The Great Deku tree looms above them,  beams of sunlight flooding through the canopy of leaves above. Birds sing in the distance, and the crickets chirp along with them. A few Koroks - the miniscule forest children with bodies made of wood - scamper through the tall grass, evading the newcomers as best they can. A lone sword sits embedded in a triangular stone beneath the giant tree, on a platform five steps from the ground, and the two knights approach it; one cautious and the other carefree.

"Junhong, what are we even doing here?” Youngjae whines, but he wears a knowing smile at his best friend’s reckless antics.

The captain of the Hyrulian guard had made it quite clear that no soldier was permitted on these grounds until the annual trial was to be held for the new recruits; all the newly enlisted soldiers would be made to form a line and try their hand at pulling the sword from its stone prison, and if one were to manage to free it, Hyrule would have its new destined Hero.

But now, the two stand alone in front of the sword after Junhong’s (rather brash) suggestion to try for the sword.  Youngjae isn’t completely sure how the words “You never know, one of us might be the Hero” managed to convince him to try, but he concludes it’s just a part of Junhong’s natural charm (and he’d never been quite good at turning down Junhong).

"You go first.” The elder says and he glances back to the cobblestone path that lead them there, overgrown weeds jutting out through the numerous cracks. He wonders what will happen if they get caught and the punishments he thinks of range from polishing all the armour in the castle to spending the rest of his days in a cell. He fears losing his knightship most of all, and how disappointed in him his father would be. He shouldn’t overthink it, he knows this, but he does it anyway.

Youngjae watches as Junhong’s fingers curl around the hilt of the sword and he gives it a slight tug, as though it were a clump of grass he was trying to pull from the ground. As expected, it doesn’t work. The sword remains buried in the stone. He tries again, applying more strength. He fails. He tries one last time, pulling with all his might; he grits his teeth, his cheeks turn red and his fingers white. Yet, the sword doesn’t budge. Junhong lets go and he shakes his head, laughing. “Dammit.” He says, but he doesn’t look too defeated. After all, for Junhong this was just something fun to do to pass time; a little adventure away from their patrol. He didn’t really care too much about the sword.

Youngjae’s glad that Junhong failed; he doesn’t think the boy would fair well under all the responsibility that would come with being the hero of legend. To have the entire kingdom looking up to him as their saviour surely would have exhausted the poor boy.

Junhong turns to him and smiles playfully, gesturing to the sword as he makes his descent down the moss-covered steps. “Your turn.”

Youngjae nods and gently grasps the hilt of the sword in his hands; he begins to fear that the Captain will somehow know he’s touched it before he was meant to.

There's a light breeze that seems to calm him as the tree branches dance to the rhythm the wind provides, and he finally pulls. He doesn’t try exerting all of his energy, as Junhong had done, but he doesn’t have to. The sword easily slips out of the stone, as if it were a knife in butter. Youngjae manages to pull it out completely, and it shines brilliantly in the sun’s rays.

He and Junhong are silent, staring with open mouths at the sword as they try to comprehend the feat Youngjae just achieved.

"Oh my God,” Junhong finally manages to breath, “You- You just- Youngjae...I- The sword...”

Youngjae only just hears him, too focused on the weapon in his hands. The beautifully crafted item isn’t as heavy as he expected, and it feels just right sitting in the palm of his hand. And he isn’t quite sure, but it feels...familiar.

His thoughts are swimming in the pools of his mind, and he feels as though he is drowning in them. He tries to grasp at just one and focus but he can’t, and nothing seems to make sense in that moment.

Junhong eventually puts a hand on Youngjae’s shoulder and he focuses on that until his mind settles. One thought seems to be consistently clear.

I'm the Hero of Hyrule.

-

The walk back to the palace is long and tense; neither know what to say, but they agree that they need to see the king as soon as possible. Youngjae carries the sword in his sheath, having discarded his old and battered broadsword somewhere near Lake Saria. The legendary weapon is longer and bulkier, and doesn’t quite sit right in the brown leather cover. Too much of the blade sticks out, and he slices the palm of his hand on it while they leave the forest.

Youngjae doesn’t really care; it’s a small cut, it will heal. His mind barely focuses on the incident, too occupied with thinking of what would happen to him now that he has pulled the master sword from the earth. The entire kingdom would be reliant on him to fight any evil, to seal any darkness, to save every last Hyrulian. Youngjae panics.

He's not sure if he can do that. He doesn’t think he can be what they need. A soldier, a saviour, a hero. Heck, he didn’t even want to be a soldier in the first place. He only became one so as not to disappoint his father. Youngjae wanted to be a traveller when he was younger -- even hoped to become one after he’d served his use in the Hyrulian Guard --, but now...now that could never be. He would live out the rest of his days serving to the needs of the people, would he not?

Junhong puts his arm around Youngjae’s shoulder after they pass the Woodland stable but says nothing. Youngjae wonders if Junhong can sense his distress, but he doesn’t question it. He’s thankful for the younger’s action. Youngjae can picture him saying ‘Don’t overthink it,’ as he often did, but they walk in silence.

Hyrule Castle looms in the distance and Youngjae cannot stare at it too long before his breath seems to catch in his throat. He thinks this should be easier; the hero of legend is supposed to be courageous, but all he feels is fear.

Junhong finally drops his arm as they step onto the winding path that leads to the front gate, murmuring something that Youngjae doesn’t quite catch about needing to see the King immediately. Still, he nods his head. He takes a deep breath and tries not to panic. He tells himself he can be the Hero that Hyrule needs. He doesn’t believe it, but he hopes that in time he will.

As they walk closer, an array of pink, blue, purple, and white flowers appear surrounding the path, gently swaying in the light breeze. Youngjae takes another deep breath and thinks about the serenity he feels at seeing the beautiful flora. He wants to protect it.

While he dwells on this, he looks to the left of the castle, where he can catch a glimpse of the main gardens before they disappear behind the large fortress. The flowers there are even more beautiful, and are surrounded by ornaments and small fountains. Youngjae sees the lone figure walking around the maze of plants and he stops walking.

Junhong looks over his shoulder, and he sees his friend deviate from the path. His eyes follow Youngjae and he breathes ‘Oh no’ under his breath. He catches up to the elder, reminding him they have to go inside, but Youngjae doesn’t listen. He walks towards the gardens, his limbs heavy and his mouth dry. And he walks towards the figure - all dressed up in the finest cloths in Hyrule - with his fists clenching and unclenching, his breath quickening with each step.

Youngjae stops once he’s a few metres behind the well-dressed man, and the man turns to him after hearing the heavy footsteps of the knight. Youngjae bows but he doesn’t speak, and he notices the man does not wear the crown that proves him to be the prince. He takes a few steps forward and takes hold of the sword. A few more steps, and Youngjae kneels before the prince. He can feel his grip loosen due to his sweaty palms. He smoothly slides the sword from its sheath and holds it up for the prince to see, letting the tip balance on his empty hand.

He says nothing, and looks up at the prince through his fringe. This is improper, he thinks as they make eye contact. He, as a lowly knight, is not supposed to have contact with the famed prince of Hyrule, and yet here he is, kneeling before him and holding a sword; to make manners worse, he cannot find any words to say, making his actions even more obscene. Surely, the prince must think of him as vulgar.

Youngjae watches the prince’s eyes widen, and finally looks away when his lips form into a thin line. Yes, Youngjae is certain now that the prince thinks of him as uncivilised. So, he stares at the ground instead, thinking it better than having the prince’s angered expression chip away at whatever courage he had left. He ignores the way his hands shake, and ignores the silence that swallows them.

"Youngjae,” He hears and he looks up to see the prince forcing a cordial smile, “...congratulations.” Is all that he says.

It’s been years since the prince has even called him by that name.

They used to be friends when they were young; Youngjae’s father served as the King’s personal knight, and was well trusted by the royal family. After all, his father’s mother belonged to the Sheikah tribe - the tribe that had served the royal family for time immemorial - and there seemed to be no higher honour in the eyes of the Hyrulians. Youngjae’s mother and siblings lived in Kakariko village, well away from Central Hyrule, and Youngjae and his father were the only members of their family who resided in the castle. Youngjae really was only there to be a companion to the prince as they were of the same age, but his father viewed it as a way to raise him as knight from an early age. Youngjae and the prince had grown up together, much like brothers. They learnt together, teased the guards together, played in the gardens together, and persuaded the cooks in the kitchens to give them treats when nobody was looking, together.

As they grew older, there was less time for games and tomfoolery. Their days became filled with tasks and duties, which were vastly different. Youngjae would spend most hours of the day training; dueling with the older guards, practicing archery, learning how to swing a sword while riding a steed. He was taught the best methods for offense and defense, and expected to memorise entire books of battle tactics and strategies. While he spent his days outdoors surrounded by other knights, the prince stayed indoors studying. Youngjae was never quite sure what it was he learnt as it was never made clear to him, but it always appeared to be of the utmost importance. And slowly, the two boys grew apart.

Youngjae has not spoken to the prince in almost two years now; their schedules are so vastly different, and the prince spends almost every hour indoors. Sometimes Youngjae thinks about what he’s doing all day long, but he always eventually decides that whatever it is, its for the good of the kingdom.

Youngjae slowly stands, not sheathing the sword but not keeping it on display either as he lets his arm drop to his side. The tip of the sword grazes the top of the grass at his feet, and his eyes rest on it for a moment until he meets eyes with the prince again. He isn’t sure what to say, and he doesn’t think the prince knows either. He feels foolish, not knowing what words would please.

Junhong saves him when he calls out to Youngjae, still standing on the path that leads to the castle’s front entrance. The new hero of Hyrule swallows and bows to the prince once more. The prince tells him that he should meet with the King, and Youngjae nods before turning away. His misses the disappointed look the prince wears, and he makes his way down to Junhong again.

"What the hell was that?” Junhong whispers harshly, as though the prince can hear them if they speak normally, which he can't.

"I don’t know.” Youngjae answers, because he honestly doesn't know. “I thought maybe… I don’t know what I thought.” He thinks for a moment. The interaction was strange; he had expected the prince to take the sword. Or maybe he was hoping the prince would say that he’d take the sword to the King so that Youngjae didn’t have to.

"You can’t just…” Junhong gestures wildly with his hands, “go up to the prince like that. You- what were you thinking?"

Youngjae just nods, and he doesn’t tell Junhong that they used to be friends. Though, he doesn’t think it matters anymore.

His friend takes one glance towards the prince and sighs before he begins pacing towards the castle’s entrance for the second time, and Youngjae does the same. But he hears his name being called out once again, and he turns his eyes towards the gardens once more. It’s the prince, and he’s a little closer, but not by much.

There’s silence for a few moments. A gentle breeze lifts the prince’s hair off his face, and he rounds his hands on either side of his mouth before he opens his mouth again. “Put a bandage on before you go!"

Youngjae looks down towards hand, having forgotten that he had sliced it open earlier. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips - the first smile he’d worn since pulling the sword from its stone prison - and he mimics the prince’s action. He wets his dry lips with his tongue briefly before replying.

"Okay, Daehyun!"

It feels weird not saying ‘my lord’, and Youngjae thinks he should have, but he doesn’t think too long about it. Instead, he just follows Junhong into the cold walls of Hyrule Castle and immediately misses the warmth of the outdoors, and the peacefulness of the garden, and the prince’s fleeting yet blinding smile before he turned away.