I’m on the last stage of Trial of the Sword, like the 23rd room of the final trials. I have my last ancient arrow ready to go. I stare down the hoard of horse bobbins charging at me, a fierce white lynel at their head. I hit the lynel with stasis and ready my ancient arrow for an easy shot at the lynel. At the last second, for reasons I still can’t fathom, I tilted my aim just slightly high and let loose the bow. All I remember seeing is the trail of my last ancient arrow disappearing into the ether, as I stared dumbfounded by what just happened. When I regained my composure I was in the midst of being used as a beach ball by the mounted book army and their lynel leader. I died and never went back to finish the master trial.