A/N: Huh? ANOTHER WORK?! Yeah... been working on this for just over a week, and I wanted to post it for the LU Discord server's Weekly Prompt. :) So... yeah. It's just the first chapter, which is honestly more like a teaser, but I've got about 20k words written as of this moment. There will be several time skips in this story, so pay attention to that 'useless drivel' of information that the characters use to reflect on major events. It'll key you in on the timeframe. We've got three centuries and a game-era journey to get through. I won't be detailing it all that much because you won't want to read three centuries of someone who can only watch. ^^

All that aside, please give a MASSIVE thank you and round of applause to Quasar Crew who drew the cover art for this story! It's phenomenal!!

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King Rhoam paced about his study, a nervous twitch to his fingers that he couldn't stop. There had to be a way to unlock his daughter's powers. There had to be. But so far, nothing had worked. It'd been years of prayer and borderline torture—praying in frigid waters and fasting until sickness, and every day Rhoam found it harder and harder to look his daughter in the eye. Not because of her dormant powers, but because of the guilt that weighed so heavily in his heart. Either Hylia was turning a blind eye to their plight, or they were doing something very wrong.

Recently, he had heard that one of his trusted knights had fathered the hero—a young boy of ten had pulled the Sacred Sword from somewhere in the Lost Woods. Their time was short. Calamity Ganon could attack at any moment now that the Hero had been found. There had to be some way... He had to save this land.

"Please." He turned to stare at the statue of the goddess that he kept in the corner. "I can't bear to watch my daughter suffer any further. Either unlock her power, or give me an alternative. I... please." He wasn't heartless. His daughter was the only thing he had left of his beloved wife. It killed him to watch her plea day and night for a power that hadn't shown a spark of existence.

With a heavy sigh, Rhoam leaned back against the bookshelf. There was a moment where he thought his feet had slipped out from beneath him, for suddenly the bookshelf had slid away from him and he found himself landing rather painfully upon his royal bottom. With a bewildered sound, he looked up to find it wasn't him that'd moved, but the bookshelf.

In all his years as king, he'd never heard of any secret passageways in the king's study. Admittedly, the Kingdom of Hyrule was a matriarchy. The Queen was the one with the power, and the king was merely her husband—there to look handsome and help her rule, but make no mistake; the Queen was the one with the real power. The king's study was a place that'd been passed down for thousands of years from one king to the next. Rhoam had even heard of Hylian Queens taking royal consorts and had seen the areas of the castle that'd been made for them, but his beloved wife Yevette had only ever asked for Rhoam.

Had this hidden room been from one of the kings ages past? He carefully pushed the bookshelf further to the side, opening up the way for him to pass. He spied veins of luminescent stones lighting the way, and weighed the pros and cons of exploring it himself or summoning a guard or two. In the end, his curiosity won out, and he started descending.

The stone passageway spiraled deeply into the ground, and it was covered in thick layers of dust and filth. It obviously hadn't been used in a very long time, but he could sense old traces of magic that'd kept the worst of time's passage at bay. The longer it stretched and the further underground it went, the more he pondered the passageway's intended usage. He idly wondered if perhaps the king who built it had been meeting other women beyond the castle walls, and wanted a secret passageway to sneak out.

All his theories were dashed when he found what looked like another study. It was quite spacious—stone walls that were embedded with luminescent stones and torches ready to be lit made for decent lighting, while ancient runes glowed softly to keep the items in the room from decaying with time. The cushion on the wooden chair looked incredibly worn, but it was still there—quite a feat, Rhoam was certain. There was a heavy door on the far side of the room, and books were shoved haphazardly into shelves. Papers were messily strewn across the desk and many stones that oozed magic were scattered about several surfaces. Rhoam couldn't make heads or tails of any of it, but a quick glance at the date on some of the notes had his eyes widening.

This room dated back ten thousand years. What an incredible historical find! Perhaps, if he had the right people research the notes and books, they could better understand some of the Sheikah technology of the time! Excited, Rhoam decided to check out the second room; hoping for some kind of key or clue that would help them in their fight against the coming darkness.

The moment he opened the door, he wished he hadn't. The only light that illuminated it was from the previous room, but a quick spell to summon a flame had his eyes narrowing in distaste. He'd seen the dungeons of Hyrule, knew that the Sheikah had a dark history of torturing the fools who attempted to assassinate the females of royal blood. But though this room had likely been out of use for hundreds or thousands of years, it was clear that this was a place of torture. A skeleton was still chained to the wall—almost completely dust at this point, he was sure a breeze would disintegrate it. He also noticed gouges in the stone walls and floor, small enough to be from toes and fingers, but deep enough to have been done many times, by many people. All in agony.

Just what had been done in this place? Hands trembling lightly, he backed out of the room and returned to the study, intent on figuring out what had happened. This time, he studied the notes with more than a passing glance. When the complex magical formulas still made his head hurt, he turned instead to the bookshelf. It became quickly apparent that this was not a place that the Sheikah had used—it had been used by the king that had become afraid of them. The king who had ordered the Divine Beasts and Guardians destroyed.

The first book he grabbed was a journal. It was well worn, bound in some kind of material Rhoam had never seen, but it was smooth and cool to the touch. The parchment within was very high quality—thin and light, and he couldn't help but think it was a type of material that'd been lost over the centuries. He turned the page, noting that it was written by the Royal Mage at the time—a position that'd been disregarded for at least a thousand years.

Year x22, June. Under the orders of the current king, my good friend King Ghura, I have been allowed to study the phenomena known as a living blade. The Sheikah play with their machines, convinced that Calamity can be fought with technology, but I beg to differ. Magic has always been the solution, but since the Sword that Seals the Darkness has yet to be found, despite the Princess having such powerful magic, we need to make our own. If the sword of legend cannot be found, then we will make a new one. I'm sure the answer lies somewhere in the Goddess Stones we've managed to find.

Year x23, July. I have come to a startling revelation. A living blade cannot be created without a suitable human sacrifice. This person will become the 'ego' or spirit within the blade, and house the intense divinity that will make the blade suitable to fight the coming darkness. I'll request King Ghura to send me execution prisoners to study. In the meantime, I'm sending out my mages to procure more Goddess Stones. (ref. Field Journal for good locations)

Year x28, December. Research is progressing. The act of forcing liquid Goddess Stones (refined/modified, see research Journal 23) into the bloodstream seems to have the desired effect—the flesh will start to turn to steel—but the agony is too much for the average person to survive. Every subject has expired within the first month. None of them have managed to convert more than ten percent of their bodies. Perhaps a soul with stronger magic is required. I'll ask the king to help me procure some more suitable subjects.

Year x34, May. Higher concentrations of magic seem to help, but the slaves and beggars procured by the king just don't hold up. Their magic fights the Goddess Stone's divinity, ultimately resulting in the subject's expiration. Perhaps someone who is aligned with divinity will prove more useful?

Year x34, June. I've managed to procure someone with holy magic—one of the sisters of the church. She's responded very well to the acclimation, and survived three months. Acclimation is at forty percent. Could this be the one?

Year x34, July. She's expired as well. But divinity is definitely the key to this problem. Perhaps she wasn't powerful enough. Then who could top the power of a follower of the church? An oracle? The princess? The hero? I'm afraid I'm at an impasse here. The king will never allow me to use his daughter, and the oracles' descendents have been lost for centuries. The hero hasn't been found either, and without the Master Sword, there's no sure way to determine who he is. There must be a way. There simply must be!

Year x36 October. I'm shutting down my lab. The king has ordered I stop on account of the Divine Beasts and Guardians helping the Hero and Princess successfully seal away the Calamity once more. But I will not destroy my research. If ever there comes a time when the Sword of Legend is gone, or the Calamity rises without the pieces needed to combat it, this will be necessary. If my calculations are correct, using someone with the spiritual power of a hero, princess, or oracle could lead to a magical sword far more powerful than the Sword of Legend. With that power, even a regular hylian could push back the darkness. I leave this study, and my stash of Goddess Stones (refined by my research, see research journal 23 for information) to whoever needs this.

Rhoam's hands shook like a leaf in a storm. This... this might just be the answer he was looking for. But Rhoam was no mage or scholar. He couldn't understand the complex notes and formulas that the man who'd done this had spent decades researching.

It was inhumane. Wrong. This was wrong on so many levels, but... But it could save his daughter. His kingdom. If he could find one of the oracles... or the hero.

Rhoam's eyes widened. He swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat as he thought of the ten year old boy he'd only heard about. Could he really cross that line? Surely, if she prayed just a little more his daughter would unlock her power... or perhaps she wouldn't, and the kingdom would fall into ruin.

He clenched his fist so tightly that his nails cut into the palm of his hand, but the king paid no mind to the blood that dripped to the cold stone floor. Perhaps the researcher was simply not good enough. He would quietly find someone—perhaps several someones—to study the man's ten thousand year old notes. They could make a blade out of a prisoner, if necessary. Someone who didn't matter. A beggar or street urchin or something. There was no need for anything drastic. No, Rhoam would do it right.