Chapter 1: Failure

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failure
n. the inability to do what is expected or required
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"Princess. Eyes forward." A wooden measuring stick came down with a snap on the tabletop.

If Princess Zelda had a rupee for every time she'd been caught staring out the window during sermons with Cleric Ciela...

"I know you often find our time together... dull, but King Rhoam has asked that I prepare you for the Calamity. It is paramount that—"

"—that you awaken your Goddess powers to prevent the return of Ganondorf and the clouds of malice that will enshroud all of Hyrule." The princess mouthed each word as Ciela finished speaking them aloud. The elderly woman glowered at the sight of Zelda's mimicry.

"Young lady, I advise you to take this seriously. Need I remind you that stopping the impending Calamity is your divine responsibility? Do you want the blood of Hyrule's children on your hands?"

Zelda flinched.

Apparently, Ciela was not playing around today, going right for the throat. She noted the anxious glaze that came over the princess's eyes and nodded approvingly. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes, 'and beneath the countenance of mountains, Hylia will lift thine eyes unto–'"

As if in defiance of the words, Zelda dropped her eyes to the open page before her. The cover of her prayer book had been surreptitiously bound onto the cover of Hyrule Flora: A Field Guide. During morning sermon, she'd eagerly devoured a compounded analysis of Hyrule Herb's medicinal properties, but now she stared at the words numbly.

Breathing evenly to send away the anxiety before it could settle, Zelda returned her attention to the window to where steel clashed and effortful cries hovered over trampled grass.

Zelda had always been intrigued by the knights—those who stepped into duty by choice. It was an unfamiliar concept to the princess. How could anyone willingly bear the burden of protecting others' lives?

Thirty minutes later, the end of their current passage marked the conclusion of ten grueling hours of relentless lecture and prayer. Zelda gathered her books and hurried out of the room before the cleric could say another word.

Despite juggling her attention between her books on plants, the knights across the yard, and conscientious breathing, the Calamity still clung to her like a swarm of morths.

It was a prophecy carved in the forefront of every Hylian's mind. When inevitable doom came to fragment Hyrule as they knew it, a Zelda with the Goddess' divine blood and the chosen hero were destined to rise and restore peace across the land.

Even as a young girl, she had been inundated with promises of her destiny. It is you, Zelda, whom the Goddess Hylia has chosen. In due time, Her blessing will awaken the powers within you. The powers with which you, alongside Her chosen hero, will put a stop to the Calamity.

But "promises" was a funny word to use. To Zelda, they had always felt more like threats. She knew the real meaning behind saccharine words and frightened smiles.

If you don't awaken your power, your people will lose their lives and everything as you know it will be destroyed.

What a terrible pressure to put on a girl who still checked for bokoblins under her bed. Perhaps it was the reason why she checked.

Before long, Zelda had instinctually made her way to the training yard. There was one person she had unsuccessfully sought through the window during sermon. The one person who had any inkling of the weight sitting in her chest. Because that boy was assigned to the same cruel fate as her.

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