The Shadow's Grip

As the sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow over the kingdom, Link rode into the castle courtyard, his horse's hooves echoing off the stone walls. He dismounted, stretching his tired muscles, and made his way to the great hall where a celebratory dinner was being held in honor of the King's recent decrees. The aroma of roasting meats and freshly baked bread wafted through the air, making his stomach growl with hunger. As he entered the great hall, the guests turned to greet him, their faces filled with smiles and concern. Link nodded in acknowledgement, taking a seat at the table beside Zelda, who was beaming with relief at his safe return. However, as the dinner progressed, Link began to feel a growing sense of discomfort. He struggled to swallow, feeling a tightness in his throat that made it difficult to eat. At first, he tried to brush it off, thinking it was just a minor issue, but as the night wore on, the sensation only grew worse. He attempted to take a sip of his drink, but the liquid seemed to catch in his throat, making him cough. Zelda noticed his distress and reached out, concern etched on her face. "Link, are you alright?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din of the dinner. Link nodded, trying to reassure her, but his eyes betrayed his unease. Just then, a servant approached them, his face pale and worried. "Link, I think you should come with me," he said, his voice low and urgent. As Link stood, he felt a slight twinge of pain in his right elbow, a sensation that sent a shiver down his spine. The servant led him out of the great hall, Zelda following closely behind. "What's going on?" Link asked, his voice laced with concern. The servant hesitated before answering, "The King's guards have been instructed to bring anyone showing symptoms of Shadow Rot to the dungeon for observation. And, Link, I'm afraid you're showing some... signs." Link's heart sank as he felt a creeping sense of dread. He tried to shake off the feeling, but it was too late. The servant led him to the dungeon, Zelda by his side. As they descended into the dimly lit corridors, Link caught sight of the dungeon's makeshift infirmary. The air was thick with the scent of medicine and disinfectant. A healer greeted them, her face kind but firm. "I'm afraid we need to take you in for observation, Link," she said, her eyes scanning his face. "Your hypersensitivity and difficulty swallowing are clear indicators of the disease." Zelda's grip on his hand tightened. "I'll stay with him," she said, her voice firm. The healer nodded, "Very well. As a member of the royal family, you've been vaccinated against the disease. You're allowed to stay with him." As they entered the small cell, Link couldn't help but think of the unfairness of it all. The vaccine, he had learned, had been reserved for those of royal blood, leaving the rest of the population vulnerable to the disease. Zelda's thoughts seemed to mirror his, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. "Why should it be that only those with royal blood get to live?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Link's gaze met hers, and he knew that this was just the beginning of a long and difficult journey. The Shadow Rot disease seemed to be closing in, and he was now a part of it.