Princess Zelda: Royal Destiny by Jade Gretz

https://www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai/art/Princess-Zelda-Royal-Destiny-1196292784

The Bloom of Midnight Ash

Moonlight spread across Hyrule like a pale breath, silvering the ruined fields and the shattered crowns of trees. Where once the breeze carried the scent of spring and meadow-song, it now stank faintly of burnt petals. A sickness crept from the western hills—slow at first, then faster—turning forests into inked silhouettes and beasts into things that should not breathe.

Princess Zelda rode alone through the valley of Withering Ferns, her cloak drawn tight against the cold. Her mare, Lysandra, trembled with every step. All around, the foliage swayed unnaturally, as if the earth itself exhaled dread. The cursed blight had reached even here.

“It spreads faster than prophecy,” Zelda whispered.

A voice from nowhere answered, as cool as moonlit glass.
“You speak as if prophecy ever served you well, Your Grace.”

Zelda turned. Perched on the branch of a dead oak sat a woman cloaked in violet feathers. Her eyes glowed faintly red, as though a candle burned behind them. She smiled with both mockery and admiration.

“Impa warned me of spies,” Zelda said. “But she did not mention ravens who spoke like courtiers.”

“I am neither spy nor bird,” the woman said, dropping gracefully to the ground. “My name is Seris. I serve the Blight now, as all things soon will. Even you, my gilded blossom.”

The title—blossom—hung in the air with disquieting familiarity.

Zelda dismounted. “If you serve the Blight, then tell me: what does it want?”

Seris tilted her head, smiling. “What any living thing desires, Princess. To spread, to feed, to transform. To make beauty permanent in decay.”

The woman reached out, brushing her fingers through a patch of dying clover. They turned black, then flowered again—this time in obsidian petals that pulsed faintly with light.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Seris murmured. “The Blight preserves what the sun would burn away.”

Zelda drew her dagger. “It destroys.”

Seris only smiled. “Then perhaps destruction is the purest preservation.”

A hum rippled through the earth. The ground split like lips whispering secrets. Something clawed upward—half boar, half root, its flesh streaked with bark. Its eyes wept sap. It snorted a cloud of spores that shimmered like dying stars.

Zelda whispered a prayer under her breath, holding her dagger high. “Spirit of Light, through me.”

Golden energy flared from her hand, tracing runes along her blade. She slashed once, twice—the air screamed as if the very soul of the valley bled. The creature collapsed into ash and soil.

When she looked again, Seris was gone.

Only her laughter drifted from the woods—sweet, melodic, and cruel.

At dawn, Zelda reached the remains of Kakariko Village. Smoke curled from cracked rooftops. The well at the center bubbled with dark liquid, reflecting nothing. A lone Sheikah warrior knelt by the gate, his eyes glazed.

“Corruption took them,” he murmured when Zelda touched his shoulder. “It comes from the roots. We tried burning the fields. The fire sang.”

“The fire sang?” Zelda repeated softly.

He nodded, trembling. “Voices. Like the lullabies my mother hummed when I was small. But they spoke my name.”

Zelda looked toward the forest edge. Even now, faint music drifted on the wind. It was haunting, melodic—like a lover calling across the water.

“Go,” she said to the warrior. “Find Impa. Tell her the princess walks into the dark.”

He hesitated. “You shouldn’t face this alone.”

“I already am.”

By evening, the forest swallowed her. The trees had grown unnaturally tall, their branches curving inward like ribs. Flowers the color of bruises bloomed beneath her feet, sighing softly as they opened and closed.

A whisper wound through the air: Zelda…

She spun, holding her lantern high. Shadows danced between the trunks. For a heartbeat she thought she saw Link’s silhouette—bow slung across his back, familiar tilt of the head.

“Link?”

He stepped forward. But the eyes that met hers glowed like molten gold, and when he smiled, black sap trickled from his teeth.

“Don’t you recognize me?” he said, voice sweet as honey over rust. “You prayed I’d return.”

“Not like this.”

He reached for her cheek, his fingers brushing her skin with impossible tenderness. “The Blight gave me back to you. It can give back all you’ve lost.”

She raised her lantern between the
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