals paced around the tent as the others waited and watched. As he stepped back and forth, he clutched tightly to a parchment. It was the latest report from the aftermath of the battle.

Simon's eyes silently followed his every move as he walked back and forth, keeping time with every stride of his steps, waiting earnestly for the man to finish his accounting. After a few minutes of calculation, the young officer spoke, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and addressed him formally.

"I have the final count, and it's...not good. One hundred...One hundred souls lost."

"Exactly one hundred? Seems a bit on the nose to me. Are you sure?" Simon questioned, taking in the news as he leaned against his war table in the candlelight.

"-Yes, m'lord, and dozens more wounded," clarified the marshal of records as he nervously placed the tally sheet on the ledge table for his liege to see. But before he could, the high-strung lord snatched it from his hold.

The man had no choice but to continue his reckoning as Simon's eyes scanned the report, following along with his every word with scrutinizing detail.

"That number is expected to grow before nightfall as we take more tally of the returning regiments and the missing. We can only presume they are dead somewhere in the city. Not to mention those in the infirmary who might not make it through the night."

Simon jerked to the side of his seat, crumpling up the report, displeased by the outcome, and in a fit, tossed it over his shoulder to the side. Gritting his teeth, he tried his best to bide his temper back and leaned in his chair to face Taleran, standing arms crossed and listening at the other end of the table.

"And what about you? How many of your rangers have sacrificed themselves for the glory of Hyrule's splendor this day?"

"Twenty-seven," replied Taleran with a heavy-hearted sigh.

"So, one hundred and twenty-seven brave men now lie dead, and more to come before this night is even over. What am I to do...?"

"Don't despair, brother!" Assured Sylmoor over his shoulder cheerfully. Simon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sound of him.

His twin continued. "War does not come without its risks. That least even I know. We all know that! Why, I would argue, today was a victory. For a century, the Calamity plagued our peoples, and now that plague has been eradicated from this earth. Casualties are to be expected of war. Are they not?"

Sylmoor leaned forward from behind him and placed his hand on his shoulder only to quickly lift it up skyward in the tent to make a proud fist. "And besides, every tavern from here to Hera this night will sing songs to those men's glory! Their sacrifice will be remembered! From every lowly hall to every grand chamber throughout all the realm, their memory shall live on in celebration. It's not all that bad—"

"—Not that bad?" Snapped Simon, rising from his chair at his wit's end. The sudden slide of his chair stuttering across the tent jerked everyone's attention as it slammed across the way, crashing onto the ground.

Simon's temper boiled over. "Songs, you say? And I suppose you will be just the one to sing it to their grieving widows and mothers! Am I right? I'm sure they would just love to hear about how bravely their sons fought on the battlefield. Right up until the moment they were all slaughtered like lambs, incinerated by the breath of some demonic spawn from hell into a pile of ashy cinders, of which they had no business even warring against in the first place!