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Chapter Text

Link opened his eyes. It was dark. He stared at the distant vaulted ceiling above him, listening to the snores of his fellow guards surrounding him here on the floor. A vast array of swords, shields, bows and spears were mounted neatly along the walls. His eyes followed the perfect designs they created. It was a comforting sight.

Another rattling snort from his left interrupted his thoughts. Link removed himself from his blanket and folded it, silent as a cat. The other royal guards mumbled and shifted in swaddled sleep as their youngest padded down the stairs and into the open.

Lanterns continued to blaze upon the parapet of Hyrule Castle, casting pools of warm orange light upon the flagstones. Beyond the walls and moat, Link glimpsed even tinier pinpricks of light twinkling beyond in Castle Town. In this hour before dawn, Hyrule slept. Link would have loved to join them, but duty and routine were embedded into his system. It mattered not what he wanted. There was training to do.

Stretching his arms and legs, he took off along the wall. Other guards glanced up tiredly at the sound of feet against stone, but when they saw it was Link, their eyes drooped low again. Nobody spoke to the boy jogging along, and he didn’t speak to them. They all preferred it the same way.

The sun was just beginning to rise as Link neared the end of his loop along the western wall. The guard there was dead to the world, flopped over the parapet with his cap slipped forward, completely covering his face. Link paused, briefly, to swipe the cap and put it on before hoisting himself over the side. He sidled along the narrow ledge, fingernails digging into crusty mortar as he maneuvered himself downward. This wasn't necessary, of course, but what was the point of training if there wasn't any variety? The only way anyone would see him was only if they were watching from the tall, thin tower at his back. There was a movement in a window but nothing more, and Link didn’t even notice as he hopped down to the ground again.

He wiped the sweat from his brow as he reentered the guard chamber. The other men were finally stirring, wriggling out of blankets and pulling on chain mail and gloves.

“Morning, Link,” called one of them. He was barrel-chested, a dark moustache dusting his top lip with a fine beard to match. He handed the boy a uniform of his own. “Suit up.”

“Yes, for now it is finally morning,” said another guard. He was thin and lanky with long brown curly hair pulled back with a tie. He raised an eyebrow bisected by a thin scar and shook his head at Link. “It’s not morning until the cuccos crow! So stop making us look so lazy, won’t you?”

“You can do that yourself, Leigh,” the first guard said.

Leigh stood. Link had to crane his neck just to meet his eyes. “Fair enough. Come on, Arrin. Let’s feed the poor pup.”

Men milled about the ground floor of the chamber, pausing by the cooking pot to get their fill of breakfast. Arrin dropped a third of his portion into Link’s bowl before the boy could protest. “I’ve seen your appetite. This won’t even be enough.”

Leigh chuckled. “Please don’t eat us out of dear castle and home!”

Link put his face into the bowl. In seconds, it was clean.

Leigh shook his head again. “What did we ever do to you? Here, take my apple. That’s all I have, I swear. Are you from Eldin? Were you forced to eat rocks as a child? Or did your family simply starve you?” Leigh’s voice faltered as another man turned around. “No, no, I know it’s not that… I’m just joking…”

He shut his mouth and seemed fixated upon his spoon as Captain Chard of the King’s personal guard approached the table. At a glance, he looked like any Hylian: average height, pointed ears, and sandy sideburns framing a severe expression. But soldiers quieted and stepped aside when he moved. Link wiped his mouth and straightened his back. Arrin greeted him. “Captain.”

“Sir Arrin,” Chard nodded back. “Sir Leigh. Link,” he said.

Arrin and Leigh shifted uneasily on either side of him. But the fact that the Captain never referred to Link by his knightly honorific didn't bother him. In a way, he was grateful that one thing hadn't changed.

“Training in the courtyard,” Chard said. His eyes lingered upon Link. They were a shade of blue that matched the sky lighting up behind him through the windows. “Look smart. The royal family are in today.”

“They’ll be watching?” asked Leigh.

Chard pressed his lips together, finally tearing his gaze from Link. “Who’s to say. Just be ready.”

Link nodded, but the Captain had already walked away. Arrin stacked their bowls as Leigh stretched, sighing. “It’s that damned Calamity business, isn’t it? We must be ready! It may strike! At any time! Goddesses, do they truly believe that the greatest evil known to us can be stopped by a hefty jab to the armpit and a nicely turned out parry?”

“This is no laughing matter,” Arrin said sternly as they followed other men out of the chamber. “The fortune-teller's warning was urgent, and the signs are becoming clearer. It’s coming back.”

Leigh shrugged. “I know, but we’ve got those Sheikah things! They were made just for this moment. Aren’t they being dug up all over the place? Just in time.”

Arrin’s mouth twisted, but they had reached the outdoors. Link breathed relief as he picked up a training sword and took position.

He allowed himself to fall into the familiar routine: shuffle forward, back, attack, defend, exhale, inhale, clash, clang, repeat. Other soldiers wavered in and out of his periphery, but all that existed were his sword, shield, and opponent. Link’s mind almost went blank as he struck and parried, advanced and retreated, the simple, regular pattern he traced over each day.

Suddenly, they were stopped at the sound of fanfare. Link lowered his sword, then his entire body as the men fell silent for the King of Hyrule.

Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule stood before the assembled soldiers, Captain Chard at attention beside him. The King was not of particularly tall stature, but his presence towered over them all. His great white beard spilled over his doublet of deep royal blue, and the ruby set into his golden crested crown gleamed bright in the sunlight.

The King looked round at the lowered heads before him. “Rise,” he said.

Link obeyed, along with the clumsy clatter of his fellow guards. The King peered into their faces slowly. Those dark eyes settled onto Link’s and widened. “Is this the one?” he asked.

Chard nodded. “Link!”

Link stood at attention. The other men melted away to the side. Chard motioned for him to walk forward, and he did so. He knew what this was about.

The other day, on his evening run about the castle, Link strayed from his usual path after hearing a commotion from over the wall. He had peered over the parapet to witness various Sheikah diving out of the path of a terrible, rampaging thing - it resembled an overturned pot with strange glowing markings on its sides, lurching about on spindly spider’s legs. The thing stumbled and steamed, its stone head grinding as it pivoted this way and that, ticking low and long while blood-red light beamed from a single, icy blue eye…

Instinct kicked in as he had leapt from the wall, snatched up a pot lid and threw himself between the monster and a horrified Sheikah. Link stared at the wall before him and remembered the sudden explosion of heat against his arm when a powerful blast ricocheted off the lid right back into that unnerving eye. The mechanical creature had shuddered, then toppled over for good.

The Sheikah he’d protected had then, rather shakily, informed him that the thing was called a Guardian and it was a Very Important Artefact meant to help defeat the Calamity. And Link had just destroyed it. Whoops.

He had hoped with all his might that this blunder wouldn’t have reached Chard. But now here he was at the mercy of the King instead… All he had wanted, at the time, was to not see a person blasted into smithereens by an ancient war machine. Was that so bad?

He started at an unexpected sound. The King was laughing, a sonorous rumble deep in his chest. “I should have known! I remember you. Youngest in the regiment, isn’t it? Alright, I’m interested. Show me what you’ve got.”

Link glanced over at Chard, who simply stared back at him. “A demonstration for the King. Sir Arrin!”

His friend stepped forward, also holding a training sword and shield. The others backed up to give them a wide berth. Some of them murmured amongst themselves. Watching Link fight always drew an audience. Link breathed out, long and measured, and readjusted his stance. Arrin flipped his sword around in one hand nervously.

On Chard’s count, they began. Link felt his heart adjust to the rhythm of a good spar. His body moved back and forth with natural ease, his mind honed in on the clues that showed him how this was going to go.

Arrin fought aggressively, but also sloppily. If Link blocked each advance with simple parries, the man would become impatient and frustrated, suddenly shifting into big lunges and slashes that could be seen a mile away. Link could easily dodge or block. But this creative and impulsive approach had helped Link learn to switch between attack and defense at any given time. Arrin's face was wound into a grimace as he threw his weight behind every charge. Link simply hopped to his right, deftly dropped his wrist and felt the satisfying vibration of Arrin’s blade on his.

“Change!” Chard shouted.

Leigh circled him, the staff in his grasp keeping them apart. Link knew the softhearted soldier well; he was a pacifist at heart and disliked fighting. Link didn’t really understand how the man had ended up in the royal guard, but such a personality was well suited for defense. He was one of the tallest men in the garrison, so Link had found him to be a useful challenge during training. Even now, he found new ways to dart round Leigh’s long reach and make a hit. Link ducked a sharp thrust, grasped the shaft of the pole and swung himself around to land a hearty whack to Leigh’s ribcage.

“Ah!” his friend dropped the weapon and clutched his side dramatically.

“That’s enough,” said the King. He regarded Link with approval. “More than enough.”

Chard frowned. “But, your Grace-”

King Rhoam pointed at Link. “Follow me. Captain, you’ll come as well.” He turned heel and strode into the castle. Link had no choice. He handed his training sword to Leigh, aware of the gaze of twenty men on his back as he followed.

His feet made no sound on the plush carpets within. The corridors snaked up and down almost endlessly. Link hurried to match Chard’s long strides as the King led them along. He looked up at the Captain. Chard was still frowning. He chewed his bottom lip distractedly, a thumb grazing the pommel of his sword. Link had never seen him so worried before. He swallowed his nerves and struggled to keep his own face still.

The King suddenly stopped. They were before a large statue, well worn, of a figure holding up one hand. There could have been a sword within its grasp, but it was so old that Link couldn’t be sure. The King reached down and brushed the floor beneath it. There was a faint clicking sound, then the statue slid back on its pedestal, revealing a staircase descending into darkness.

Link walked down the new steps after the King and Chard. They entered a large circular room, almost as big as the royal throne room. Enormous statues of knights holding their broadswords in two handed salute surrounded a dais. They were illuminated in a myriad of colours streaming from floor to ceiling stained glass windows that depicted six serene figures wreathed in fire, water, leaves, and light. Link could feel their eyes, along with the King and Chard’s, upon him as he slowly walked up to the dais.

In the centre was a lone pedestal. Link immediately recognised the triforce of Hyrule carved upon the floor. The pedestal held a single sword. Its blade was old but sharp. The hilt looked worn smooth. The crossguard was unique to him: wings angled outward with a golden gem glinting dully in the stained glass light.

The King hadn't moved, a slight smile hidden in his beard. Link looked at Chard. His captain's face was grey with consternation. He suddenly turned to King Rhoam. "We have no proof he is the one," he said. "He has finished no trials. He's been knighted for less than a year. He... he's young. He-"

"He has shown courage," the King replied. "Courage he will need. And the sword is a trial in itself."

Chard bowed his head and stepped aside. Link approached the pedestal. The air around the sword seemed to hum, inviting him to test his mettle.

He put his hands around the hilt and pulled. Suddenly, he felt a great grip on his arms, as if an invisible force was trying to drag him down into the sword itself. Link braced his feet against the ground and gritted his teeth. He felt his energy sap, his strength leaking freely into the blade. Vaguely, he was aware of Chard calling out to him but it was faint and unintelligible, as if from a distance. Link gasped and held on tightly as pain shot through his limbs, accompanied by strange memories that didn't seem like his: A stunning world of cloud and sky darkening to storms at the word of a flame-headed god. Struggling to stand against a wave of darkness... racing down a crumbling tower... trapped in a ring of fire. A great red maned boar, roaring into his face with pure hatred... leaning over the side of his horse to slash at a dark figure writhing in light... and a dying vow for blood.

With a final grunt, Link yanked the sword out of its stone. His arm trembled as he held it aloft. The blade caught one of the stained glass rays of light, making it glow with a holy blue tint.

There was laughter behind him. Link turned, the sword still raised. The King smiled broadly at him, but Chard was on his knees at the edge of the dais. Link felt shock course through his body when he saw tears in the Captain’s eyes.

“The sword has chosen!” the King was exuberant as he strode forward towards Link. He paused to give Chard a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You should be proud of your son.”

Chard didn’t reply. He simply looked away. Link looked uncertainly at his father, and then at the King, who smiled at him. “This is the sword that seals the darkness,” he said to him. “The Master Sword. It has stayed hidden here, waiting for a worthy hero to wield it.”

Link’s jaw dropped in disbelief. King Rhoam continued. “You are that new hero. You will be the Hylian Champion and use this sword to defeat the Calamity and seal away the darkness that threatens our land with my daughter,” his eyes flickered up at the staircase, “the Princess Zelda.”

Link turned. There, just below the entrance, stood a girl on the steps. Her long dress was in shadow, but a shaft of light fell upon her shoulders and face. A simple golden diadem glittered like a halo in her yellow hair. Link’s breath caught in his throat as he stared into a pair of eyes as green as Hyrule Field in the spring.

Princess Zelda stared back at him. Her eyes trailed down to the sword in his hands, then back up at his face. Then, her eyebrows suddenly furrowed, and she pursed her lips before turning tail and rushing back up the stairs, her hands clawed into fists around handfuls of skirt.

Link finally remembered to shut his mouth.

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen the princess... was it? Link couldn’t believe it. Palpitations shivered in his chest. How had he missed those eyes?

But this was certainly the first time she’d seen him.

And she hated him.

Chapter Text

One Day Before

Princess Zelda waited as her knights tested the swaying planks of the suspension bridge over the Regencia River. It was midday, with the sun bearing down on them. This was a beautiful location in Hyrule, with dusty sandstone boulders of the Gerudo Desert on her left side giving way to the more verdant cliffs of the Great Plateau on the right. The sound of gushing water from the River of the Dead echoed down the canyon as it emptied over the Plateau’s edge.

She nudged her horse forward. He snorted and shook his head as a flock of pink-winged herons suddenly took flight before them, their rosy feathers flapping in the waterfall’s spray. Zelda watched them soar upward into the sky. She imagined what it would be like to lift off and fly so high above the ground. Her journey back to Hyrule Castle would be reduced to a mere hour or two, as opposed to the whole day.

It had been an exhausting trip, over two weeks of constant travel. The moment Zelda had received word from the Sheikah that the Divine Beasts were ready for their pilots, she had set off at once, Champions already chosen in mind.

Recruiting Revali had been a… very good exercise in diplomacy. Once Zelda had arrived at Rito Village, the preening archer had immediately flounced off to his personal training site. Revali was such a diva. The first time she had offered the role of Champion to him, he’d demanded why their plan needed anyone else to defeat the Calamity, now they had him. When Zelda had patiently explained that historical evidence pointed towards a Hylian hero, Revali had stormed away in a huff.

When it was clear that he intended to make her wait, Zelda pulled on a cape and waded through the snow to Flight Range herself. She had composed a careful and strongly worded speech on the ride up. Instead, she was met with an unusual sight. Zelda had never bought completely into Revali’s boasting, but she wasn’t expecting to see the renowned flier struggle.

Upon seeing her, Revali turned away and sulked. “You know, your highness, it’s rude to eavesdrop.”

“My apologies,” she said. “I went to the village and I was told I could find you here.”

She indulged his heated opinion on how to defeat the Calamity, frowning and nodding at the right moments. She thanked him profusely when he begrudgingly assented. But her reaction to his heart-stopping, whirlwind performance was genuine. A Champion meant the best, and Zelda departed Rito Village feeling confident about the choice for Vah Medoh.

She had better success in Goron City. Daruk didn’t need any convincing at all.

“Count me in, little princess!” Heavy chains clinked with each step he took, but Daruk carried himself and his burdens with ease. “If Hyrule needs my help, I’ll gladly lay down my life.”

Zelda could not imagine the mighty Goron succumbing to any form of opposition, especially after personally witnessing the Boulder Breaker in action against a pack of bokoblins. Still, it was very sweet to discover Daruk’s softer side buried beneath that stone shell. He kept her laughing and safe up to the edge of Eldin Canyon, though she did have to lie through grinning teeth in regards to his prime rock roast.

At Zora’s Domain, Mipha had been equally gracious. Zelda was struck at how this petite and soft-spoken girl commanded such respect among her people. As Mipha guided her through waterways and platforms, they met Zora subjects who brightened at the sight of her. Zelda found herself feeling the same admiration as the two of them walked along and discussed the Calamity. Mipha had a tendency to twirl the shaft of the lightscale trident against her shoulder while she formulated her thoughts. The weapon was almost twice her height.

They paused at the top of a cascading waterfall. Zelda kept careful distance from the edge, but Mipha knelt by its side, looking out onto her kingdom. Zora’s Domain glittered like crystal in the streaming sun. Zelda could hear splashing and laughter of young Zora in the waters below.

Mipha waved at one of them: a tiny, red-finned boy. “Sidon, hurry and swim up here!”

The child in the water blinked nervously. Zelda turned to her new friend. “Mipha, perhaps he is still too young to swim up this big waterfall.”

Mipha gazed across the sparkling sapphire waters. “One day, Princess, I must leave him. To face my fate with Ruta.”

Before Zelda could even express her thanks, Mipha dived beautifully over the edge. Zelda scrounged up the courage to look over and watched Mipha sail back up against the current, landing effortlessly with Sidon in hand. She felt like an outsider as the Zora siblings leaned their heads close to share a loving moment.

“I believe in you!” Mipha smiled at her brother.

Zelda felt her own chest tighten as the little prince beamed with delight.

When Mipha declared that she would agree to Zelda’s request, her father’s advisors cried and pleaded with her to consider her people’s needs.

“I am considering them,” Mipha said. Everyone hushed at her voice. “The threat of the Calamity can no longer be ignored. I only want to see the Zora grow strong and safe without the fear of evil blighting our kingdom.”

King Dorephan looked down at his eldest, only daughter. Zelda saw tears in his eyes. “The Zora must play their part. You have my blessing, dear Mipha. Help the Champions defeat the Calamity, and bring honour and peace to our domain.”

Mipha nodded, blinking hard. The Zora listening in erupted into cheers, though a few were mingled with crying. Many of them rushed at Mipha to kiss her fins and drown her with well wishes. Zelda left Zora’s Domain in a state of solemnity. She wondered if anyone had ever cried over her.

With that in mind, Zelda had entered Gerudo Town with new determination. Facing Urbosa in the throne room of the Gerudo Palace, Zelda beseeched the proud Chieftain to take control of Vah Naboris.

“Princess of Hyrule, I accept your proposition without hesitation.” The last rays of sunset lit up Urbosa’s golden armour like flames as her voice rang out across the airy hall. “You have my word. I won’t rest until the Calamity falls!”

"Chief Urbosa, on behalf of Hyrule and its king, I thank you.” Zelda bowed her head.

She was happy to discard the courtly formalities after dinner. Urbosa hugged the princess tenderly and dismissed her handmaidens. They escaped the Palace for a private stroll in the cool evening air. Zelda held her godmother’s hand tightly as they laughed over old memories.

Urbosa sighed. “Ten years ago, you rarely smiled, my little bird.”

Zelda considered her growing shadow as two travellers passed them, their footprints unseen in the sand. “Urbosa, I feel like you’ve called me little bird before. I was wondering where you got that name from.”

She stopped when Urbosa did. The Gerudo Chief's eyes narrowed. "Halt, and face me!"

Zelda was pushed aside as the travellers transformed into the red and black uniforms of the treacherous Yiga Clan. Urbosa handled the combat with perfect poise, even laughing as she struck with her shining scimitar. When one of them approached her from behind, his curved blade gleaming wickedly in moonlight, she simply straightened her back, tossed red hair over one shoulder, and snapped her fingers. Zelda was nearly blinded by the electric blaze.

Then, it was over. Urbosa commanded the rogue assassins away and turned to Zelda as if the fight had never happened. She smiled sadly. “When you were but a small child, my dear friend called you that, with the sweetest smile that ever graced our land of Hyrule.”

Zelda’s heart skipped a beat. “You mean mother?”

“It was ten long years ago. Your mother had just left this world.” Urbosa closed her eyes. Zelda was at a loss for words. But then, Urbosa opened her eyes again and looked intently at Zelda. “Yet, her little bird still spread her wings and became the beacon of light Hyrule needed.”

Now in the canyon, not even twelve hours later, Zelda frowned. The herons’ shadows dappled the grass as her horse carried her across the bridge. Zelda wished that she could be even the littlest of birds. Little birds were able to take wing and leave the world behind them.

The royal family of Hyrule was a matriarchal line. Kings ruled only after their Queens passed on. Zelda’s mother had been the ultimate monarch: beautiful, wise, loving, and just. More importantly, the blood of the Goddess ran through her veins. Zelda remembered running to her in the middle of the night as a very young child, frightened by some nameless nightmare imagined in the dark.

“Do not fear,” the Queen had said. Three golden triangles glowed upon the back of her hand as she touched Zelda’s cheek. “Light will always quell darkness. Love defeats hate. All will be well in the end. You can do anything. I will teach you more, once you are old enough.”

But of course, that could never happen now. And the Calamity was almost upon them. Zelda glanced down at her own hand.

“Wait,” she called out. The knights looked back at her. “Not yet.”

She instructed them to take her to Gatepost Town. Zelda rode the creaking elevator up against the sheer stone, breathing in the strange, chilly mist that always shrouded these walls. At the top, she was greeted by monks who guided her to the tall cathedral waiting in the distance: the Temple of Time.

Zelda shuddered with delight as she entered the nave of Hyrule’s most sacred building. History books claimed that it had housed magical stones, ancient swords, and even a doorway through time. Zelda could only dream of experiencing the Hyrule of her forbears. Whatever the truth was, this was a holy place. She had never tried this before, but surely it wouldn't hurt. Devotees moved aside for Zelda, who bowed her head before the Statue of the Goddess.

But while she murmured her oft-repeated and fully memorised prayers, Zelda’s mind drifted instead to her trip. It had been worthwhile, hadn’t it? She had promises from four brilliant Champions. Now, there was just one left.

Zelda gritted her teeth. They had all asked about him, the hero with the sword to seal the darkness. Revali oozing contempt, Daruk in enthusiasm, Mipha out of curiosity, and Urbosa with a piercing gaze of concern. Zelda had to admit to each of them that this final piece of the plan was yet to be discovered. There was plenty of gossip flying around the castle when she had left, but she saw no merit in accommodating mere rumour.

She tried harder to concentrate. The Statue of the Goddess blocked out much of the sunset through the window. Twilight would soon be upon them. Zelda couldn’t help but think of the previous princesses and heroes whose great deeds she had studied before. She had hoped that they would have given her some insight. The legends had loved describing the hero’s noble nature… no matter who he was and what he faced, he always served perfectly, filled with zeal, resourcefulness, and ardent devotion to the crown.

Zelda gave an involuntary shudder as dusk descended over the temple. She knew it made no sense. She was a Princess Zelda, destined to cross paths with the hero, even expected to be drawn towards him. She had been told so many times about how they would be a perfect partnership: wisdom and courage, overcoming the blight of corrupted power. She had been warned that there was no other option, she simply had to find him and use her inherited talent to defeat the darkness… She looked down at her hand again and only saw the fabric of her gloves.

Her knights hastily scrambled to attention when their princess suddenly strode out the temple doors, red-faced and frowning. Zelda tightened her fingers around the reins of her horse as they galloped across Hyrule Field, heading home.

It was almost midnight when they finally arrived through the castle gates. Zelda hurried up the sloping path. Someone waited for her beyond the first gatehouse.

“Princess Zelda,” Captain Chard said in greeting. He offered her a hand as she dismounted. “Welcome back.”

Zelda looked around. He was accompanied by a skeleton crew of guards and attendants who were busy seeing to her horse. Otherwise, there was only flickering shadow upon the stone walls.

“My father,” she started. “Has he…”

“Retired for the night,” Chard replied. “But he expects a full debriefing tomorrow.”

This did not surprise her. “Understood. Thank you, Captain.”

Chard didn’t look finished, his brow creased with worry. Zelda waited. The captain glanced down the road, towards the guard chamber, and shook his head. “You have had a long journey. Get some rest, my princess.”

She forced a tired smile. “I will.”

It took another hour before Zelda could finally throw herself into bed. She sank her head into the pillows, feeling the fatigue in her bones. But her mind was still churning. One Champion left. Who would he be? Had she seen him before? As her eyes slid shut, Zelda clung to one final hope: there was one surefire way to discover the hero, and it lay untouched beneath this very castle. Nobody had attempted its trial for fear of death, and she doubted anyone would try soon. So there was still time… a dreamless sleep overtook her.

Zelda barely felt rested when her eyes suddenly snapped open. There was a strange noise coming from the window. She blindly stumbled from her bed and hurried over to see what was happening. The noise became louder, a scrabbling and grunting sound. She peered over the sill, frowning.

A stranger was scaling the wall. Zelda gasped. She must alert the royal guard - wait. She squinted harder as the climber hopped down from the last few feet and took off at a trot along the wall. Zelda recognised the cap perched on their head. No use alerting the royal guard over another royal guard… She crawled back beneath the covers, mumbling vague curses at the strange soldier.

The next time she awoke, it was to a tentative knocking on her door.

“Princess?” A handmaiden peeked in at her, embarrassed and uncertain at seeing Zelda bundled up in bedsheets. “It’s nearly 10 o’clock.”

Zelda groaned as she hauled herself up. She knew that she couldn’t blame oversleep from some soldier’s eccentric training routine, but no matter. Her father would surely make time for her report on the Champions. The handmaiden continued to fill her in as she got dressed for the day.

“…and the King is currently testing someone to see if he can be the Hylian Champion.”

Zelda gasped and nearly put a foot through the hem of her gown. “What?”

“There’s a demonstration in the eastern courtyard right now.” The handmaiden fumbled with all the annoying little buttons. Zelda shoved a diadem up her forehead to push her unbrushed hair back. “They say he’s the youngest knight in a-”

Zelda left the girl trailing off as she rushed down from her tower two steps at a time. There was no time to make it to the demonstration, but she knew where her father would bring him next. Zelda raced along the winding corridors of the castle, hiking up the skirt of her dress and missing her travel breeches dearly. Despite her misgivings about the hero in general, her father’s decision to test him without her presence stung. It wasn’t fair, she was trying—

The Hero of Time’s statue had already been moved. Zelda descended into the chamber. A cool draft made her shiver, and she already could see the brilliant colours of the sages’ windows before her.

She stopped on the stair, short of entering. Someone was on the dais. He had both hands around the hilt of the Master Sword, pulling with all his might. Zelda could not see his face, just the top of his head as he trembled with exertion. The Master Sword glowed, magical steam wafting round the boy as little by little, the blade of evil’s bane slid out of its pedestal.

Her heart sank when the boy held up the Master Sword. The light from the windows reflected off the blade to illuminate his face. He was young, not much older than she. His choppy blond hair was tied back in a careless ponytail, and his head barely cleared the King’s shoulder when congratulated. At the mention of her name, the new hero turned to ogle her with blinking blue eyes.

The sword had chosen, which meant the time had come. Zelda felt her face rearrange itself into a childish pout. She didn’t wait for her father to reprimand her in front of the new hero, turning instead to flee back the way she came.

As Zelda stomped away, she looked down at her hand. Bare, empty, powerless.

Chapter Text

“Very good,” King Rhoam said.

Zelda stood before him in his study. She kept her hands folded over her skirt and gaze fixated on the portrait above her father’s desk. Her mother smiled gently down at her.

This view was obscured when the King stood up. “Now that we have all five Champions, there is no use in keeping them a secret. It would boost the morale of the kingdom to show that we have a plan in place.”

“Yes,” Zelda agreed. “And we can strengthen ties with our Rito, Goron, Zora and Gerudo allies at the same time. Too long has Hyrule acted selfishly, only focusing on ourselves. We must protect the precious life of this land from the Calamity's grasp at all costs.”

The King laid a hand on her shoulder. “Your wisdom makes me proud, Zelda. I wish others could see your leadership. At the ceremony, I shall appoint you as commandant of the Champions. Hopefully, it will instill confidence in the Hylian court that you are capable. I’m counting on you.”

Zelda squeezed her fingers together tighter. His speech had begun so promisingly. But of course, he was right. Politics and diplomacy were thankless tasks when everyone only wanted her to be a saviour. At least he hadn’t mentioned the awkward fiasco down in the Master Sword chamber from earlier that day.

She followed her father out of the library and towards the gate of the castle. A delegation of Sheikah were scheduled to arrive this afternoon from Kakariko Village, including researchers and the leader of their tribe, Impa. Zelda had first met her two years ago, when she first requested to learn more about the ancient relics. That excavation had been a highlight of her childhood, and she’d had many in-depth conversations with Impa since - on relics and otherwise.

Sure enough, Impa stood at the head of her group. She was a lean, muscular woman in her late 20s. Her white hair was pulled back in a low bun, two locks tied neatly with ribbons at their ends framing her face. A large, three-lashed eye was tattooed upon her forehead, the teardrop trailing down her nose. Impa looked up from beneath the wide brim of a traditional Sheikah leader’s hat and led her people in bowing low when they approached.

King Rhoam greeted her warmly. “Impa, it’s good to see you’ve returned. We are grateful for your help in these tense times.”

Impa straightened. “It is only what we have pledged to do for generations. The Sheikah will always serve the royal family of Hyrule and the goddess’s chosen people.” Then, she turned to Zelda and smiled. “Princess, I am happy to see you well. I heard that you have found pilots for the Divine Beasts.”

“Yes. I’m hoping that with more understanding of the Guidance Stones, we can soon begin to train them.” Zelda glanced over the group of Sheikah assembled behind Impa. She had expected to recognise more faces.

Impa seemed to read her mind. “Purah and Robbie haven’t come with me, I’m afraid. We have found new items of interest that require a great deal of study and documenting. But they send you their love from the Royal Ancient Tech Lab and encourage you to come see for yourself whenever you can.”

Zelda’s spirits rose at once. “Wonderful! I can’t wait, thank you.”

The King cleared his throat. He, undoubtedly, was not pleased to hear of yet another distraction to her training, but this was a direct invitation from Impa. Zelda smiled to herself. They had just spoken of strengthening ties, so it would not do to reject the Sheikah leader.

She blinked with surprise when she realised someone was smiling back at her. A young Sheikah male stood just behind Impa’s shoulder. He did not have the sacred tattoo, but his robes were a fine material, indicating high status, and his hair was done up in an elaborate topknot.

When Impa moved to speak with the King, he walked over to her. “Princess Zelda, forgive my staring. I have only heard stories of your beauty, but it was not enough to prepare me for seeing you in person. My name is Utano.”

He sank to one knee before her, and she was forced to suppress a grin. It wasn’t the compliment - she’d experienced plenty of that in her lifetime - but the grave sincerity he had delivered it with. Utano started when she leaned down and touched his hand, urging him to stand. “You flatter me, Utano. What brings you to Hyrule Castle? You do not seem like the fighting type.”

Utano laughed. “As wise as you are beautiful, I should have known by your name! You are correct. I am no warrior, nor do I have much to contribute to the excavations here. My talents lies in the lyrical. Lady Impa told me that the royal family is in need of a court poet, so I hope to prove myself worthy of such a title. Would you allow me the honour?”

He certainly did have a way with words. It was on the excessive side, but Zelda didn’t mind a little theatricality. She liked the way he looked at her with obvious appreciation instead of expectation.

But before she could respond, another arrival interrupted them. Zelda stopped herself from sighing out loud as Captain Chard and the new hero marched up. The boy now carried the Master Sword strapped to his back. They had found a scabbard for it, painted Hylian blue with inlaid gold markings.

Chard saluted them, then stepped aside. The hero bowed quickly to the King, who enthusiastically gestured for him to come closer. The Sheikah, Utano included, murmured with pique and admiration when the sword glinted in the light.

“Impa, I present to you our Hylian Champion,” King Rhoam proclaimed. “Link!”

Zelda was pleased to see that Impa did not immediately congratulate Link, but studied him closely first. At long last, she spoke. “The weapon you wield has a long history. It did not choose you lightly. There must be great courage and strength within you, something I am sure we will witness time and again.”

Link thanked her with a single nod. The King motioned Zelda to come forward. She did so reluctantly, trying not to meet the hero’s eyes. It was difficult since they were almost exactly the same height.

“Link, I promote you to captain of the princess’s personal guard,” King Rhoam announced. “There will be an official ceremony in a few months’ time, but from now on you will be at her side, her second, at all times until the Calamity is defeated. As Champion of Hyrule, it is only right that you assist our future leader.”

Link knelt before Zelda. She felt her cheeks flush with shame. “But father-”

The King silenced her with one look. “You have informed me yourself of the growing boldness of our enemies. We will need to work together and protect ourselves in the coming battle.”

Zelda looked down at the flagstones. Impa glanced back at Chard. “You must be proud of your boy, Captain.”

His response was short and clipped. “He is a knight of Hyrule, just as I am and my father was before me. We will always serve the royal family in the best way we can. Whatever it takes, we understand our duty.”

Zelda had been too preoccupied with the trial, but now it was clear as crystal. Chard and Link both sported the same sandy blond hair, clear blue eyes, and sombre expressions.

“Indeed, duty is foremost in all things.” Impa turned to the King. “And with that, shall we examine the new findings?”

Again, Zelda was left behind as her father, Chard, Impa, and the other Sheikah began to walk away. For once, she didn’t feel like following them to the excavation site. She clenched her fingers into fists. So, the reward for negotiating important alliances was to be shackled with a chaperone. A chaperone her own age and height, so what did that say about their belief in her ability to take care of herself? Zelda exhaled sharply.

A polite cough broke her thoughts. Utano smiled sheepishly at her. “Princess, forgive me. But this is my first time at Hyrule Castle, and I’m afraid I would be lost if left to my own devices. It would be a blessing to find my way around it with you, however.”

“Of course,” Zelda said automatically. Utano offered her his elbow and they began to walk up the sloped path together.

“Er, Princess…” Utano looked over his shoulder. Link hadn’t moved, still perched on one knee several feet away. Zelda grimaced.

“Rise,” she called out to him. Link sprang from his feet back to attention, shoulders back and chin up. A military boy. What was she going to do with him? “Come along, then.”

Zelda did her best to ignore Link’s presence as she guided Utano around her home. It was surprisingly easy since Link continued to play mute through every corridor, stairwell, bridge and hall. Utano helped her fill up the silence with pleasant chatter. He responded enthusiastically to each anecdote concerning the history of the castle, even contributing a few tidbits of his own.

“Ah!” Utano raised his arms in delight as they reached the final location, the sanctum of Hyrule Castle. It was a large, circular room illuminated by tall windows on all sides. Maroon banners featuring the kingdom’s crest hung from balconies on the side. Zelda looked up and couldn't help seeing two high-backed thrones sitting side by side. One was her father’s. The other was draped with a simple white cloth, reminding her of a shroud.

“The triforce of Hyrule!” Utano pointed at the floor beneath their feet. Three triangles, connected at the corners, were engraved into the marble. Carpet had been carefully arranged not to obscure the designs carved into the stone: turbulent waves, encircling rings, and a cluster of pearls. “The marks of Din, Farore, and Nayru.” Utano beamed at Zelda. “It is said that the individual who possesses all three gifts from the golden goddesses shall have their dearest wish granted.”

“What would yours be?” Zelda asked.

Utano gazed around the room in reverence. “I don’t know, my princess. At this very moment, I am quite content.” Then he brightened. “Princess, do you know what that is?”

She shielded her eyes from the late afternoon sunbeams. Utano was pointing at the decoration above the thrones themselves. “It’s the triforce.”

“Oh, of course - but around it, on the sides.”

Like a strange, spiked halo, a series of intersecting bronze bars surrounded the golden triforce. Round discs rested on some of the lines, like marks on a graph. Zelda could make no heads or tails of it. She disliked looking at the thrones, anyway.

“It is musical notation,” Utano explained. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small instrument that fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. It resembled a fat teardrop with holes and a small stem protruding from one side. “This is an-”

“Ocarina,” Zelda finished for him. They looked at each other and laughed. Not that many people showed as much interest in the ancient legends. Zelda could tell that she was going to enjoy having Utano around.

“Not the ocarina, of course,” he apologised. “A paltry replica, but I will endeavour to please your ears with it.”

Utano lifted the tiny instrument. Zelda suddenly felt shock ripple through her when she immediately recognised the melody. The last time she’d heard it was from somebody else’s lips, someone who used to sit on the covered throne just a few dozen feet away.

Zelda quickly turned around so Utano wouldn’t see her expression, but that just brought her face to face with Link. She’d forgotten he was there. The hero was standing just behind the triforce on the floor, his toes right on the edge of Farore’s symbol. The hilt of the Master Sword peeked out from behind his right shoulder. Zelda, distracted by its proud gleam and the song’s plaintive tune, instinctively touched the back of her hand.

Link looked right into her eyes, then down to the floor. He’d noticed. Zelda dropped her arms at once, cursing inwardly.

“Princess?” Utano had stopped. He hurried to her side. “My apologies-”

“No, it’s nothing!” Zelda turned back around, slapping on a smile. “That was lovely, Utano. Thank you.”

The three of them filed out of the sanctum as the sun began to set. It was as if they had come to an unspoken agreement that this tour was over. Zelda heard herself create some excuse to retire early. Utano took his leave at the base of her tower.

“This has been the most enchanting afternoon,” he said to her. “I hope to see more of you, my princess.”

“Likewise,” Zelda responded warmly. Utano smiled and bent his head over her hand, lips lightly grazing her skin. Then he turned on his heel, almost colliding with Link before striding away.

Now, she was left with him. Zelda sighed. “Dismissed.”

Link hesitated. True, she was not actually in her chambers just yet - there were a few flights of open-air steps before reaching them. Confusion and exhaustion from this very complicated day welled up inside of her. Dropping all courtesies, she scowled at Link. “This is my home. I’ve never needed an escort to my own bedroom! Nobody would even dream of attacking me here in Hyrule Castle. Dismissed!”

Link bowed, reluctantly. “Yes, Princess.”

She was startled at the sound of his voice. It was nearly inaudible, just above a whisper. But following her command, Link was already headed down the slope. The sword on his back shone in the final rays of early evening. Zelda turned away from the sight and began the long ascent up.

He was waiting for her the next morning when she opened the door. And again the next morning. And the next. It was a slow month before Zelda finally became accustomed to Link’s ever-present shadow upon her back. She hated it so.

He tagged along behind her everywhere. Even to the Royal Ancient Tech Lab, where she was able to reunite with Purah and Robbie. Impa’s older sister gave her an enormous hug when she walked through the laboratory door.

“Princess!” Purah winked at her gleefully from behind her enormous, red-framed spectacles. It was strange to think that she was the leading academic of the Sheikah research team from her spunky, carefree demeanor, but Zelda was not fooled. “Finally. We were wondering what was taking you so long, eh, Robbie?”

Zelda heard a faint, affirmative grunt from a workstation on the other side of the room. It was covered in piles of excavated ancient technology. Tufts of white hair appeared above a thick pair of goggles. Robbie, head mechanic, pried them from his eyes before waving at Zelda with a heavily gloved hand. “Hm?…ah! Greetings, Princess. So good to see you again.”

“And who is THIS?” Purah had spotted Link. She leaned forward, seized his wrist and dragged the boy into the lab proper. Surprise flashed across his normally neutral face.

“Oh.” Zelda’s smile dropped, but nobody noticed. “This is Link. He’s just my escort.”

But Purah had twirled him around. She gasped loudly. “The sword! Robbie, come look!”

All the Sheikah researchers in the room swarmed upon Link, exclaiming to each other. Link glanced over his shoulder at Zelda, but she said nothing.

One of the researchers detached from the group, hands clasped together in excitement and hope. “Princess, please. May we study it? With the coming of the Calamity, we will need high grade weapons to protect Hyrule, and what better model to guide us than the sword that seals the darkness? Please! We shall of course make sure to equip the royal guard, depending on results…”

Zelda swallowed her irritation and shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him, not me.”

All of the Sheikah turned to Link, who silently pulled off the scabbard and handed it over. Zelda watched the vast majority of the group rush away with the sword, holding it reverently in their hands like it was a newborn babe.

Only Purah and Robbie remained. Purah giggled. “Oh, you gave them SUCH a field day… but I’ll need to thank you, because what we have here is very special. Good idea to open it in private.”

Zelda and Link sat at an empty workstation while Purah produced a small bundle. It was no larger than a book. As Purah began to undo the wrappings, Zelda saw that it was even smaller than a book - a very slim rectangular object with a handle at one end. Purah held it up. The Sheikah eye stared at them.

“I call it: the Sheikah Slate! Because it is a slate made by the Sheikah tribe.” Purah proudly offered the Slate to Zelda.

“A bit on the nose, don’t you think?” Zelda turned it over in her hands. The other side was smooth and cool to the touch. Zelda could see her reflection in the dark screen.

“That’s what I said,” Robbie said in an undertone as she handed it to him. “But that’s a fight we’re not going to win.”

Purah clapped her hands briskly. “Anyway! What I’ve been able to deduce is that this relic is made from the same material as the shrines we uncovered on your last trip, Princess. I’ve been hard at work deciphering the text along its edge. Again, it seems like only the hero is destined to make it work, so…”

Purah plucked the Sheikah slate from Robbie’s hands and held it out to Link. He didn’t accept, looking again at Zelda first. For the first time, she felt a jab of remorse. If she wanted the ancient technology to work, she would have to get over her pride.

“Go on,” she told him.

The four of them held their breath as Link carefully picked up the slate. Purah and Robbie leaned in eagerly as he ran his finger across the surface. Nothing happened.

Zelda breathed out relief, but Purah’s shoulders slumped. After a moment, she stood up, hands determinedly on her hips. “The greatest discoveries aren't going to be uncovered in a single snap! Back to the drawing board. We’ll crack this somehow! Don’t you worry, Princess.”

“Hm.” Robbie headed back to his station. “I’d worry if I were the hero, though. You’ll want that sword back.”

“Worry, worry, worry! It's all everyone does, these days.” Purah walked to a bookshelf and began picking out tome after tome of research notes. “But yes, I suppose you should check in on them to see that nobody’s cut themselves by accident.”

While Link set off to recover his weapon, Zelda sat down with Purah at her table. The scientist winked at Zelda again. “Not bad, Princess. Not bad at all.”

“What are you talking about?” Zelda picked up a dictionary and pulled a document over to translate. “It’s extremely obnoxious to be constantly followed. It’s a sign that father doesn’t trust me.”

“Oh dear, what a TERRIBLE burden, having that hunky Hylian soldier with you at ALL times-”

“Purah!” Zelda glared over the book, ears reddening.

Her friend giggled. “Take it easy, Princess. You know that it will be down to the two of you, in the end. Better get used to having him around.”

Zelda buried her head in ancient texts. Never mind humility. Pride was all she had left.

Chapter Text

It had been nearly two months, but Link was still getting used to his new life.

He accompanied the princess throughout the day, beginning from the moment she left her chambers to when she reentered them for the evening. Princess Zelda had many duties and spent much of her time hurrying from one end of the castle to the other, Link trailing at a careful distance of two and a half feet behind her.

The job itself was not difficult: watch the princess. He stood to the side while she sat through meeting after meeting. They faced minor courtiers who had complaints or compliments regarding the state of Hyrule and various household attendants requiring direction with the ceremony preparations. Link quietly followed the princess as they walked into yet another parlour to greet a fresh batch of frowns. She had a smile and infinitesimal patience for each person, listening carefully to their needs and offering promises or advice in return.

But that was the public Princess Zelda. The moment the door shut after the last session, the placid expression melted off her face and she’d sink into her chair, sighing.

On the occasional day when her schedule wasn’t full of mindless minutiae, Link followed the princess down to the underground passages where the Sheikah were excavating. They stood back and watched researchers tinker with the Guardians. Link would feel his muscles tense whenever one lurched a little too close, but Princess Zelda loved inspecting the machines. She wandered through the site on her own, patting their long legs and chatting animatedly with the Sheikah. She also brought the Sheikah Slate with her, holding it up to freshly dug up pieces, perhaps in the hopes that something would register and awaken the technology.

Though nothing happened, Princess Zelda did not give up easily. She would return to her study with pages of notes to pore over for the rest of the afternoon. When it came to her personal quarters, the princess usually ordered Link to wait outside. He became very familiar with the walkway between the princess’s bedroom and study.

He was shot with terror one evening when he heard a shriek through the closed door. On instinct, Link kicked the door open and reached for his sword at the same time. How could anyone have gotten to the princess before he—

Princess Zelda, whole and unharmed, glanced up at him from where she knelt on the floor, surrounded by messy piles of paper and holding the Sheikah Slate.

“Look!” She jumped up and rushed over, which sent another shock through his bones. “I did it!”

The Sheikah Slate was shoved in his face, and Link stared into an all-familiar eye, now glowing blue.

The princess glowed as well. “And I didn’t even need to use a Guidance Stone! You see, even if we thought there were no records of it, I found this document in the files I took from the lab last time. This word here, roughly translated to ‘start’, isn’t in the sense of beginning… more like ‘activate’. This same word over here!” She flipped the Slate to its smooth side, pointing at tiny scratching on the edge. “So, if we…” She pressed her finger against it.

Both she and Link jumped when the Slate hummed to life. Words began to flit over the screen. They flew by too quickly for him to read, then suddenly stopped to show a collection of small, colourful rectangles. Link thought they looked like miniature pictures, and sure enough, when the princess touched one, it zoomed out to fill the Slate’s screen. Princess Zelda gasped.

“That, that’s—”

“Death Mountain,” he finished, without thinking. But the princess was too enthralled to even care.

“It’s a perfect likeness,” she breathed. “What if…” she moved her finger and the picture changed. “Oh! It’s Vah Rudania!”

The mechanical lizard’s spiked tail was unmistakable. Princess Zelda froze, lips moving silently as she digested the new information.

“I think,” she whispered, trembling with excitement, “that we will soon find out how to train the Champions and their Divine Beasts.” She kissed the Sheikah Slate. “You beautiful, wonderful thing! I must show Purah.”

That was how Link found himself back at the Royal Ancient Tech Lab at nearly eight in the evening. He stood back and watched in bemused wonder as Purah and the princess screamed and hugged each other. Even Robbie had perched one foot on his workstation, bobbing his head furiously and banging his hammer in rhythm to the girls hopping around. Purah noticed Link hanging back as she bounced about, and she laughed at him.

“Come on, hero! Lighten up. We’ve cracked it, I said we would!”

“The princess did everything,” Robbie shouted. “Stop taking credit!”

Princess Zelda beamed and blushed at the praise. Link had to smile, too. Purah cackled with glee.

“The Calamity won’t know what hit it!” She stopped to pose, pumping her fist into the air with two fingers extended in a victory salute. “The old demon’ll conk right back to sleep once the Beasts give him a great big wallop... SNAP!”

“Along with the hero’s sword and princess’s powers,” Robbie reminded her. Princess Zelda’s smile faded.

That was the best of Princess Zelda: anything to do with the ancient Sheikah technology. Unfortunately, this job meant he also saw the worst of her.

Each day, at least once a day, the princess had to train. Link followed her down the silent corridors in the castle until they reached the Hero of Time’s statue. How strange, Link thought to himself as it slid back to reveal the hidden entrance, to return to the location of his trial. It hadn’t been too long ago.

The cold air sent goosebumps rising along his neck as he and the princess descended down the stairs. Once again, the enormous stone knights paid salute to him with their carved broadswords. Princess Zelda walked right past them to the triforce on the dais. She perched on her knees, folded her hands, shut her eyes, bent her head, and began to pray.

Usually, Link watched her do this from just outside the royal chapel, a tiny room filled with sacred imagery and a lonely altar. It was stuffy and the furthest thing away from inspiring. Sometimes, they even went into Castle Town to the cathedral. But today, the princess was seeking more. Performing the rituals of piety wasn’t enough; there had to be some other power she could try to harness instead. Now that the Master Sword had found a new home on Link’s back, perhaps it had left behind a touch of the goddess in its previous resting place…

There was even less for Link to do as the princess murmured in monotone. They were in a secret chamber that only the royal family knew about, so an enemy attack was highly unlikely. Link shifted his weight and refrained from slapping his arms. He would just have to deal with the chill.

He wondered how the stained glass windows managed to let in so much light, considering that they were supposed to be underground and hidden. Link looked over at the princess. She was absolutely still, not moving a muscle save for her lips forming silent supplication. But more importantly, she had her back to him.

He edged over to the pool of water that surrounded the dais. Ripples ringed out over the surface as Link carefully stepped in without making a sound. He waded over to inspect the windows further.

He felt small beneath the shining faces that stared him down: A fierce old man with the eyes of an owl fixed him with a perilous stare. A sombre Sheikah woman cast purple shadows over his skin as he moved past her. There was a serene smile from a childlike figure dressed in green, and the alluring gaze from a Zora girl with blue fins. Link turned from the sturdy Goron and smirking Gerudo to draw closer to the image in the centre.

The triforce pierced a golden sun that radiated beams of light over the mountains and meadows of Hyrule. But Link was captivated by what was beneath it: a monstrous pig-headed man wielding two swords, tusks protruding from either side of its snout. Its eyes were bare and lifeless, yet they shone with a hunger that he knew could not be sated.

Link took one look at those hollow eyes, and his hand flew up to grab the Master Sword. It unsheathed with a sharp slither of steel and a loud splash as the blade hit the water.

“LINK!”

He stumbled, causing more water to slop up his trousers. Link looked up, soaked past the knee, and saw Princess Zelda glowering at him through a space between the stone knights.

“What do you think you’re doing, splashing around down there?” The princess’s eyes looked bloodshot.

“Sorry,” he said immediately.

“You broke my concentration. Put that away.”

“Sorry,” he repeated, feeling very foolish.

“Just because you’ve got the sword now doesn’t mean you have to wave it in everyone’s face!” Princess Zelda turned away, but her voice still carried down to him. “I’m well versed in the need to catch up. I don’t need such blatant reminders.”

“Sor—”

“Ugh. It doesn’t matter.” Her sandals slapped on the stone floor as she stalked towards the exit. “Just… pointless. I knew this would be pointless.”

Link hastened after her, acutely aware of the embarrassing puddles he was leaving in the castle’s most secret, sacred place. He was forced to make an inelegant scramble up the last few steps before she pushed the statue back over the entrance. Princess Zelda didn’t even apologise for almost trapping him in, her long white ceremonial dress twisting round her legs as she walked.

“Don’t follow me,” she snapped when he reached her. Link stopped, watching her storm down the corridor on her own before squelching back to the Guards’ Chamber in waterlogged boots.

Princess Zelda blew hot or cold at the drop of a hat, he never knew what it would be. As the time ticked on, he learned to recognise signs, hints to her feelings. She blushed to the tips of her ears when embarrassed. She bit her lips when concentrating, usually while reading. When she was excited about something, her green eyes would widen, like they were trying to take in everything at once. She touched the back of her hand when anxious.

He watched her a lot. That was the job, after all.

Since the princess usually stayed within her bedroom until midmorning, Link was still able to join his fellow guardsmen for breakfast and morning training. It was no longer easy to blend into the crowd of dishevelled, lumbering men with the Master Sword in his possession. He returned from his sunrise run one day to discover the chamber already buzzing with energy. But a hush settled over it as he walked back to where he had left the sword leaning against the wall. Link kept his head down and slipped the scabbard onto his shoulder, pretending not to hear the badly veiled whispering.

Soldiers shuffled out of his path when he picked up his breakfast and looked for a place to sit. Link could hear the scratches of bench legs and scuffle of boots behind him, and felt their shadows fall over his back where the Master Sword rested.

Arrin and Leigh sat at a table in a far corner.

"There he is!" Leigh said. "The boy who seals the darkness!"

"The sword does the sealing," Arrin corrected.

"And who does the swording?" Leigh snickered at himself as Link clambered over the bench. "This tiny runt. I can hardly believe it myself."

Arrin rolled his eyes before adding another piece of bread to Link's bowl.

"So tell us," Leigh said eagerly as Link polished off the additional food, "what is it like to serve the princess? I mean, it must be far more pleasant than staring into the sun on sentry duty. Lucky you! To gaze upon her loveliness each day while Arrin and I have nothing but each other's old mugs."

He clapped his hand on Link’s shoulder and squeezed it. Even Arrin looked amused. "The princess takes leave of the castle often. I imagine you'll be accompanying her on those trips too."

"Such luck!" Leigh cried out again. "A wonderful romp round Hyrule with the most beautiful girl in the land. Link, if you don't mind, can't we swap roles for just a while? I'm sure that sword gets heavy."

Arrin laughed as they stood up. "Are you sure you want to be the hero? You hardly seem the type, my friend."

"I beg your pardon," Leigh said. “Nobody even asked if I was interested!”

It was much easier to ignore the elbow nudges and turned heads with friends. Link kept himself between the two taller guards as they walked out into the courtyard. But when Link began to head towards the training area, Leigh stopped him.

"Here we must leave you, boy of swording," he said. "We've been assigned to the docks for the day."

"There’s going to be an endless line of cargo to be checked," Arrin grumped, "and hauled up all those stairs. This ceremony better be worth the hassle…"

They ducked into the East Passage, leaving Link alone. He picked up a training sword and shield, then turned around. A cluster of soldiers nearby immediately paired off and moved away from him, the odd man out hurrying to grab someone else from a different group. Link walked around, looking for a partner. Nobody made eye contact, mumbling to each other and flexing their fingers apprehensively.

One soldier was still alone. He was taking a final sip from a tin cup that he tossed onto the straw, then he wiped his mouth on the back of his glove before taking up a training sword as well. He gazed round in mild surprise at the attention on him until he noticed Link. Before anything else happened, the soldier immediately threw down his weapons and backed away, hands up. Some of the others began to laugh at his cowardice. Link felt his cheeks burning as he turned to walk out of the courtyard, also discarding his own training tools.

It was barely 7:00. Link wasn't ready to be scolded by the princess this early in the day, and he wasn't welcome in his own garrison. He walked around the castle grounds, trying to measure his breathing. Eventually, he came upon the archery range at the northern part of the castle grounds. Link snatched up a bow and notched it. He almost cut himself, the men's laughter still ringing in his ears.

He failed the first three attempts. His fingers were trembling too much. He compensated by gripping the bow so tightly that his knuckles went white. Link let out a low snarl when his fourth arrow didn't even make the target, bouncing off the stone wall instead.

"Relax your bow arm."

He was so startled that he dropped the fifth arrow, which skittered harmlessly to the flagstones. Link looked up to see his father leaned against a doorway.

"Position yourself perfectly in line with the target." Chard walked over, took Link's arm and pulled it up, higher than he had been doing. "A straight line."

Link drew the string, lifting his hand to his cheek. Chard pressed a hand against his right elbow. “Shoulder blades back, push against me. More. More.”

Link strained his arm against his father’s palm.

“Feel that resistance?”

Link nodded.

“That’s proper back tension. You haven’t increased your draw length at all, but you’re in proper alignment.” Chard stepped away, leaving Link taut and tense. “Now, shoot.”

Link let go. It embedded itself into the bullseye with a solid thud.

Chard strolled over and plucked it out, picking up the other five arrows along the way. “It’s unlike you to forget about form.”

Link looked at his feet. His father handed the arrows back to him. “ Enemies won’t wait like docile goats to give you the time to adjust your stance. The field and everything comes with it is distracting by nature. Emotions, adrenaline, terrain… even your charge. None of that you can control. You are the only thing you can control. Make sure you are in control.”

“I understand,” Link said.

Chard regarded him with an arched eyebrow. “Next time, mounted practice.”

“Yes, sir.”

Chard actually smiled. “The princess will be awake soon.”

Link matched his father’s stride as they left the archery range. They passed through the courtyard with the other soldiers at their own training. They lowered their swords when Chard and Link passed, but the captains strode forward, looking neither right or left. They entered the castle and went up several flights of stairs to the western wing.

Double doors opened to reveal, as usual, Princess Zelda's unhappy face. It smoothed into surprise at the sight of Chard. "Good morning, Captain."

"Good morning, Princess," Chard replied. He nodded to his son. "Sir Link."

Then he walked away, leaving Link on his own with the princess.

Chapter Text

The day of the ceremony finally came. The castle teemed with activity. Attendants rushed to fulfill last minute tasks, courtiers twirled about in their finest, and the soldiers stood guard nervously in shining armour. Link was not one of them. He waited just outside the castle sanctum with Princess Zelda. Three feet between them, as always.

Royal ceremonies were short, but big. It took the entire morning simply to receive guests.

The Rito were the first to arrive. Castle Town citizens craned their necks and shaded their eyes to follow five majestic birdlike forms soaring over them. Their shadows breached the walls of Hyrule Castle easily. Though four of them alighted at the second gatehouse, one of them suddenly fell back, seeming to plunge down into the castle moat. Link saw a few guards hurry over. Then, they stumbled back, as if buffeted by a gale. A lone Rito, dark and tall, shot several metres into the sky, going from the ground to the clouds in less than a minute. The Hylian court oohed and aahed as he performed a double somersault in mid-air before producing a great carved bow. Still free falling, the Rito loosed three arrows simultaneously, and they erupted into a shower of glitter and gold upon the castle. Hylians cheered and applauded when he finally came to land before them.

He strode up to the royal family, straight backed, beak raised, and radiating absolute confidence. “Your Grace.” He bowed low towards the King. “Princess.” He acknowledged Princess Zelda with a deep nod. “And…” He turned and stared hard at Link. His dark feathers were tipped in white, with narrowed green eyes that lent him an even shrewder look. Around his neck was the bright blue Champion’s cloth, loosely knotted like a scarf. The image of his Divine Beast had been embroidered at one end.

Princess Zelda stepped forward, her arms open wide in the universal gesture of welcome. “Revali, Champion of Vah Medoh,” she said, “we are so fortunate to have you here.”

Revali’s mouth twitched, as if he almost wanted to agree. But instead, he extended a wing to the princess, touching her hand briefly. “It is an honour to represent the Rito at this event,” he stated. His companions appeared on the path, finally joining him. Revali took his leave with another bow and nod, then side eyed Link hard before sauntering inside.

The Zora were next, rising from the water in the docks below the castle. Captain Chard was there to meet them, escorting Princess Mipha and her followers up to where the ceremony would be held. Link saw the glint of silver headwear before Mipha herself, though this was also in part from the fact she was flanked on either side by the strongest, most formidable Zora Knights. They all eyed the thick castle walls and crowds of Hylians warily. Link knew that each one of them would not hesitate to give their lives for Mipha. Her Champions’ cloth had been bound as a sash, nicely matching the jewellery that dangled from her fins and limbs.

She and the princess exchanged the expected pleasantries, though she often glanced over at Link. As Mipha was ushered inside, she looked back to smile warmly at him. He felt some of his anxiety melt away. At least there was one person here who wouldn’t be expecting him to perform.

There was a low rumble in the distance, quickly followed by cries of surprise and alarm. The crowd scattered as two enormous rocks came rolling uphill towards Link and the royal family. They unfurled to reveal themselves as two Gorons, the larger one being the great Daruk, leader of the Goron. He ran stubby fingers through his wild, white hair and grinned excitedly, barely registering the princess’s greeting.

“LINK!!!” Daruk thundered past Princess Zelda to crush Link in an enormous bear hug. “I knew it would be you! Nobody else handles a sword like my little Hylian brother. HA!”

When Link’s lungs finally inflated again, he could hear Daruk proudly introducing his son to the King and princess. The young Goron stuttered and bowed until Daruk dragged him away into the sanctum, waving cheerfully at the awed Hylian court. His gigantic sword’s chains clinked over his Champion’s cloth, also bound as a sash - but just barely.

Finally, an entire platoon of Gerudo warriors appeared just before noon with Chief Urbosa at its head. They drove up the path in gleaming chariots behind spirited horses, not unlike the way they harnessed sand seals in the desert. Urbosa stepped down from her ride in full Gerudo regalia: shining golden armour with burnished accents of bright colours. Her Champion’s cloth, wrapped like a skirt over swaggering hips, fluttered with the image of Vah Naboris as she strode directly to the King. They clasped hands like old friends before Urbosa turned to the princess. For the first time that morning, Princess Zelda looked genuinely happy. She even laughed with the King when Urbosa shared a joke, in undertones so soft only the three of them could hear.

Link was so engrossed in observing this new behaviour from the princess that when the Chieftain addressed him personally, he was almost caught off guard.

“So,” Urbosa drawled, looking him over with a critical eye. “You are he? The boy with the sword who seals the darkness.”

Link reached up and pulled out the Master Sword out of its scabbard. It swung easily through the air, catching a glint in the sunlight. The other Gerudo muttered to each other in begrudging respect.

Urbosa smiled at him, impressed. “Welcome to our team, hero. It’s good to have you with us.”

Now that they were all here, the ceremony could begin. Link joined his fellow Champions in the inner circle of the sanctum. Representatives of each of the five nations stood around the outside. Link recognised Sergeant Seggin of the Zora standing behind Mipha, and of course, Daruk had only brought his son. He sneaked a glance over his shoulder. His father, dressed in full traditional royal guard gear, frowned at him. Link quickly turned back around.

The Hylian court filled the balconies, and the castle garrison stood in formation on the floor. Princess Zelda walked slowly to the triforce in the centre. She took her place within the three triangles, then looked up, arms stiffly at her sides.

King Rhoam stepped forward, the two thrones of Hyrule at his back.

“Welcome, warriors!” His voice boomed across the vast hall. “I’d like to thank you for joining me here today, and for your bravery in accepting this fateful task. I officially appoint you Hyrule’s Champions and bestow upon you this sacred garb.”

He gestured to the Champions. “That blue is a symbol of the Royal Family, one that has been passed down for countless generations. Those garments you now wear were all crafted by my daughter, Zelda.”

Link’s Champion cloth was the most unique. It had been fashioned into a tunic, and the outline of the master sword trailed down his front. While being measured for it, one of the princess’s handmaidens had stared pointedly at his bare torso then giggled, loudly. Link nearly fell over when Princess Zelda immediately looked up at him and glared. It had been so fierce that he nearly apologised until he thought better of it. There was no use - she’d dropped her gaze just as quickly. Link remained red-faced for the duration of the fitting, willing himself not to wince when pins came dangerously close to his skin.

He felt his cheeks warming up at the memory, almost missing the last of the ceremony. King Rhoam’s voice softened ever so slightly as he named his only child.

“Zelda.” She stood a little straighter, the sunbeams streaming from the windows and falling over her face, lighting it up with a gentle glow. “I trust you with the task that only a daughter of the royal family can fulfill. Lead our Champions, Princess, and together, protect our kingdom from the threat of Calamity Ganon!”

Silence reigned as everyone waited breathlessly for the princess’s reply. Link saw her fingers twitch, but Princess Zelda stopped herself in time and announced, clearly and calmly, “I will.”

The castle burst into celebration as fireworks danced across the midday sky.

Ceremonies were short, but receptions took forever. Guests would remain at the castle all day, enjoying a light luncheon in the dining hall before participating in a full-on banquet in the evening. Link appreciated how these events had been organised around meals, but the social expectations that came with them were enough to ruin one’s appetite. He had barely enough time to eat three mushroom rice balls before being accosted by strangers. The moment he had set down his plate, it had immediately disappeared and he couldn’t even go looking for a new one for all the interruptions. Link was beginning to feel quite overwhelmed after four Hylian nobles, a Rito envoy, and two rather menacing Gerudo Warriors had all stopped him to, respectively, give him their profuse congratulations (which made him feel embarrassed), ask his opinion on the Hylian defense plans (which made him feel awkward and uninformed) and demand an inspection of the Master Sword (which made him very uncomfortable as they proceeded to salivate over it. They were even worse than the Sheikah at the Research Lab).

He had finally found the honey crepe that was calling his name when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Link groaned and turned around, but this time, he found Mipha beaming at him instead.

“Hello, Link,” she said. “It’s been ages.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“You’ve grown so much!” She raised her hand to indicate the differences in their heights. “I remember when you were only yea high. You’re no longer the child you were when we first met, that’s for sure.”

Link shrugged. He hadn’t been back to Zora’s Domain in about five years. Shortly after that departure, Link had then been sent off to train in the Military Camp and Chard promoted to the King’s personal guard. Once Link had been knighted, there was little reason for either of them to leave Castle Town. It seemed the only way he’d end up leaving Hyrule Kingdom at all now was if Princess Zelda chose to.

He looked past Mipha to take a peek at the princess. She was nodding earnestly at a Zora Knight who was in the middle of a heated diatribe. She was rubbing the back of her hand, as usual.

Mipha continued. “I have to say, I am so proud of you. An accomplished knight, and the keeper of the sword that seals the darkness…”

“Hey there, LINK!!!”

Mipha gave a little start as Daruk towered over her, arms akimbo and his slab-like teeth bared in a huge grin.

“Hylian Champion! I can’t think of a better brother for the job. I’d expect nothin’ less from you, little guy!” Daruk chuckled when he saw the half-eaten crepe in Link’s sticky fingers. “Keeping full, that’s the ticket! There’s some good eats here, I’m sure. But give me some gourmet sirloin rock any day, eh? I’d like to speak to the chefs and share some recipes. If they plan to invite more of us Gorons over, they’d better prepare these luncheons right.”

Mipha looked disappointed that their private conversation had been cut short, but Daruk proceeded to offer Link a spicy meat skewer, declaiming the virtues of Goron spice. Mipha’s clouded face turned to amusement when Link sampled the fiery taste. Link finally began to feel like things were looking up as he laughed with his friends.

“Fellow Champions,” called a voice behind them. Link turned, wiping his mouth quickly when Chief Urbosa reached them, followed by Revali and Princess Zelda.

Urbosa addressed them all. “I think it’s time for a break. Let us agree to meet in the gardens shortly. The princess has something to show us. If anybody protests, tell them that we’ve decided to begin tackling the issue of the Calamity without any delay. We’ll be back in time for the banquet, of course.”

Revali arched an eyebrow. Daruk scratched his head. Mipha blinked, but Link looked at the princess. Her face looked pale and drawn. He nodded. Urbosa was satisfied. “In half an hour, then.”

They reconvened in the western gazebo. The castle gardens were mostly empty and very quiet save for the twittering of birds and burbles from the rushing waterfall flowing nearby. Link waited with Daruk, who was stretching his arms. “I tell ya, those formal shindigs really take it outta me. Good idea this was, to get away from it for a while.”

Princess Zelda had brought her Sheikah Slate down from her study. She explained that it would be the key to help them control their Divine Beasts. Urbosa, Mipha, and Revali clustered around her, peering at the small tablet.

“Hmph.” Revali took it from the hands of the princess, holding it up with two feathery fingers. “This is the Sheikah Slate, eh? Doesn’t seem like much.”

“Apparently, there are more uses for it than we originally thought. Sadly, we’ve yet to decipher all of its secrets.” Now that she was back with her beloved ancient technology, Princess Zelda had resumed some of her feisty attitude. She held her head high as Revali handed the Sheikah Slate to Mipha. Urbosa leaned in for a better look.

“The princess showed me something strange, recently,” she commented. “Somehow, it can create true-to-life images.”

Mipha’s eyes widened as she held the Slate with both hands. “I would love to see it.” She suddenly looked stricken and turned to Princess Zelda. “Um, Princess… may I ask a special favour of you?”

She turned around and looked right at Link, which meant so did Revali, Urbosa, and the princess. Even Daruk tilted his head at him. Link was completely nonplussed. The attention was unsettling.

“Let’s commemorate this moment,” Mipha said quickly. “It’s the first time that all the nations of Hyrule have been so unified in almost ten thousand years. I’d love to have a memory, something I can treasure for the rest of my life.”

Link was surprised when Princess Zelda agreed. He was not surprised when a photographer was fetched, and said photographer turned out to be Purah. She stood on a stone bench and began hollering orders in that shrill, trumpeting voice of hers.

“Out of the gazebo! We’ll need light! Alright, this spot should work nicely. Princess in the centre, with the rest of you around her! Eyes on the Sheikah Slate, everyone!” Purah squinted at the Slate’s screen. “Daruk, could you crouch down a bit? You’re as big as Death Mountain.”

Chains clanked as Daruk hunkered down behind them all. Purah smiled sympathetically. “What’s with the glum face, Princess? Give me a big smile!”

Princess Zelda simply stiffened. Urbosa put a hand on her shoulder. Purah nodded. “Revali, move your tail closer to the group.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Mipha, you look sooooo tense. Deep breaths, okay?”

Link glanced over. Mipha seemed shocked at the observation, even turning a little red. “R-right.”

Purah giggled and gave them her two-fingered salute. “Just like that! Yes! Smiiiiiiiile… click, SNAP!”

Link had no intention of smiling, mainly because he doubted anyone else would. But on Purah’s final shout, he felt the force of ten-tonne boulders suddenly smashing into his left shoulder, and heard the yelps and gasps and laughs of the other Champions as they were knocked together, the Sheikah Slate blinding them all in the same moment.

Link saw later what the Slate had captured: Daruk roaring with laughter as he hugged them all close, causing Mipha to slip and Revali to stumble with a very undignified squawk. Princess Zelda gasping and leaning away from the flailing Rito — right into Link, who had felt his heart stop completely when the princess’s hand brushed against his chest. Only Urbosa had remained calm, a smile on her lips as she surveyed the perfect chaos around her.

Princess Zelda was mortified, but eventually convinced by Mipha and Purah not to delete the picture from the Slate until they had made a few physical versions with Robbie’s new invention, a printing device to assist copying documents. Somehow, he got his Guidance Stone to sync with the Sheikah Slate and transfer the picture. To Princess Zelda’s chagrin, Purah chose to frame her copy and hang it right by the entrance of the Royal Tech Lab. Every time she and Link visited, they were forced to walk by it, both entering and leaving.

The princess would clench her jaw and stalk by as quickly as possible, her ears reddening. But Link always made sure to take his time and get a good look: at Princess Zelda instinctively, unconsciously, but unmistakably reaching for him.

Chapter Text

It was raining in Hyrule Ridge, as usual. Link felt water soaking through his hood as his horse plodded along the path. The downpour was so dense that he could barely see Princess Zelda’s white stallion ahead of him.

A few weeks after the Champions’ Ceremony, Purah declared that the issue of piloting the Divine Beasts had been solved. The pictures found on the Sheikah Slate were ten thousand years old, depicting the first time the Beasts had been set into motion. After close examination of the pictures (copied and enlarged with Robbie’s trusty printer) they had determined important clues in how the pilots had controlled their Beasts. It was vital information that had to be shared at once.

Impa, Purah, Robbie, and Princess Zelda agreed to split up and train a Champion each. The princess would continue to check on each Champion afterward to make sure that each Beast and its pilot continued to function well. Link found himself preparing for a journey across the kingdom, just as Arrin had predicted.

So far, it had not been a fun adventure. Thunder boomed dangerously close in Link’s ears. Hearing a sizzle of electricity dance down the Master Sword’s blade, he urged his horse onward. Link tried to see if the princess had any exposed metal on her person, but she had also donned a hood. She didn’t look back, not even once.

Shortly after the Sheikah Slate fiasco in the castle gardens, Daruk had attempted to salvage the situation by proposing that they properly inaugurate Link into the Champions’ fold. All of them had undergone such a ritual back in their homelands when they had accepted the princess’s offer, but Link had simply been appointed by the King. Mipha seconded the option so enthusiastically that Princess Zelda had no choice but to agree.

The five of them journeyed out of Castle Town to the Sacred Grounds. Link knelt before Princess Zelda over the holy spring, and she intoned words of blessing over his bent head in the most listless voice possible. His fellow Champions failed to keep their own voices down as they conversed amongst themselves.

“Gee, this is uplifting,” came Daruk’s rumbling baritone. “She’s making it sound like we’ve already lost!”

“You’re the one who wanted to designate the appointed knight with all the pomp, grandeur and nonsense we could muster!” Link had only met him that day, but he already knew he would recognise Revali’s sneering voice for the rest of his life. “ If you ask me, the whole thing seems like overkill.”

“I just thought—”

“I’m on the same page as the princess in regarding this…” Link heard Revali inhale sharply. “Boy.”

Jewellery tinkled softly, and Link imagined Urbosa turning her head to shoot Revali a stern look. “Oh, give it a rest. That boy is a living reminder of her own failures.”

Mipha did not speak. Perhaps it was a silent protest on Link's behalf, or merely embarrassment to be associated with someone in such disfavour with the princess. He decided not to look up at any of them. It was better if nobody knew he heard.

But it had been enough to make him worried about being left alone with the princess for the two day journey it would take to Rito Village - until he learned that they wouldn’t be alone. One of the Sheikah had volunteered to accompany them. He had been to Hebra before, he promised, and possessed a “personal kinship” with the Rito.

“They have a most wonderful literary tradition,” Utano the court poet told Princess Zelda. “Of passing their history down through song and dramatic storytelling. It’s been a significant influence on my own artistic pursuits, and I believe my pilgrimage back to their nest is long overdue.”

Right now, Utano’s horse trotted along riderless. He had insisted on getting down into the mud to lead Princess Zelda’s horse through the storm until they all arrived to safety. Horses were living creatures with common sense. They knew, far better than some posh musician who spent most of his time lounging on cushions and dreaming up ditties, where to go if danger were to appear. But if Utano wanted to get drenched and dirty in the name of pretending to be useful, Link let him.

He certainly had been no help in the Breach of Demise, yammering on at the top of his lungs about the beginnings of Hyrule’s history one dark, fateful day when the earth cracked wide and malevolent forces rushed forth. Link was hardly surprised when monsters came streaming out of a skull-shaped cave, waving their spiked clubs and snarling. Then, while he was the one blocking arrows and chopping off bokoblin horns, Utano had made a big scene of standing in front of the princess with his tiny leather Sheikah shield, making exclamations of shock and horror every time one of the creatures squealed its last.

Princess Zelda, in contrast, seemed unperturbed by the violence. Once the coast was clear, she immediately headed over to the cave to study the crude structures and tools. Not once did she complain about the smell. She even crouched down and scooped up some of the monster guts into a bottle with her bare hands.

“Elixir ingredients,” she explained to Utano as he stared at her blood-stained fingernails. “Considering our itinerary,this will certainly be valuable when we go to Eldin.”

“Astounding,” Utano responded, his complexion taking on a delicate shade of green. He followed the princess’s example in completely ignoring Link. Sometimes he rode so close to her that their horses’ tails mingled with each twitch. Their voices would carry down the road to Link, the poet’s singing mixed in with Princess Zelda’s laughter.

The princess thought Utano was entertaining. Link found him utterly tiresome.

“Princess!” Said poet’s voice cut through the relentless patter. “There’s the stable!”

A dark smudge, barely resembling a horse’s head, loomed up ahead between the tall, mushroom-like trees that dotted the ridge. Link leaned forward and patted his horse’s neck in thanks when they rounded the bend and saw lanterns glowing in the fog.

Utano and Princess Zelda dismounted and entered the stable right away, leaving all three horses to Link. A groom helped him to clean and feed the animals. Link felt sweaty and tired himself once the task was done, but when the white stallion nipped at his fringe affectionately, he did feel a bit better.

“You’re welcome,” he told the royal steed. It snorted in his face. Link wrinkled his nose, then left the stalls for the comforts of the inn.

The interior of the stable was a single, spacious, circular room. The floor was hardwood, and a tall mast in the centre rooted the tent-like structure to the ground. Rain continued to rattle on the tarp walls, but they held snugly. Link gratefully accepted a bowl of steaming stew from one of the staff.

Princess Zelda was sitting by herself at one of the tables, writing in a small journal. She looked up when he sat down across from her, but didn’t stop him. “We’ll wait out the weather here.”

Link nodded. He could see curtains round one of the beds. That surely was for the princess. He and Utano would be treated like regular clients. Link looked round the stable as vegetable broth disappeared from his bowl. Save for the workers, the stable was very quiet and rather empty.

“Utano is speaking to a merchant,” Princess Zelda said, answering his unspoken question. “He might not join us in arriving at Rito Village, but come later instead.”

“Okay,” Link said.

“If we leave first thing in the morning, we can arrive before midday.”

“Okay.”

Princess Zelda stood. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then abruptly closed it. She walked to her prepared bed, disappearing behind the curtains.

It had been a long time since Link had had the luxury of a real mattress. Too luxurious, he decided, turning over a few times during the night. The straw-stuffed pallet sank beneath his weight, giving him the strange sensation of being sucked down into a bog of unbearable softness. Somehow, he managed a few hours of restless sleep and got up at daybreak.

The rain had cleared. Link walked out of the stable and was greeted with a beautiful, cold morning. Dew glistened on the grass and fish glided in the clear shallows round the roots of the tall mushroom trees. Their caps broke through the mist like floating discs. The horses nickered softly to Link as he walked nearer to the cliffside. Mountains of red, grey, and white called from a distance. Colourful strips of green and orange cloth fluttered in the breeze from Tabantha Great Bridge. Link heard a faint rumbling noise, but it was so distant that he couldn’t be sure of what it was.

One of the stable workers in a snug, wool-lined hat came over and offered him some steamed egg pudding. Link gladly accepted breakfast as the worker affirmed their route. “It’s easy. Just follow the path to Totori Lake. About three hours if you don’t stop. Make sure you try their nutcake. Good people, the Rito.”

Link remembered his encounters with Revali and hoped that this was true. Soon, the misty morning chill gave way to a balmy sun. He waved to the stable worker from the back of his horse, galloping along behind the princess.

She rode fast and hard with her long yellow hair rippling behind her. If Link didn’t know better, it was almost like she was trying to be rid of him. He could hear his horse panting with every stomp of its hooves as they weaved between pale cliffs.

After a long, silent ride, Link had his first view of Rito Village when the horses burst from a narrow tunnel. They were in the heart of a long-dormant volcano’s caldera, where the fallen ash had created a rich soil for evergreen trees to grow thickly. Lake Totori shone a deep blue beneath tall pillars of cream-coloured rock that rose from its depths. Link saw wooden bridges connecting the islands together until they reached the trademark formation of the village: a towering knobbly spire of stone ending in an enormous boulder. It was very round on on end, but then tapered off into a long, thin branch, like a duck’s bill.

They boarded their horses at the nearby stable, then proceeded on foot towards the village. Dozens of Rito flew in the air above them. The outpost on the first island hailed warm greetings to Princess Zelda before directing her to the next one where the famed Rito Mail Centre was set up. It was busy with arriving and departing postmen who helped ferry packages, letters, and other important correspondence throughout all of Hyrule Kingdom. The third island already featured several traditional Rito homes: airy cage-like structures that were suspended off the rocks and over the lake. Brightly coloured woven cloths hung from the eaves for decoration. Rito parents did their best to prevent their children from running after the princess onto the next bridge. The little fledglings twittered when they saw the Master Sword, then erupted into whistling squeals of glee when Link waved back at them.

Just as he crossed the final plank of bridge into the village proper, they were suddenly engulfed in shadow. Princess Zelda turned around, her eyes widening.

Divine Beast Vah Medoh hovered in the sky like an enormous stone hawk. The details were uncanny: outstretched wings with individual feathers, a pair of legs with curled talons, even a skeletal ribcage. Link saw propellers churning underneath, glowing the brilliant Sheikah blue. Link squinted up at the single figure who stood at the tip of Medoh’s beak. Revali raised his wings and dived off the edge of his Divine Beast, zooming down to meet them in a single sweep.

He perched on a higher step so he could stare Link down. “Welcome back to Rito Village, your highness.”

Princess Zelda was already reduced to gaping and gasping. “Revali! How were you able to activate your Divine Beast? I was told that it was still in its excavation site in the tundra, but clearly that is no longer the case! Did you use the Guidance Stone? How do you find the controls? Not only is Medoh capable of aerial movement, but our sources hint at unique defense mechanisms to prevent unwanted riders. Did that hinder you in any capacity? Have you-”

Revali raised a wing. “Princess, please. One at a time.”

She stopped, but a pencil and her journal had already appeared in her hands. “Ah, yes. My apologies.”

Revali began striding up the spiraling stair, and Princess Zelda hurried to keep pace with him. “This morning, I was training at my personal site over in the mountains. Nothing too strenuous, just a few dozen laps around the peaks and maintaining my archery skills. Sadly, I discovered that hitting three targets at once no longer holds any challenge. I shall have to double - no, triple that number next time.”

“The Divine Beast, Revali.”

“Of course. Well, such basic training only took up an hour of my time, so it was still early when I heard it. Like an eagle’s cry, but harsher and louder - borderline cacophonous. I used my new technique to gain a vantage point, higher than any other Rito can reach, higher than the clouds. For a moment I thought there might have been an avalanche, but instead Medoh burst out of the snow and rose into the sky. It was quite an entrance, I will admit. That was at around sunrise, and it’s been circling the village since.”

Princess Zelda nodded, tripping over another step as she hurriedly jotted everything down. “So it began to fly unmanned.”

“Yes. I went in and took a look around, but only managed a cursory glance. Nobody else has dared to land.” Revali smirked. “A wise decision. But Medoh recognises its master.”

They had reached the top. Revali gestured to the structure at the end. “The elder is ready to see you. I shall meet with you later.”

“Alright,” Princess Zelda said. Her eyes were still raised to the sky, staring longingly at Medoh.

Revali bowed to her before lifting off into the air again. Link’s cheeks stung with the winds that whipped his hair. Princess Zelda put away her journal reluctantly. Link was about to follow her until she looked over and frowned. “This is a private meeting between the Rito elder and myself. The Rito are our allies. I will be fine.”

“What should I do?”

“I don’t know.” She turned on her heel and left him alone.

The only direction to go was down. Link ended up wandering onto a large wooden landing. It had been busy with the comings and goings of Rito during their ascent, but at the moment it was quiet and empty. He looked up at Medoh sailing through the vast blue sky between wisps of pale cloud. He could understand the princess’s ardour. The Beast was an awesome sight.

Suddenly, the wind blew harder again. It snatched at his clothes and even the Master Sword’s scabbard knocked into his shoulder blade. Link braced himself as a miniature cyclone formed before his eyes, and Revali burst forth from the blast to land with both feet on the railing before him.

He looked down smugly at Link. “Impressive, I know. Very few can achieve mastery of the sky.”

Link simply stared as Revali struck a pose, flexing one wing. “With proper utilisation of my superior skills, I see no reason why we couldn’t easily dispense with the Calamity.” Revali hopped down from the railing and began to circle Link. “Let’s not forget that I am the most skilled archer of all the Rito. Yet, it seems that I have been merely tapped to… assist you.”

He spat out the last two words like they had tasted deeply unpleasant. “All because you happen to have that little darkness sealing sword on your back!” Revali stopped and glared. Link was strongly reminded of the princess, down to invoking the Master Sword.

“I mean… it’s just asinine.” Revali’s voice softened, so much that it seemed that he was truly shocked. Link saw a shadow of doubt flash over the Champion’s face, but like a passing cloud it cleared almost at once. He turned sharply to Link and regarded him coolly. “Maybe we should just settle this one on one.”

Link made sure to keep his face impassive. He had just arrived at Rito Village for the first time in his life and did not plan to be kicked out on the same day. Especially by fighting a fellow Champion. Princess Zelda would have his head, Master Sword’s chosen or not.

Revali tapped his beak with a feathery finger. “But where? Oh, I know. How about there?!”

Link could not help himself. He turned his head to where Revali pointed. Vah Medoh churned and chugged high above them.

Revali hooted with mirth. “Oh, you must pardon me! I forgot that you have no way of making it up to that Divine Beast on your own!”

With a single flap of his wings, Revali summoned the gale again, forcing Link to stumble back as he rose upward with no effort at all. Before the winds had died down, he looped back for a final word.

“Good luck sealing the darkness!” He smirked and flew off.

Link lowered his hand. Revali had already transformed into a speck in the sky.

"Ho! Sir Knight!"

Utano was trotting up the stair and - unexpectedly - waving at him. The poet nodded at the Rito passing him, oblivious to their curious stares at the large parcel in his arms. He reached Link and cleared his throat awkwardly. "I wish to speak with the princess."

"I’m here." Princess Zelda descended the steps toward them. She had traded her travelling gear for a snug winter coat of white and gold. Her fur-lined boots tapped across the platform. A fluffy cape hung over her arm. The stark, clean colours reflected the sunlight, anointing her figure with a brilliant glow.

"You look lovely," Utano declared.

Princess Zelda blinked. "Oh... thank you." She gazed up into the air where Medoh continued to glide. "It becomes very chilly at high altitudes. I intend to inspect the Divine Beast as soon as Revali returns. Did you make a successful purchase at the stable?"

Utano beamed. "Yes, I did. Behold!” He undid the string around the strange object and removed the wrappings with a flourish. It was the most absurd looking contraption Link had ever seen. Two flattish boxes were connected by cloth bellows. There were buttons on either side as well as leather straps. Link assumed it was to assist its user in holding the object, as it was the size of a knight’s shield and possibly just as heavy.

“Er,” Princess Zelda said. “What is it?”

“The good man called it a squeezebox.”

“And this is a musical instrument?"

Utano nodded vigorously. “Yes, and a special one at that. With this, one may create far more detailed compositions. The buttons each represent a note, and with enough air passing through the bellows, several of them may be played at once! Chords, harmonies, perhaps even melodies in counterpoint - the possibilities are endless.”

“Sounds complex.”

“Ah, but Princess, surely you understand the appeal of a good mental challenge. I shall use this new instrument to compose a new song for you, one to regale our descendants with so they shall never forget the great deeds of Princess Zelda and her Champions. Hyrule will sing of your triumph for centuries to come!”

"That’s very kind of you.” Princess Zelda turned away. Link saw one of her hands ball into a fist, but she quickly covered it with the other. “Well, I don’t see Revali. Let’s return after a meal.”

"Excellent decision," Utano said, heaving the squeezebox into his arms. “You'll find Tabantha to be very generous in its bounty. Have you had the nutcake, my princess?"

Nutcake sounded very good. But the princess raised a hand when Link stepped forward. “You are dismissed,” she stated. “Leave us.”

Link hesitated. Princess Zelda made a harsh, impatient sound in her throat. “I am giving you leave on your guard duties, don’t you want it?”

“I-”

“Just stay out of trouble, you’ll be fine.” The Princess stalked down the stair two steps at a time. Her hair curled in the breeze, like it was waving him away. Utano hurried after her.

The landing was still and quiet once more. Link groaned and sat down, chin in his hands. More waiting. The waters sparkled beneath his dangling feet, and he could see all the natural dips and rises of the valley beyond with its carpet of dark pine. Link furrowed his brows as he looked hard at the gorgeous landscape. The faces of the princess, Revali, and Utano, each glaring, taunting, and ignoring him, kept on appearing. It ruined the scenery considerably.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, breeze in his hair and sun on his skin, but soon a strange growl snapped him out of his thoughts. Fooooooood. Link got up and drifted down to the busier areas of the village. The scents of hearty dishes wafted out of cooking pots. One kindly Rito matron recognised the blue of his Champion’s tunic and gave him a generous helping of salmon meuniere, on the house. Her young fledgling shyly offered up a sizable slice of the famed nutcake. Finally. If this was the single perk of his appointed status, Link thought as he licked frosting off his fingers, he would take it.

He looked through the open-air windows of the cookery. Though the village proper was mainly attached to the central spire, there was a small outcropping connected by another wooden suspension bridge. On it was another flight landing and one of those strange domed shrines that Princess Zelda loved so much. Sure enough, there she was, walking around it with her Sheikah Slate. Utano sat on the landing’s fence. He had worked his hands into the straps of the squeezebox, fingers barely covering the buttons. The poet inhaled deeply and with great effort, pushed the bellows together.

The instrument made a dissonant wheezing noise. Utano did not seem downhearted, however. He eagerly looked up at Princess Zelda, but she was facing the door of the shrine, running her fingers over the carvings. For the first time, Link saw Utano’s face darken with frustration. It seemed that being a Sheikah did not necessarily mean one cared for the ancient technology.

When Link silently joined them on the landing, the princess simply ignored him.

“How strange that the Rito Champion has yet to return,” Utano remarked.

“It’s Revali,” Princess Zelda replied. “He likes to make people wait.”

“Shall I stay with you until he arrives?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

Utano bowed and promised the princess that he would have the first lines of a song before the end of the day. Princess Zelda nodded absentmindedly as the poet left them, her green eyes still searching the sky. Link noticed that her cape was already fastened round her shoulders.

She glanced at him irritably. “I said, I’m fine.”

He took a chance. “The King-”

Princess Zelda huffed and rolled her eyes. “The King is not here. How many times do I have to repeat this? I’ve travelled throughout this land far more often than you. I can handle things myself!”

Luckily, Revali breezed in moments later, setting the leaves on the nearby trees trembling and the princess’s hair dancing with the accompanying winds. He strode over to the princess. “Ready, your highness?”

She ran forward, fingers curled into excited fists. “Yes!”

“Do we need him?” Revali asked, jerking his wing at Link.

“No.”

“Then let’s go.” Revali knelt so the princess could climb onto his back. Link was forced to cover his eyes again as winds whipped round on the landing, sending the Rito Champion up into the sky. The Hylian princess yelped in surprise and delight as she flew up to Vah Medoh with him.

Link, biting his lip, sat down to wait yet again. Revali was rude, but he was still a Champion. He had vowed to protect the kingdom and its rulers. Still, Link kept an eye on the enormous golem bird in the clouds, making sure he knew exactly where it was while it circled the village.

It was already nightfall when they returned. Link saw Revali dive off the edge of Vah Medoh and jumped to his feet. Revali made no eye contact as he alighted neatly in the centre of the wooden platform, bending his knees slightly to allow Princess Zelda to slide off.

“That was… it was amazing!” Her hair was messy and windswept, her teeth still chattering with cold, but the princess’s eyes were as big as the moon as she continued to rave about the Divine Beast. “And the way to control it - absolutely ingenious. Oh, if only we hadn’t stopped the Sheikah from developing their technology all those centuries ago, imagine where we’d be now! Revali, you were brilliant up there.”

Revali preened. “I do deliver, don’t I?”

They all returned to the Elder’s Hall for a modest feast in their honour. Link kept his eyes focused on his plate and tried his best to be inconspicuous as possible. Unfortunately, the Rito elder had insisted that he rest the Master Sword within the sashes that dangled in the centre of the hall. There it hung, suspended over their heads and catching the lantern light with every gentle sway of the wind. The elder and other Rito murmured appreciably each time except for Revali, who openly scoffed and crossed his wings. Link felt the cold prickle his neck when he saw Princess Zelda’s eyes cloud over, the edges of her mouth tugging down.

He was relieved when they were given separate sleeping quarters. Nothing moved in the night, save for shadows and the ever-present wind. Link lay in his hammock and watched the stars glow softly down at him.

A shuffling sound made him raise his head. Princess Zelda was hurrying down the stair, her hair like a yellow beacon in the dark. Link quietly tailed her to the shrine on the little outcropping. He should have known. The princess stole across the bridge, setting it swinging. Link carefully followed, making each step deliberate as not to alert her to his presence.

The princess stood before the shrine, Sheikah Slate in both hands. It was very similar to how she posed during her training to awaken the powers from the Goddess. But this time, instead of the usual tired refrain, the princess had new words, ones of her own creation.

“Please give me this one thing. I’d like to get something right. Let me prove that I can help this way. To father. To the people of Hyrule. I’ve tried one way for so long, but nothing ever happens. This means there has to be another option, right?” Princess Zelda tilted her head back and searched the empty and silent night. “That must be what you want. So, help me.”

Silence. Even the wind had ceased. Princess Zelda sighed, her arms dropping to her sides. Link stepped off the bridge, and immediately, a wooden plank creaked. The princess whirled around. Her ears went red at the sight of him.

“Are you spying on me?!”

“No!”

“Then why are you here?”

The air was cold, but her glare burned. “I… heard you leave, so I… followed-”

“That is the very definition of spying.”

He gave up. “I’m sorry.”

Princess Zelda closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose. After a few seconds, she blinked them open. He started when she marched over to him. The princess shoved her Sheikah Slate into his hands. “Alright, chosen one. Do it. Get into that shrine.”

It sounded much more like a threat than a command, but Link walked over to the Guidance Stone. It was flat and featureless save for the simple Sheikah eye carved onto its surface. The one Purah had in the Royal Tech Lab was different, fully activated with lines of light surrounding a shallow compartment for the Slate that always fit perfectly. What was he going to do here? Feeling rather foolish, Link touched the Slate to the eye.

No reaction. He turned around to the princess. She stood a few paces away, scowling and arms folded tightly against her ribcage. He might have thought she would be pleased to see him fail, but her face crumpled instead. Link said nothing when he handed the Slate back to her. Princess Zelda clipped it onto her belt, her expression stormy. “Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter. Go back.”

He hesitated. “Are you-”

“Yes, yes, I’m going too.” Her bottom lip had pushed out into a pout. “Clearly, visitors are forbidden. There’s no use.”

Moonbeams lit up the wooden stair as they headed up together. Shadows slid on and off the princess’s face with every turn of the path. Link paused when they reached her given residence. Heavy tapestries covered each window bay for privacy. There was even one over the doorway, which Princess Zelda flung open. She seemed so upset, more than usual, and Link heard himself speak before he could stop himself.

“Princess?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

Her hand, already gripping the edge of the cloth, relaxed for a moment. Then, Princess Zelda turned her head away from him. “Just go to sleep, Link.”

He was eager to obey, tumbling into his bed headfirst and losing consciousness before the ropes finished a full swing.

Rito hammocks were significantly better than the scratchy beds of the stable. So much better that when Link finally came to the following morning, the sun was already high in the sky and beaming its warmth down on him. He slowly tried to sit up in the hammock, sleep still tugging on his eyelids, and nearly fell out of it. Link managed to land on the wooden floor with minimal accident. A couple of fledglings were peering at him through the open entrance, and they fluttered off, full of giggles when he smiled at them.

Link walked down the spiraling wooden stair. The morning was in full session, and the village was alive. Rito rushed up and down next to him, some of them taking off mid-step to sail off into the blue. Link did his best to weave around them.

He was nearly at the bottom of the spire when he finally spotted somebody familiar. Utano looked very small between two larger Rito on the lowest landing. He had a long roll of parchment on which he wrote with a plumed quill. Utano finished a flourish just as Link approached.

“The kingdom of Hyrule is a vast and historical land, oft grasped in the palm of an evil hand!” Utano regarded the line and blew on the glistening ink. “I’m not sure, Tuuli. First of all, 'historical' sounds rather dry, don’t you think? It reeks of academia, and we strive for art. Likewise with ‘evil’ - so banal, yet hyperbolic, all at once! Not to mention how it ruins the meter. I need a word with three syllables.”

He looked shocked to see Link. “Sir Knight! What… what are you doing here?”

His companions peered around. One of them was holding the squeezebox, his wide feathered fingers much better suited for the bulky instrument. “The hero with the sword that seals the darkness. Isn’t he supposed to be with Hyrule’s princess?”

The bustling noises all around Link seemed to dim as the Rito continued. “But she left the village earlier this morning.”

“Yes,” the other affirmed. “I saw her ride off from Rito Stable not two hours ago. Yellow hair, white steed.”

Link leaped over the railing before Utano could answer. Rito Village’s busy inhabitants cried out and grumbled at him as he raced over the bridges, dodging their flapping wings and piles of mail to get to the stable. It took a minute and forever to saddle his horse, who snorted and growled at Link’s heels digging into its flanks. Link held onto the reins and sped across the soft soil, leaving the towering village of air behind.

Chapter Text

Zelda raced down the path. The pale, warped rocks of the cliffs around her dipped and disappeared with each gallop. They were the remnants of the ancient volcano’s final eruption, cooling and collecting to form jagged peaks that were then eroded into their lopsided shapes by a Great Sea. Both were now gone from eons past, but all the signs were here. Zelda smiled up at them. What a testament to the ravages and resources of time: though one might fade away from the world, certain actions could leave significant effects for millennia to come.

The cold wind rolled off her face to draw airy fingers through her hair and steal ragged gasps from her lungs. Jolts shook up her spine every time her horse’s hooves pounded the earth. She was alive, alone, and free. All that existed were herself, her horse, and Hyrule in all its wild beauty. No audience, no expectations, and no dogged hero with his scrutinising silence to guilt her into agony.

Her horse cantered upward. Zelda’s heart sailed as they cleared a fallen column in the grass, the old marble speckled with wear and weather. The layout suggested that a temple had stood here once, high in the hilly mist, but all that remained were its crumbling supports. Zelda made a mental note to do some library diving sometime in the future to unearth its history. But right now, there were items of more importance.

She pulled back on the reins so they wouldn’t plow right into the treasure waiting for her. It was another Sheikah Shrine, not hidden in any capacity but also far from the prying and judgmental eyes of others. The perfect location to take her time and do some real examination. Zelda dismounted, her skin prickling with anticipation.

She knelt to inspect the Guidance Stone. The markings along its base didn't look like text, just designs. Still, she ran her fingers around the ridges, brushing off accumulated dirt. Once again, she marvelled at how these structures had survived for over ten thousand years. She vaguely wondered if any of her actions could last even a hundredth of that time.

She stood. The stone was shielded from her, a simple slab with the Sheikah eye carved into the centre. Nothing, just as she thought. She looked up at the shrine. It resembled a mountain in the morning sun, the moss-covered bumps blending into the grassy hills of Hyrule Field in the distance. So, it appeared that it was designed to be exclusively accessed by the sword's chosen one. Zelda remembered Link's attempt at the Rito Village shrine the night before. Well, maybe not.

Zelda sighed deeply. This time, her conscience settled down at the front of her mind, refusing to be shoved aside. Link. Her appointed knight, her partner in destiny, her greatest ally against the Calamity. He did everything she commanded of him without complaint. It was… unbearable. Clueless, mindless, obedient Link. Zelda felt her face scrunch up just thinking about him. What did everyone else see in him? Perhaps it was the stoic countenance, but silent hardly meant introspective. In fact, it could very well be the other way around. She had no idea what went through his mind at all. He didn’t need to think, anyway - it only took a stroll through any crowd with that sword on his back, and they all swooned as one. It rankled her.

Zelda placed a hand on the shrine again. It didn’t matter if they were designed just for the hero. Designs could be worked around. At least, she hoped so. For all their sakes.

Revali’s description of Medoh’s independent awakening had been simultaneously exhilarating and horrifying. The Divine Beast had elected to seek out its pilot rather than having them come to it. Revali was arrogant enough to assume that Medoh belonged to him, but Zelda suspected there was a deeper meaning. The Divine Beasts’ only purpose was to stop the Calamity. They had done it before and would do so again. By stirring on their own, surely this only heralded the approaching return of Hyrule’s greatest enemy…

Which is why they needed as much help as they could get. Zelda closed her eyes, trying to envision what secrets lay just beneath her palm. How could she get inside? She needed to activate it, somehow. Zelda glanced up at the markings that decorated the top of the shrine. Lines and dots. Stars? Perhaps the shrine would activate under a certain constellation's appearance. Or maybe musical notes? There were stories of past heroes who gained entrance to sacred temples through song alone.

Zelda thought of Utano. Since his arrival at Hyrule Castle and subsequent appointment as court poet, he had been very enjoyable company. Zelda had never met somebody so passionate about history and legend, and he didn’t mind sharing his knowledge with her. Utano’s eager, bright smile drifted into her mind. He was always so pleased to see her and never hid the fact. It was nice.

But there was such a thing as too nice. Utano’s constant complimenting became exhausting very quickly. Zelda was never too comfortable with it. The focus of his flattery had a wide range, from her studies to her theories and even trivial details like dress. Worst of all, every time they talked, he never failed to mention her lineage as the Goddess-blood princess. Utano clearly thought she liked being reminded of it. He could not be more incorrect.

Zelda pressed her lips together. She knew she was more than just a prophecy to fulfill, and she could prove it. She concentrated on the strange dots again. She couldn’t remember if the symbols differed on all the other shrines. Better start making documentation. Taking a few steps back, Zelda lifted the Slate and touched a button. Snap, as Purah would say!

She was startled when a horse's whinny broke the silence on the hill, along with the thumping of hooves. Zelda turned right as Link burst over the path's horizon at full tilt. His horse barely halted when he swung down from the saddle, panting slightly and those infuriating blue eyes wide and wild.

Zelda walked away from the shrine before Link could say anything or see that she hadn’t made any headway at all. "I thought I made it clear that I am not in need of an escort."

For once, Link did not stammer out any apologies. He stared at her fiercely before speaking. “My job is to protect you.”

“I see. A pity that you lack the imagination to see beyond your orders.” Zelda placed her hands on her hips. “It seems I’m the only one here with a mind of my own. Let me posit to you a question. A lord sends his men to a battlefield with the vague instruction to win. He is not present, he knows not of the changing variables of the fight. Who should the soldiers follow? Said absent lord or the closest commander?”

Link’s gaze flickered downward, indicating that he was actually giving the scenario some thought. Zelda groaned. The metaphor could not be clearer. She gestured to herself. “They listen to the person actually there! So I, the person in question, command you to leave me be.”

“But unlike the lord, your father the King has made his orders very explicit.”

This was the longest sentence Zelda had ever heard him utter. The shock of it all was softened by the anger she felt igniting beneath her skin at his insistence. “I am fine,” she retorted, “Regardless of the King’s orders.”

Link didn’t even have the decency, or more likely, the ability to hide the skeptical expression on his face. Zelda balled her hands into fists, but willed herself to keep them lowered as she stalked past him. “If you’d like to argue this any further, I shall not entertain it. Instead, you may return to the castle and tell that to my father, please.”

Link’s reply was low and sullen as he traced her footsteps. “No, Princess.”

Zelda whirled around. “And stop following me!”

He stopped, but watched her with a frown as she clambered onto her horse. “Where are you going?”

“I need space to examine my findings from Vah Medoh. You are not to come along. As I said, return to the castle.”

“I cannot consent.”

“You are in no position to debate with me, sir.” Zelda snapped the reins and kicked her horse into action.

Link shouted when the stallion reared in protest before diving down the hill at top speed. A wave of panic swept through Zelda’s body as she felt herself slip back on the saddle, but she managed to stay seated as they rode away.

She knew that Link was most likely right behind her. Zelda pushed her horse onward - across the bridge, past the stable, and sloshing through the shallows of Hyrule Ridge’s very wet lands. Her mind raced to think of a way to shake Link off. Finally, she saw an upcoming fork in the road. A simple makeshift traveller’s shelter had been erected nearby. It was barely large enough to hide behind. Zelda shushed the stallion, whose white flanks glistened with sweat as it heaved hard, long breaths after the intense ride.

They didn’t have to wait long. Zelda saw Link’s bright blue tunic before she made out any of his features when he came tearing up the road. She huddled next to the shelter while he circled his horse round the fork. Now, he was near enough that Zelda could see his eyebrows knotted together while he studied the diverging paths. Finally, Link steered his horse towards the road leading south, and Zelda suppressed a cry of triumph when he galloped away.

He probably assumed that she was headed to the Royal Ancient Tech Lab. Ha! Instead, Zelda abandoned the path completely and made her way across West Hyrule Plains. All the time she’d spent on field research was more than enough preparation for a solo journey. She could feel her stallion relax as it slowed to a trot among the long green grass dotted with colourful wildflowers. Crickets and frogs scattered as they neared. A cluster of wild horses in the distance made picturesque silhouettes against the sky when they tossed their manes. Zelda congratulated herself for choosing the perfect shortcut home.

Well, almost perfect. They did run into a tiny bit of trouble on the land bridge towards Mount Gustaf. At first, Zelda had been surprised to find all the twisted thorns in their way, and then the sound of a whistle began to grow louder… she yelped and ducked her head as a fire arrow whizzed past her ear. Enemies! She winced when another sped by dangerously close. They needed a way out, and fast.

While Zelda debated her options, her horse decided to take matters into its own hooves. She gasped when it reared up once again, releasing a thunderous snort through its nostrils while clearing the thorns. The moblins up ahead raised their bows once more, but her courageous steed mowed them down with a single kick of its powerful front legs. Zelda clung to her horse’s neck, reins forgotten, as it charged over the stone walkway. She would have laughed at the dismayed shrieks of the monsters were it not for the terrifying drop on either side.

It was through such luck, bravery, and her excellent topographical know-how that Zelda finally rode through the gates of Hyrule Castle some two hours later. Attendants streamed from the gatehouse to wait upon her. Zelda ordered for her horse to be given the best of care - it was the very least she could do for the noble creature - then turned to find herself face to face with Captain Chard.

His expression was stony. “Where’s Link?”

She thought quickly. “I sent him on an errand in town. We had some action on the journey back that resulted in some damaged gear, including his shield. He’s getting it mended.”

“The royal armourer would be happy to help in that regard.”

“I’m aware that the needs of the Hyrulean infantry are more pressing. This was just a minor inconvenience, and it does the royal household good to patronise the livelihoods of civilians every once in a while.”

He looked long at her. Zelda inhaled deeply, desperate to sell the lie. The captain sighed and folded his arms. “We received word from the Rito earlier today. They reported to us that the two of you left the village separately. They also sent a parcel containing left behind belongings, including Link’s shield. So, I don’t see how he can be getting it mended. Please, Princess. Where is he?”

Zelda didn’t move. Naturally, that was the exact moment for the castle gates to burst open again. Guards ran out of the way when Link stormed up the slope. He slid out of the saddle and froze under the gaze of his father.

Chard stared them down. “Come with me, both of you.”

It was the slowest, yet shortest walk to the library Zelda had ever taken. Captain Chard stopped short of the silver doors to her father’s study and stood back to allow her entry. Link was staring at his feet when she walked past him.

King Rhoam was seated at his desk. Zelda raised her chin and tried not to tremble when she met his eyes. The King’s voice was very quiet. “What were you thinking?”

“I discovered some unanticipated news about the Divine Beasts,” she began. “Which necessitated immediate further study of the Sheikah’s ancient technology. Knowing how important this was, I didn’t hesitate. It’s not my fault that he was unable to keep up.”

“Don’t blame others for your own mistakes, Zelda. You are the Commandant of all the Champions and that includes Link. His errors fall under your jurisdiction. Was he even aware of your departure? Did you give him any notice?”

Zelda cast her eyes around the study, trying to look at something else. This time, her mother’s painted smile did not soothe. King Rhoam’s frown deepened and his voice rose. “Zelda, do not ignore me. I declared my faith in you before the entire Hylian court, expecting you to understand the gravity of our situation. It’s a painful blow to our bond of trust that you are so willing to throw your responsibilities away for a selfish indulgence.”

“A painful blow to your personal pride.” Zelda felt herself grow louder too as her frustration boiled over. “I have been working extremely hard to contribute to the Calamity efforts, unbeknownst to the court.”

“What have you done, apart from throwing the castle into disarray and putting yourself in danger?”

“I activated the Sheikah Slate!” she shouted. “I discovered how to pilot the Divine Beasts. It’s never enough for you!”

“Because that is not your task!” The King stood up, nearly knocking over the chair. “Get it through your head, Zelda! Why do you force me to tell you the same thing I have been repeating ad nauseam? The reason your sacred powers still won’t awaken is because you’re spending all your efforts on these old relics. Impa and her researchers are already working diligently each day to unlock the secrets of the ancient Sheikah. Do not belittle their travails just to make yourself feel better. They have taken this on to give you more time to focus on what really matters. This is no game. Pleasure is not our goal. You must hold your destiny, Zelda. Nobody else can take your place.”

It was over. Zelda dared not blink for the tears that welled up in her eyes. King Rhoam reached for his chair and repositioned himself at his desk. “I’ll let you think about that on your own.”

Zelda left the study. The library was empty save for Captain Chard, who waited for her. Link was nowhere in sight.

She addressed him, awash with shame. “I… I’m sorry, Captain.”

He looked at her, weariness etched into the lines on his face. “It’s in the past now, my princess. Do you need an escort?”

“No.” Zelda winced a little at the forcefulness in her answer. "I mean, I intend to stay in my chambers for the rest of the evening. An escort would be unnecessary.”

To her relief, Chard did not argue. “Then rest well, my princess.”

Back in her tower, Zelda curled up in an armchair and wrestled with her thoughts and emotions. For all her rage and reluctance, her father had made several key points. Zelda had never considered that the Sheikah were only trying to remove another distraction from her training by taking up the ancient technology research. She didn’t quite believe it, but her father’s claims echoed in her head.

And yes, in hindsight, perhaps leaving Link behind was not the wisest choice. Zelda pulled her knees up to her chest, curling up on the armchair. She really hadn’t expected him to take so much initiative in pursuing her after Rito Village. After all, he had been nothing but sickeningly compliant in everything else she had ordered him to do. Zelda felt her forehead wrinkle against her knee. What did the boy chosen by the sword that sealed the darkness actually think of her? Would she ever truly know?

Her thoughts were interrupted by strange noises once again. Zelda unfolded herself from her ball and walked over to the window.

Link was alone in the western courtyard, facing one of the guard’s training dummies. He glared at the stuffed sack on its wooden stand before striking it with a hard blow. Zelda shrank back as the sound of ripping cloth rent the air. Link didn’t stop, slashing mercilessly. The Master Sword glinted harshly in the setting sun. The poor dummy was no match for the blade of evil’s bane. In a few seconds, it had been reduced to rags and splinters.

Link ceased his attack, standing over the ruined doll, chest heaving. His hair had mostly slipped out of the tie that held it back, falling round his shoulders and giving him a wild, savage demeanour. Zelda gripped the windowsill tightly as he finally sheathed the sword and left the carnage behind.

Zelda crawled back into her chair. She was shaken to the core.

“Princess?”

Somebody knocked on the door. Zelda quelled the urge to draw herself up tighter and got up to open it. Anything to distract from this feeling.

Instead of a handmaiden, Impa stood before her. The leader of the Sheikah raised her eyebrows and the tray in her hands. “I thought you might be hungry after your journey.”

Zelda sighed and flopped back into the chair as her friend set down the tray at the adjoining table. “I suppose you’ve heard what happened from my father.”

Impa set out two cups and poured steaming tea from a clay pot. “It wounds me, Princess, that you assume my visit is based in criticism or gossip.”

“No! No, of course not.” Zelda sat up. “I’m so sorry. I would never mean that.”

Impa laughed, her forehead tattoo wrinkling as her eyes squinted in amusement. “Oh, I’m merely teasing you.” She uncovered two bowls of rice as Zelda nearly scalded her tongue on the tea. “But I will confess that yes, I wanted to check if you were alright. Today has been quite the ordeal.”

The delicious smells wafting out of the bowl and the comforting warmth of the tea quickly loosened Zelda’s tongue. She described the entire day, from leaving Rito Village to her argument with Link before the shrine, then how she escaped him and the subsequent castigation from her father. She did not include what she witnessed in the western courtyard.

Impa listened without interruption, slowly but steadily working her way through the meal. At the end of it, her chopsticks paused. “Why do you dislike Link so much?” she asked mildly.

Zelda made a face. “Why does everyone else like him?”

“Well, it sounds to me that he’s hardworking and helpful, and holds honesty in high regard.” Impa tapped the side of her bowl. “People admire the honourable. The fact that the sword has chosen him as its hero supports this.”

Zelda sulked. “Exactly. He doesn’t seem like a real person. The boy has almost no personality to speak of.”

“Forgive me, Princess, but have you ever had any kind of meaningful conversation with Link?”

“What would we talk about?” Zelda stabbed the slices of meat in her bowl. “Our favourite weapons? Preferred daily physical training routines? The best way to grill a steak? Because he and I share so much in common.”

“Princess.” Impa’s tone lost its gentleness for a moment. “As the future ruler of this kingdom, I would hope that you had more respect and compassion for your subjects, particularly one who has displayed such unflinching devotion to you.”

Zelda felt her heart plummet. She was filled with terrible guilt, remembering Link’s expression back on the old temple’s hill. He had wanted to do well by his role, and she had only confused him with her anger. Zelda squeezed her eyes shut, if only that could erase the memory from her mind.

Her father was right. Link was in trouble only because of her. And that was why there had only been one way to exert his frustrations… despite the unnerving power behind each swing of that sword, Zelda realised that deep down, she didn’t believe him to be so violent. Everyone needed an outlet, and with such an upbringing, it was fairly logical in how he displayed his...

Anyway, she supposed she deserved it. She also supposed that the answer to her previous question was now very simple: he must despise her. She couldn’t even blame him. She had shut down every request or suggestion he’d made, usually before he even finished speaking. They had been purposefully dismissive actions, not at all the proper attitude befitting a leader. This guilt churned away at her insides, and she felt even more agitated.

Impa watched her closely. “You and Link are in the same boat, but raging against the tides won’t help anybody. Instead, you must harness the winds and steer your kingdom to safety in the midst of the storm.”

“I know that.”

Impa inclined her head. “I believe you.”

“So what advice do you have? What should I do about… about Link?”

“Suck it up. Work with him.”

Zelda almost dropped her bowl. Impa finished off the last bite of her rice and hummed in appreciation. “That was some gourmet meat, indeed!”

“Impa—”

Her friend’s face remained impassive. “You heard me. Neither of you got to choose your roles in this fight, but here we are. Fate doesn’t care for your personal predilections. The sooner you accept this and swallow your pride, the more success you will have. I would swear by it.”

Zelda bent her head over her food. It had gone cold during their conversation, but she forced it down anyway. Impa patted her knee. “Don’t feel too downtrodden, my princess. I didn’t come here only to lecture you. We have received reports from Goron City and Zora’s Domain.”

Zelda perked up immediately. “What news?”

“Mostly good, but some… surprising. Evidently, the Divine Beasts were…”

“…Moving on their own!” Zelda almost knocked over the dishes as she jumped up to fetch her notes. “The same thing happened in Hebra. Vah Medoh was already flying over Rito Village when we arrived. Revali had even explored it on his own by then. He had no trouble tapping into Medoh’s power, by the way. We were done training very quickly.”

Impa stared into the distance. “This report mirrors the others. The Beasts responding to a silent summons and waiting for their pilots. At least this makes it much easier for us to access and train.”

“So Daruk and Mipha managed to control their Beasts?”

“Vah Ruta is working perfectly. Princess Mipha was able to bond with the Beast in a matter of minutes. Purah compared it to the way twin siblings communicate without speech.” Impa hesitated. “But Robbie said Daruk struggles a bit. Vah Rudania has accepted him as its pilot, acknowledging him at the main Guidance Stone, but mobility remains difficult for him.”

“Then that’s where I shall go next.”

“And I will set out for Gerudo tomorrow.” Impa rose with the tray. “We must not delay any longer.”

Zelda tried to help Impa with her burden but was rebuffed politely. At the very least, she held open the door. “Please give Urbosa my fondest wishes.”

Impa smiled and bowed. “Of course, my princess.”

Zelda paced around her bedroom, feeling that excitement of discovery once again. She felt a pang of pride at choosing the right Champions - they were falling in sync with their Divine Beasts so effortlessly. To see the four of them working in tandem would be the ultimate satisfaction, undeniable proof of her research and hard work.

But Impa’s words echoed. We must not delay any longer. She was right, of course. Their gaining speed only brought them closer to the Calamity’s inevitable return. Zelda stopped her pacing beside the window. The debris of the old training dummy was still lying in tatters on the flagstones outside. Left desolate and abandoned, they would be there until someone removed them completely.

Zelda quietly resolved to send someone to fix it first thing in the morning. She would not see something under her watch become so broken and helpless. She would protect her kingdom in any way possible.

Chapter Text

Zelda wiped the sweat from her brow, but that didn’t help. She shaded her eyes from the sun, though she knew it contributed little to the high temperatures all around them. Eldin retained its own heat. Embers swirled in the air, floating down from the volcano’s crater.

Link tapped her on the shoulder and handed her a fireproof elixir. Zelda held her breath and gulped the bitter juice down. Right away, she felt better. But not too much cooler. The potion protected them from a fiery doom, but not discomfort in the dry, dry heat around Death Mountain.

Zelda nodded and gave the empty bottle back. Link didn’t look at her as he put it away. Barely twenty words had been exchanged between them since the beginning of this trip. About fifteen of them had occurred between their departure from Hyrule Castle to arriving at Foothill Stable, and she couldn’t even remember any from this morning since they began their ascent towards Goron City. They had been walking up the path together in silence for nearly an hour.

After her heartfelt conversation with Impa, Zelda had been filled with the resolve to mend her ways and treat Link more civilly. But in the morning, the doors had opened and there he stood, uniform and sword and silence and all… the feelings of resentment came flooding back. She had walked past him without any address, and he just followed like usual.

It had been a busy day, and Zelda had forgotten all about the wreck of the training dummy until later, when she saw the western courtyard swept clean. Link gave no indication of his physical outburst, which put Zelda on edge. She didn’t know if it was only her imagination, but something about Link was… different. His jaw seemed set in a harder line. He moved stiffly when given orders. His gaze was still intense and focused, but not on her. Not anymore.

She concluded that he might be annoyed with her. So be it. If they could not be reconciled, perhaps pure mutual discontent might work.

The truth was she simply couldn’t bring herself to form an apology because she knew it wouldn’t be genuine. Zelda understood that she had a problem. The guilt of her hypocrisy and reluctance stewed inside her like the steam rising from the hot springs just yonder. She hated herself for being so selfish and immature, but every time she looked at him…

A cluster of fire chuchus suddenly popped out of the ground, their round and roiling bodies rolling towards them. Link barely flinched as the bubbly monsters burst on contact with the Master Sword. He looked so cool and collected, despite the heat. He always looked cool and collected.

Zelda forced her feelings back down her throat. She had to think about something else. The terrain was now becoming difficult. Heat waves caused the view to shimmer. Stones blackened by the burning air had split open by the roadside, revealing their molten insides. Link boosted her over a thick wall of fresh rock cooled on its descent down the mountain. Zelda climbed up inch by inch as fireproof lizards snaked past her, their skin crackling merrily. The ash left dark stains on her palms and knees.

Soon, they reached the Southern Mine. The road opened into a large canyon that had been expanded through years of mining. Zelda and Link were now in the company of Gorons digging up the ore from glittering dark deposits. Four burly workers hauled along a heavy wire coil that was attached to the biggest pickaxe Zelda had ever seen. It swung down to pierce the canyon wall with a ringing CRASH.

“Hey!” A Goron wearing a yellow hard hat and green belt laden with tools hurried over to them. “Careful there, we almost got ya! I understand it’s the only way to Goron City, but it’s a bad idea to just wander around. Especially with the mountain shakin’ and everything.”

“My apologies,” Zelda said. “We should have announced ourselves. I am Princess Zelda of Hyrule.”

The Goron’s eyes widened, and he stuttered an apologetic welcome before bowing low. He introduced himself as the foreman. Well, one of the foremen. Mining was a major industry for the Gorons, and there were many divisions in the Southern Mine alone: ore excavation, debris removal, quality inspection and grading (including for taste and nutrition), smithing, and export allocation. There were people from all over Hyrule who wanted only the choicest stone Eldin could offer for building material, weapons, jewellery, and even food.

“Yep! You’re standing in the middle of the most expensive place on the continent!” The foreman chortled. “Why, I’m sure the jewels in the crown you wear at home came from right here, Princess. Would you like to visit our gem refinery?”

“As tempting as that may be, I’m afraid I don’t have the time. We have come to see the Goron Champion and leader, Daruk.”

The foreman nodded. “I thought so. But hey!” He looked at Link. “How ‘bout you, little guy? I bet you’re pretty handy with that sword, so let’s see ya take a swing.”

Zelda opened her mouth to say sorry, no, they were on a schedule, when Link lifted the strap that held the Master Sword’s scabbard to his back. He slipped it off his neck and dropped it onto a nearby boulder, rolling back his shoulders.

The foreman was pleased. “Right on! I like a Hylian with guts.”

A small crowd of Gorons formed. Someone handed Link a sledgehammer. Zelda held back an exasperated sigh as he gripped the handle in both hands and fixed his stare on the lumpy ore deposit. He looked so spindly and small next to the brawny Gorons. There was no way he could…

Zelda’s ears exploded with deafening, ecstatic cheers while Link stood triumphant over the pile of gems at his feet. There were two opals, a piece of flint, and a —

“DIAMOND!” The foreman scooped it up and held it high. Sunlight gleamed off the dusty but unmistakable gem. “Look at that brilliance! It’s top grade, for sure! Well done, brother. We oughta keep you here as a good luck charm.”

This suited Zelda just fine. But when she declared her intent to continue on to Goron City, the foreman frowned. “Alright, Princess, whatever you say. But maybe I should go with you. The road’s not safe nowadays.”

“How do you mean?”

He gestured towards Death Mountain. Molten lava flowed down its sides, and a thick haze of smoke issued out of its crater. It was very dark and foreboding.

“The mountain’s been a lot more active than usual,” the foreman explained. “It’s been causing a few quakes and even spittin’ out some rocks. We’ve had two landslide warnings in the past week alone. You better take an escort, Princess.”

“I’ll go.” Link appeared at her side again, Master Sword back where it belonged. He was massaging his shoulder from the enthusiastic back-claps administered by his new admirers.

The foreman was concerned enough to see them to the exit of the Mine. Several workers paused in their labours to watch them go. They bowed respectfully as Zelda passed, but their faces split into huge smiles when they saw Link following her. Link, for all his usual stoicism, grinned and waved back. The foreman left them with a warning. “If the rocks start comin’, don’t try to outrun them. Just get somewhere safe and wait for it to pass.”

Zelda kept her eyes on the road, blinking away tiny glowering cinders that flew into her face. Link walked ahead this time, striding past metal markers pointing them towards their destination. She gritted her teeth, the crash of the lavafall nearby shaking in her ears. She would not allow these emotions to distract her from the real task at hand. She hoped that Death Mountain’s increased activity was not a factor in Daruk’s inability to fully connect with his Divine Beast.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them began to tremble. The air somehow burned hotter. She turned to see flaming chunks of stone plummeting down from the sky just before Link grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the relative safety of a roadside crag.

She frowned in annoyance when he held out his arm over her protectively. What did he take her for? Only a fool would try to run through a shower of magma. The crag was not large, so they were wedged in shoulder to shoulder, back against the rock. Stray hairs from Link’s ponytail tickled her nose. Zelda grimaced at their touch.

As they waited out the downpour, a low growl resonated across the rocks. Zelda gasped - a bad idea, she immediately discovered, choking on the sour taste of sulphur. On the edge of Death Mountain’s summit perched Divine Beast Vah Rudania. While Medoh had glided through the air with nary a twitch, Rudania’s movements were eerily lifelike. She could see the lazy nod of the creature’s pointed head, the punctured plates along its spine, and its tail swaying back and forth. Flames flared up round its feet as they clamped down into the side of the mountain, forcing the lava to flow round its toes.

Zelda was so enthralled with the Divine Beast that she didn’t notice the rocks had stopped falling until she felt Link move. He hopped down back into the road, looking over his shoulder at her. Zelda scrambled to catch up. She did not want to be in second when they entered Goron City.

They walked beneath the tall gateway with its sheet metal flags all chipped and rusted from the severe climate. The city centre was mainly devoted to economic pursuits, with dozens of shops and attractions clustered round the lava pool before them. Zelda knew that Goron families preferred larger lodgings deeper into the mountain. Still, there were a few exceptions to this rule, such as the Leader’s Residence: a striking basalt house with the emblematic Goron ruby painted in bright colours to contrast with the dark stone. Standing in its entrance was none other than Daruk himself.

Even while they were still hiking up the town path towards him, he cupped a meaty hand round his mouth and shouted a greeting. “PRINCESS! LINK!” His bright blue champion’s cloth stood out from the red and brown all around him. “Glad you made it alright. I was starting to wonder if I should’ve gone down to meet ya. Bit unfair forcin’ you to climb up all this way without any help.”

“Not at all,” she called back. “Your men down in the Southern Mine were very kind.”

Daruk beamed with pride. “Well, I know you don’t like wastin’ time, Princess. As soon as we get you two some proper protection, we can go straight up to Rudania.”

Zelda was not particularly fond of the flamebreaker armour, but she understood its necessity. Link didn’t seem to mind looking like a tin man. He perked up when the shopkeeper jokingly advised them to keep their joints oiled, and proceeded to walk out of the store with stiff, stilted movements. Zelda’s thanks were drowned out by the shopkeep’s howling laughter.

Daruk led the way up. As they crossed Stolock Bridge, he admitted to feeling lost at the controls of Rudania, although the Beast seemed to have no problem allowing him on board and accessing the Guidance Stone. He scratched his head. “I just did what Robbie told me. Still didn’t work, though. This ancient tech stuff is kinda out of my understandin’. I hope that’s okay.”

Zelda assured Daruk that with the Sheikah Slate, they would have him piloting Vah Rudania in his sleep. He smiled and nodded at her, but his brow remained creased.

“Hey, little guy!” Daruk addressed Link, who was clunking along quietly. “Heard about your findin’s down at the Mine. Way to go, brother! Nothing like sharing the wealth to get on the good side of a Goron. They’re all pretty impressed by your strength, but I could’ve told them that!”

Link looked pleased. “Thanks.”

Zelda often found herself slowing down to wait on both Daruk and Link as they strolled along casually and deep in conversation. It was rather one-sided in Daruk’s favour: he kept on bringing up past incidents that Zelda had not been witness to, mainly regarding fights in which he and Link had come out victorious.

“And while I was distracted, a monster almost got the jump on me, but you stopped it! Imagine me, the Great Daruk… saved by a tiny Hylian!” Daruk laughed, his entire body shaking. “I must have had a dopey look on my face when that happened. Hope ya didn’t notice.”

Link shook his head, wrinkling his nose. “Never.”

“Don’t go butterin’ me up, little guy. I’m not some hunk of rock roast sizzling on the grill!”

When they reached Eldin Bridge, Zelda’s heart hammered in her chest. There was Death Mountain itself, closer and hotter than ever, burning and spewing its ash. Even more awesome was the sight of Vah Rudania waiting for them. It turned its head slowly, observing them with brightly shining eyes. Zelda had to remind herself that Rudania was not a real animal. Nevertheless, she felt a unique hum of energy reverberating through the Beast that felt more than just machinery as Daruk guided them on and down into the interior.

“That’s where Robbie and I started,” he said, pointing at a distant Guidance Stone. “I got the little droplet just fine, but when we tried to get to the terminals, that’s where I lost the plot. Some are pretty hard to get to.”

“Ah.” Zelda looked around. They were standing in a single, spacious room divided by screened walls featuring artful curlicues in their design. Sunlight streamed down from overhead skylights. Zelda could see chutes and grates blocking passages and crossing the walls, similar to the equipment she saw down at the Southern Mine. She smiled. She would never fail to be amazed at the cleverness of Sheikah technology. Rudania was markedly different from Medoh, which had involved several levels and hanging devices befitting an air-based Rito Champion, but it was perfect for the earthy, thick-skinned Gorons.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “That’s why I’m here. Allow me to access the map to the Divine Beast, and we’ll work it out together.”

They walked over to the Guidance Stone. The Sheikah Slate fit into the slot perfectly, and the disc spun around before lighting up. Ancient text flashed overhead before a pure drop of information leaked out of the glowing Sheikah eye, falling into the Slate with a gentle splash. When she retrieved the Slate, the screen now depicted a blueprint of Vah Rudania from head to the tip of its half-gear tail. Five glowing points were marked in various places.

She showed Daruk. “These are the terminals. See?” She pointed to one that was mounted on a nearby wall. “Once you activate all of them, you’ll have the full catalogue of Rudania’s abilities available to you at the control unit upstairs.”

Daruk’s brow furrowed. “But how do I even get to the terminals?”

“You can tilt the Beast back and forth. Since Rudania accepted you, the map must have been imprinted into your memory. You also should also be able to mentally manipulate its movements. Try it!”

“Hmmm.” Daruk closed his eyes and concentrated. Zelda and Link backed away when a faint orange radiance began to emanate from his body. There was a low grinding noise, and they all stumbled as Rudania lurched sideways, climbing up Death Mountain’s slopes and angling its body accordingly. Zelda caught a glimpse of Link’s shocked expression as he struggled for balance. She’d forgotten that this was his first time in a Divine Beast.

Daruk didn’t hold back, his booming voice echoing throughout the room in glee. “Ha! That’s more like it!”

Zelda stood up. “Yes! Except we want the other direction, since the terminal’s on the other wall.”

“Got it, little Princess.”

She held on tight just before Rudania moved again. Link, on the other hand, failed to secure his footing and went sliding down the wall before landing in an undignified heap. But he rolled back up to his feet quickly, just in time to see Zelda smirking. He frowned.

Daruk took no notice of their rivalry. He strode over to a set of enormous metal doors and opened them with a mighty push. Another terminal showed itself. “Number two! Hey, this is a lot easier than I thought!”

“Excellent!” Zelda skipped after him, passing Link, who was still getting his bearings. He might have a talent for smashing up rocks, but they were in her domain now.

But the confidence was a little premature. Once the more easily accessed terminals were finished, they were left with those blocked off by various barriers. The three of them came before a set of burners that erupted tall jets of flame, effectively barring them from any access.

“Daruk, are you sure there isn’t a way to turn them off?”Zelda checked her Slate. She walked up to the big Goron leader, who was tugging on his white hair nervously. “I don’t see anything in the blueprint, but you should have a better idea of the workings than me.”

“I’m sorry, Princess.” Daruk rubbed his temples with fingers the size of candlesticks. “Been rackin’ my brain, and I got nothin’.”

Zelda stared at the terminal sitting just out of reach. She had to help her Champion.

Daruk shook his head. “It’s no use. I guess we’ll have to try again later. It’s almost dinnertime, anyway.”

She couldn’t bear the morose look on his face. “Perhaps just a bit longer. We’ll solve it, I promise!”

Daruk sighed. “I appreciate how positive you’re bein’, Princess, but I really don’t think so. Let’s just call it a day and get some good grub in our bellies. I work better on a full stomach anyway.” He turned to Link, who was resting in a crouched position on the floor. Zelda had made it clear that he should give them space while working through the puzzles. “C’mon, little guy! I’ll get us some prime rock roast. Can’t beat the choicest cuts from the peak of Death Mountain.”

Zelda couldn’t hide her feelings of disappointment on the trek back down. Divine Beast training was tricky. If one left during a session, they would have to start all over again from the beginning. Daruk chose to ignore this piece of information, however. He kept up a steady stream of conversation on harmless topics like grill technique and mining operations over dinner. A variety of roasted food was made available to Zelda and Link, though Daruk did try to get them to test their teeth on his rock roast. Zelda declined. Link accepted. Live entertainment was had by all.

Later, when Daruk bid them goodnight at the inn, she laid a hand on his arm.

“We’ll meet first thing tomorrow after breakfast,” she promised. “We can get through this!”

Daruk smiled. “Thanks, little Princess.”

He bowed and took his leave. Zelda watched him troop up the rocky path back to the basalt house. His features were lit from below by the lava pool, casting shadows upon them in more ways than one.

Zelda slept soundly. She awoke with a clear mind and brimming with determination. This time, Link had to keep up with her when she rushed to Eldin Bridge. Zelda felt ready for any challenges Rudania had in store for them, but unfortunately, the night had not rejuvenated their final member of their team.

Daruk stopped at the entrance to the interior of the Beast. “I don’t know, Princess. This is attempt number three.”

“Three is a good number,” she pointed out. “The triforce, three Golden Goddesses, and three of us here.”

I know you’re tryin’ to make me feel better, but it’s just no use. Maybe…” He lowered his head in shame. “Maybe I’m just not the right guy for the job.”

“No!” Zelda grabbed Daruk’s thumb with both of her hands. “Don’t say that. Vah Rudania accepted you as its pilot, right? That means you’re the one. And we’re here to help you.”

Daruk hesitated. Then, he turned to Link, who stood by silently. “What do you think, little guy? What should I do?”

Link looked at the entrance to the Divine Beast. The Sheikah Eye shone down at them, ever watchful. Zelda’s stomach twisted as she thought of Rudania’s creators all those thousands of years ago. Had they anticipated such a struggle with their technology? Perhaps the terminals were also a test, a trial. Zelda wrung her hands. But if Daruk couldn’t pass them, what were they to do?

Daruk blinked as Link approached him. Zelda watched as her appointed knight looked solemnly into the Goron leader’s eyes before giving him a mighty shove. Daruk let out a booming yell of surprise as he rolled down the stairs into Vah Rudania, the sound echoing back up to them. Zelda rushed over, horrified.

“Daruk!” She started when Link suddenly grasped her elbow and began dragging her away from the entrance. Zelda yanked it back angrily. “Let go of me. We have to help him!”

He obeyed and released her, but moved to block her path. “You can’t.”

“What are you talking about? I can’t what?”

Link turned and began to climb down Rudania’s front leg. He looked up at her. “You were making him nervous. It’s better if we leave him alone to figure out the controls by himself.”

“Leave him alone?” Zelda had to shout to make her voice heard over the hissing lava all around them. She followed him, fuming. “What if he can’t solve it?”

Link waited for her at the bottom. When she hopped down to join him, he started before she could speak. “Why did you choose Daruk if you don’t even believe in him?

“I do! I only—”

“Then let him do it on his own.” Link folded his arms. “Don’t humiliate Daruk by treating him like a child instead of the Champion you say he is. He understands the responsibility of dealing with his own problems. You need to show your faith in him by letting him work out the puzzles instead of taking over every time. Anyway, Gorons learn by doing. They don’t do well when someone’s constantly hovering behind them with instructions.”

Zelda opened her mouth, then closed it again. Did he just interrupt her? Furthermore, did he just issue her an order? Not such a military boy, she concluded, even as he dropped his arms, clearly remembering that she was his superior. “…Fine. But only until the end of the day. If we have to rescue him, I will not be pleased.”

Link nodded. “Yes, Princess.”

A rumble sounded above their heads. Link grabbed Zelda again and pushed her across Eldin Bridge until they were both safely on the other side. Rudania had pushed itself up again, flames igniting from its claws. The Divine Beast turned and started making its way round Death Mountain at a slow, lumbering gait. Zelda felt her heart sink. There was nothing they could do. Daruk truly was on his own.

She glanced over at Link, who was also watching Rudania with that inscrutable stare of his. “What now?” she asked.

“I’m going to go back to the Mines.” He suddenly brightened. “I want to shoot a cannon.”

Great Golden Goddesses, Zelda thought as Link began to march back towards the city. She was meant to have two Champions with her, but one was trapped in an enormous automated lizard and the other was on his merry way to set explosives off the side of an active volcano. She hurried after Link, silently praying that both would still be alive and whole when the day was through.

The foreman was delighted to receive Hyrule’s princess again, especially when she asked for a tour around both the Southern and Northern Mines. Zelda had to admit that seeing the rupee minting factory in person was actually quite fascinating, but she had trouble paying attention to the foreman’s enthusiastic explanation of the cutting process whenever Rudania made an appearance in the distance. The Divine Beast walked steadily round and around Death Mountain for hours.

By the time the day shift ended, it had disappeared completely. “Should we do something?” she asked Link, who was on his third seared steak of the evening. He shrugged, mouth full.

Link had gotten his wish at the Northern Mine, where he had helped load the cannons with bomb flowers before giving the lever a mighty whack. His shot went right into the western side of Death Mountain and, of course, exposed a new seam of rare ore deposits. There had been another round of joyous praise for the Hylian Champion before the Gorons had rushed off to collect their new treasure. Link was being repaid in food, and he made no protests whatsoever.

Zelda didn’t care that Link was the Gorons’ new favourite person. She was above participating in petty popularity contests. She reminded herself of this while scanning the peaks of Eldin for the hundredth time. If Daruk didn’t come back in one more hour, she would have to send —

“HEY!!!”

The residents of Goron City cried out as the ground shook. A few of them curled up and rolled away, and shopkeepers threw their weight behind large door stones to cover up their wares. Some, however, did the opposite and rushed towards Death Mountain, picking up cobble crushers, drills, and other things they could use to protect their homes.

A familiar growl echoed off the cliffs. Zelda leaped to her feet, and Link almost choked on his salt-grilled fish. Vah Rudania, in a blaze of electric blue and fiery red, was clambering over the rocks of Goro Cove. It tilted its head down towards the shocked Gorons, and tufts of white hair suddenly appeared over Rudania’s shoulder. “HEY!” Daruk repeated his jubilant crow, pumping a fist into the darkening sky. “I did it! Shoulda known - strength comes from workin' hard and never givin' up. Take it from me and my Divine Beast, VAH RUDANIA!”

The screams of fear turned into those of delight, and the ground trembled once more as dozens of Gorons jumped up and down in celebration. Daruk beamed down at everyone as Rudania waded through the lava easily, lowering its head to allow the Goron Champion a route to the ground.

“All thanks to my Hylian brother!” Daruk pointed over the heads of his fellow Goron right at Link. “Couldn’t have done it without his great advice.”

The Gorons cheered again. This time, Link had the decency to look embarrassed, but it could have been the fish tail hanging out of his mouth. Zelda squeezed her fingers into fists behind her back. He really hadn’t done anything, though. He hadn’t even said anything! Daruk gave him too much credit. Link only interested people because he was a Champion, and he had the sword -

Zelda stopped herself, even as Link drowned beneath an eager crowd of admirers heralding him as an official brother. None of them had mentioned the sword. Most barely even registered it. She felt the familiar wave of shame and guilt wash over her again. Zelda knew she couldn’t blame the Master Sword for Link’s popularity. He, apparently, was just that likable. So what was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she appreciate whatever it was that drew others in? And how could she learn from him?

Daruk finally noticed her standing there, alone and left out. He sidled over. “Hey, little Princess. I know you’ve got a lot goin’ on. We appreciate it, you know, leading the charge on the Calamity.”

“Thank you, Daruk.”

He stroked his chin. “Tell ya what. How about tomorrow you and Link come up and get to know Rudania properly? Now I’ve got it all under control, you can explore all ya want! I know that’s important for your research.”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you again.”

She smiled to better convince him. Daruk looked satisfied. “No problem, little Princess. Anything you need!”

When morning came, Rudania was still there, casting its shadow down from its perch over the city. Zelda accepted Daruk’s suggestion, which was to take a ride on the Beast on their trek down the canyon, at least to the stable if not all the way to Hyrule Castle. She suspected that he was eager to show off his mastery of the controls to as many people as possible, and she could not blame him in the slightest.

They were making good speed as Rudania crawled over rocky rises and inclines with ease. Daruk made sure that the interior remained relatively level so Zelda wouldn’t fall while she explored the room. Link accompanied their pilot outside. She was grateful to have this moment alone. After an entire day of being forced to watch Link ace anything and everything he touched, it was comforting to be back in familiar territory.

Zelda used her Slate’s blueprints to examine every corner and compartment, try each lever and pulley, and see how Daruk had solved the terminal puzzles. Many of them, flame fence included, were actually simpler than they looked. Zelda was annoyed at herself for not seeing the solution earlier, but she remembered Daruk’s pride in his success. It was only right, she had to admit, to let him do it on his own.

Another point for Link, then.

“YEAH!”

Daruk’s excited voice wafted down to her through the open skylight. “I think I’m getting the hang of controlling this! I tell you what. It sure is a blast piloting a toy like this around. Let those other Champions know they better eat their gravel if they wanna keep up with Daruk!”

Zelda smiled, making a mental promise to pass on the message. She couldn’t see or hear Link, but Daruk continued the conversation, oblivious to the volume of his voice. “Hey, can you believe this view? Just look at all those delectable rocks sprinkled on those mountains. Mighty tasty.” Daruk made a rumbling noise of appreciation. “I may not know a whole lot about this Calamity thing, but mark my words. I’ll protect this land of ours to the death!”

“Hey, by the way…” Daruk’s tone softened, but she could still hear every word. “Congrats on becoming the princess’s appointed knight. That’s a really big deal, protecting the King’s daughter… nooooo pressure!”

She held her breath, straining to hear Link’s reply. Perhaps there was none. Zelda swallowed her irritation. What she’d give to learn what he really thought of her.

Zelda moved so she could see Daruk bending down conspiratorially towards Link, who was only visible from the forehead up. “The princess is a strong personality,” Daruk was saying to him. “So strong, she can’t quite see the range for the peaks. Remember that, and you’ll be fine.”

Zelda was completely nonplussed. She craned her neck and frowned up at the great brown rocks that passed by as Rudania walked on. She could see the Eldin range just fine. And she could also see their peaks…? Zelda bit her lip as she thought hard. Obviously, this was a metaphor. But for what?

Suddenly, they stopped. It was so abrupt, Zelda tripped over her own feet and almost collided with a lantern. Thankfully, it was unlit. She heard Daruk shouting, and jumped out of the way as stones fell through the skylight and littered Rudania’s floor. One of them rolled over to her - it was nearly the same breadth and height as she.

“Princess!”

Zelda looked up. Both Daruk and Link peered down at her. Daruk’s brow was knotted in concern. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “What about you?”

Link gave her a thumbs up. Daruk looked around, distracted.

“That was a little strange.” He frowned. “As far as I know, Death Mountain has been quiet for decades. But if it’s shivering enough to send down a bunch of boulders that size, then…”

He saw the looks on their faces. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

He dropped them off at Foothill Stable. Travelling merchants and wagon hands scrambled for cover as Rudania poked its head over the cliff’s edges. Daruk laughed and waved to them while Link and Zelda climbed down its leg once more. “Come back soon!” He bellowed, causing horses to rear in alarm. “You can always count on me, Princess. And remember what I told ya, little guy!”

He whooped and steered Rudania around. The ground shuddered as the two of them made their way back up to Death Mountain, back with its searing heat, drifting embers, and dark plume of smoke that disappeared into the pale blue sky.

Chapter Text

A breeze ruffled Link’s hair. He took note of the direction and readjusted his footing. Extending his arms and balancing his sword, Link continued his daily exercises. The sun warmed his skin while he pivoted, slashed, feinted and spun on the worn flagstones.

The gleam of the Master Sword’s blade dulled for a moment when he stepped back into shadow. Link glanced over his shoulder. The Temple of Time rose up behind him, quiet and imposing. He didn’t know when it had been built, but considering that the Great Plateau was the seat of old Hyrule, he imagined it was a long, long time.

Link swung the sword through the air in figure eights a few more times, letting gravity help him move the weapon with just a flick of the wrist. He sheathed it and leaned against the sun-warmed top of a stone parapet. All was still. The silence was so great that even the soft chirping of birds in the apple trees seemed hushed. Link watched monks putter round the Eastern Abbey in the distance. The hems of their orange robes flapped round their ankles as they disappeared into the cloisters.

Link turned away from them. Beyond the cliffs, he could see all the way to the castle. Its silhouette was unmistakable even from this distance, the tallest spire piercing the pale sky. It was hard to believe that he had been there only that morning, standing at attention by the silver doors down in the library. Link had concentrated very hard on counting the books on the nearby shelves, trying not to overhear the gradually rising voices of King Rhoam and Princess Zelda within.

Captain Chard had stood next to him on the other side of the silver doors. He, too, stared off into space and seemed not to respond to the shouting. It was only when a dark-faced King and red-eyed princess emerged that Link and his father finally caught each other’s eyes. The captain shook his head sadly before following the King up the stairs.

The Great Plateau’s serenity made all of that feel like centuries ago, not hours. Link paced the flagstones again. This entire place felt like a land trapped in time. Perhaps that was how the temple got its name.

Pigeons roosting on ledges scattered at the sound of the temple bell ringing in the twilight. The great doors opened. Link straightened his tunic just as Princess Zelda walked through them. A wizened octogenarian accompanied her. The scarlet sash over her robes marked her as the Sage of the temple.

“We have done all we can for you, princess,” she was saying. “Hold fast to your prayers and so shall we.”

Princess Zelda grasped the old woman’s hands in gratitude. “Thank you for all your help.” She had spent the entire afternoon participating in a sacred rite with the hope that it would open up connections to her dormant powers. Judging by her drained expression, there she hadn’t felt any changes.

The princess leaned down so the Sage could administer a gentle kiss to her forehead. “May the Goddess smile upon you, my dear.”

Link and the princess made their way down past the smaller chapels. Acolytes bowed and stepped out of the way before them. Princess Zelda barely responded, keeping her hands close to her chest. She rubbed her fingers against the back of her right hand. It was a familiar movement, one Link hadn’t seen in a while.

“There is a hidden Sheikah facility around here,” she said. The princess turned her head to squint through the thick scrub of the Forest of Spirits at the hills leading up towards Mount Hylia. “Records say that it holds a unique and powerful secret to be used in Hyrule’s final hour of need. One last desperate measure.” She kicked at a stray pebble with her sandal. “So I might as well find it for personal use.”

Link didn’t know what to say. Princess Zelda settled into gloom. She had been like this on the journey to the temple: long lapses of moody silence punctured by the occasional tangential ramble. He wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to listen, or if she was simply trying to organise her thoughts. Sometimes there would be twenty, thirty, forty minutes of nothing before she started again.

She continued this new habit the following morning when they departed Gatepost Town. The day was fresh and breezy, with the waters of Lake Kolomo glittering as they walked along its banks towards the next stable.

“From here, we’ll make our way to Gerudo Town,” Princess Zelda was saying, striding forward. Link suspected she was trying to will some confidence into her step. The Sheikah Slate was in her hands, and she flicked her finger over the screen as she continued to catalogue her thoughts out loud. “I’m glad we needed no adjustments to the Gorons’ Divine Beast for Daruk to manage it as easily as possible. Those terminals, and the controls… It’s apparent that we still have much more to learn.”

Branches cleared, and the sun shone down brightly upon them as they walked on through the wood. “Those Divine Beasts were actually built by people.” A note of real excitement crept into her voice. “That means we should be able to understand how it works and how to use it to our advantage! So much we don’t know… but if we want to turn back the Calamity, they’re our best hope.”

Her step slowed. Link did too so he wouldn’t overtake her on the path. Princess Zelda stopped walking altogether. He could see that her fingers were still gripping the Sheikah Slate tightly, though she no longer had her nose to the screen. The princess breathed in deeply.

“Tell me the truth.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “How proficient are you right now, wielding that sword on your back?”

That was a loaded question. “Fair,” he said. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Good.”

“Only good?”

The princess was looking at him with challenge in her eyes. What was she trying to get at? First of all, she’d already seen him in action. Monsters were getting more audacious by the day. Second, Link preferred not to talk about himself. Plenty of others did that for him, anyway. He decided to use their answers. “Very good.”

She sniffed and turned back around. The path was opening up into the main road. Princess Zelda stopped at the junction.

“Legend says that an ancient voice resonates inside it.” It took Link a moment to realise that she was still referring to the Master Sword. Princess Zelda’s voice was filled with bitterness. “Can you hear it yet, hero?”

Link had never heard of any such thing. He shook his head. The princess seemed satisfied, even slightly pleased. She began walking westward. All was quiet again for a few minutes until Link remembered something.

“During the trial…” She paused, surprised that he had broken the silence this time. “When the King had me try to take the sword from its pedestal, I… there was no voice. But I saw things.”

Her eyes widened. “You saw things?”

Link scratched the back of his neck. His knuckles brushed against the hilt of the sword itself, still and inanimate as ever. He did his best to describe the foreign visions that had been seared onto his mind when he’d fought for his sanity deep beneath the castle. He failed to suppress a shudder at the memory of the vicious, furious screams of his opponent with the fiery tusks and eyes.

The princess stood very still. “Oh.”

They stood there in the middle of the road regarding each other until she turned and walked away once again. Link had no choice but to follow.

Link had assumed that after Eldin, the heat of the Gerudo Desert wouldn't be a problem. After all, there was no threat of inadvertent immolation down here. He hadn't counted on a new, different aspect: dust. Link had never encountered so much dust in his life. Their horses' hooves kicked up clouds of tiny, irritating particles into the air on the hot, harsh ride through the canyon pass. The plants there failed to provide any sign of moisture, their leaves yellow and dry.

As they galloped along the narrow ravine, Link up and saw wooden platforms hammered into the sandstone walls. They were ramshackle things lashed together with twine, and he thought he saw some rattle with movement. Link’s fingers itched for his sword, but he decided to let it be. Still, he couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched.

The dust became much worse after they arrived at the stable. The workers there explained to him that the weight of a horse was no good in the soft sands of the desert. So he and Princess Zelda set out once again on foot. It was only an hour’s walk, but long enough for Link to feel sweat soaking through his tunic and gritty pebbles inside his boots when they arrived at Kara Kara Bazaar.

The oasis reflected the gentle blue of the sky. Palm trees swayed softly around its border, providing fresh fruit and shade. That was where the calm ended. Colourful canvases ringed the water like a ripple round a pond, quivering with the bellowing of their vendors:

“Sir, I can see you are a man of worldly tastes! This vest is woven from only the finest wool. Feel that smoothness!”

“Looking to recruit strong and able workers for a construction project in Faron. If interested, contact Mutoh.”

“Drink voltfruit juice, it’ll quench ya! Nothing’s quenchier. It’s the quenchiest!”

Link batted away the overeager merchants who waved textiles, food, and other useless knick knacks in his face. He tried to stick close to Princess Zelda, who weaved through them almost too quickly. Link had half a mind to grab her by the belt when they finally emerged into an open area.

He only saw a low paddock. It looked empty. A Gerudo standing by bowed to the princess. “Sav’aaq! Welcome to Sanee’s Sand Seal Services. Do you need a ride?”

The ground suddenly trembled, and Link put up a hand to shield himself just in time for a large creature to shoot out of the sand, spraying it everywhere. The seal plopped back down on its blubbery belly and shook out its heavy mane. It barked throatily. More of its kin came popping into view, swimming through the sand towards Link and the princess. One of them waddled up right up to him and sniffed at the Master Sword. He wasn't surprised. They called it the sword that sealed the darkness, after all. He let out a snort.

"What's there to smirk about?" Princess Zelda demanded. He shut his mouth.

Surfing with the sand seals was a far more enjoyable way to travel. Link almost wished that Gerudo Town was further away as they sped along. The sharp wind was even able to whip all the dust behind him before they got into his eyes and mouth. His seal’s powerful tail worked the sand effortlessly. By his side, Princess Zelda looked right at home. She leaned back on the sled and her yellow hair burned golden in the fierce sunlight, waving around her shoulders like dancing flames.

When they arrived and alighted, Link felt the suffocating heat press down on him again. He quickened his pace behind Princess Zelda, eager for shelter and perhaps a refreshing drink.

He had not gone a step past the town threshold when two spears slashed down in front of him. Their quillons hooked together to form a sharp, scary barrier between him and the princess, who glanced around with a well-practised concerned expression. But not practised enough. She was a terrible actress.

“Freeze! Where do you think you’re going?” The Gerudo guard on his left glared at him. “Not into this town, that’s for sure.”

Her partner shook the spears menacingly. “No voe allowed. Off with you.”

Link looked incredulously at Princess Zelda, who shrugged. “Sorry,” she said, not at all sounding like she was.

“What am I—”

“You can wait in the bazaar,” she called out as the guards began to push him backwards.

“All the way back there?”

“Take a seal,” the princess said, and she disappeared into the depths of the bustling town.

Link fumed. He had lost her once, and he had no intention of making the same mistake twice. He stomped off - as best as he could in the shifting sand - to search for another entrance. The walls were not very tall. The sound of chatter and laughter drifted over them, taunting him for his failure. Even worse was the tantalising trickle of water. On the western side, Link could see the great rock formations. Crystal clear water flowed over the edges, splashing into streams and pools that only those within could enjoy.

He threw caution to the wind, jumping up onto the wall. Colourful tiles embedded into its stone made easy handholds. The back of his neck scorched in the relentless sun, but Link didn’t care as he hoisted himself over the top. Before he could even take in his bearings, a loud shout cut through the air.

“A voe has been detected!”

Link tried to scramble down behind some crates, but a horn had already begun to blow. Fast footsteps cornered him and long fingernails scratched his skin when they clamped around his collar and dragged him into the open. Link had no time to look for the princess before a burlap bag was stuffed over his head, and he felt himself stumbling along to catch up with the Gerudo's long strides.

They threw him out, whipping off the bag before he hit the burning sand. The same guard from the entrance pointed her spear at him. “Voe are forbidden from entering this town. This is Gerudo law! Do you understand?”

Her partner scowled. “Never come back!”

He couldn’t do that. Link got up, shook the sand out of his tunic, and resumed his walk around the walls, searching for another way. Climbing, regardless of where he tried, was no good. Sneaking through a different entrance didn't work either. 

The main entrance guard groaned when she saw him herded towards her for the fourth time. “Why you pesky little…” She gave Link a brain-scrambling shake before tossing him into the sand again. “When will you learn?”

“Wait,” he said, holding up his hands. “May I at least make a request?”

“Why should we trust foreign voe such as the likes of you?” The guard thrust her spear into the sand a frightening two inches from his ribcage. “And one who has been flagrantly breaking our most sacred law!”

“I need to speak with Chief Urbosa.” He knew the princess wouldn’t bother helping him. In fact, he suspected that this was her plan all along.

The guard began to laugh instead. “You really know nothing of our people! Lady Urbosa needs no help from a skinny little child like you.”

“She knows me. I’m Link, the Hylian Champion.”

Link unsheathed the Master Sword and quickly anchored it into the sand lest they take the action for an attack. He hated pulling this card, but it was the best one he had. The guards stared at the ancient blade, then at each other.

“We need to report this, anyway,” the guard finally said. “That’s another problem stubborn voe bring: paperwork. Wait here.”

Link leaned on the Master Sword as she went in. Her partner moved to the very middle of the entrance and held her weapon in both hands, still glaring at him. He didn’t care. He only wanted water and something to cover his head.

Too long afterward that was definitely only a few minutes, the guard returned. Her expression showed that she wasn’t happy with her orders. “Hylian, you are to wait in the fortress ruins yonder.” She pointed at a cluster of roofless columns to the east. “Lady Urbosa will meet you there at midnight.”

He was close to losing his temper. “Midnight?!”

“Midnight!” She took up her place at the gate, a signal that this debate was over. Link tugged the Master Sword out of the sand and dragged himself away.

There wasn’t much he could do except follow the princess’s order and return to the bazaar. Link had never known such stifling boredom. He managed to find himself some food and water, watched a workshop on elixir brewing, climbed to the top of the inn (the only permanent structure around), climbed back down, took a nap, and it was still only 5:30 PM.

He spent his evening with the sand seals. Sanee didn’t mind as long as he stayed out of the way of clients. The seals brushed their whiskers against his palm while he fed them fruit. Their snouts trembled as they gave his scent a good once-over. Perhaps they could help the princess. She wanted sealing magic, right? Link grinned. Then he could call her Princess… Sealda.

The seals backed away in alarm when he nearly fell off the fence choking on his laughter.

“Hey.” Link looked up to see Sanee standing over him. “It’s almost midnight,” she said. “Closing time.”

He stood. “Sarqso.”

“You’re most welcome, little voe. The seals enjoyed the company. Now, the inn might be rather full this time of year, but you can tell them I sent you. The cook’s a good friend of mine.”

“I have to go meet someone.”

Sanee’s eyes narrowed. “What, out in the desert? Bad idea. This time of night is when the Yiga Clan come crawling out of whatever holes they’ve hidden in. They like to prey on visiting travellers.”

“I’ll be fine,” Link said. He pointed at the Master Sword.

She shrugged. “If you say so, little voe. Sav’orq.”

Link set off in the darkness towards the ruins, pulling his hood around his arms against the cold desert wind. He had heard murmurs about this dreaded Yiga Clan throughout the day in the market. They could disappear, then reappear in a distant location within seconds. They could change their heights and hair colour. They always stole bananas, and they weren’t above fulfilling their threats, even towards innocent children. Link wasn’t scared, but he still found himself looking around carefully as he reached his destination.

It was an enormous place, but enough walls had fallen that he could walk through them easily. He was nearly to the end before he was addressed. “Sav'orr, Link.”

He turned around. Leaning against a cracked archway was Chief Urbosa. She didn’t seem bothered by the cold, still dressed in her shining breastplate and Champion’s skirt flapping in the wind. Though her pose was casual and relaxed, a shining scimitar hung from her belt and a bejewelled shield was strapped to her back.

“The princess,” he started. “Where is—”

“Zelda is fine,” Urbosa said. “She has been to our town before and knows it well. The moment she arrived she came to me, and I didn’t let her out of my sight until I left to meet you. My best warriors surround her sleeping quarters. Is that adequate?”

Link had to admit that Princess Zelda was possibly even safer than she would be with him. Urbosa turned her head to gaze at the broken pillars all around them. Her armour glinted in the moonlight.

“Do you know where we are? What this place used to be?”

He shook his head.

“Many, many years ago, the Gerudo were a hungry and scattered nation. The roving winds of the desert filled their souls with the desire to pick up anything they pleased. They had no home, save for a great fortress they built to house these stolen treasures. This fortress also protected themselves from interfering voe, especially after a demon who disguised himself as a Gerudo King led the tribe astray.

“There was only one individual who managed to infiltrate the otherwise impenetrable fortress.” Urbosa gestured at the ruins. “He was so cunning and resourceful, this race of thieves could only concede to his skill and accept him as one of their own. They granted him access to their home. He performed many other deeds that turned him into a legend and gained him a slew of titles, including the Hero of Time… but we Gerudo only care about this one.”

Link stayed quiet, but Urbosa looked at his face and laughed.

“You’re hoping that you can join his ranks. I’m afraid I can’t do that, Link. You have not earned the right of passage. We Gerudo are devoted to our traditions. Laws are made for a reason, and I will not throw them aside so easily.”

“But I need to get inside.”

“To be with Zelda?”

The frank turn of phrase made him feel embarrassed for some reason. Link hoped his hood was covering enough of his face as he felt it grow warm. “…Yes.”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Your dedication is certainly admirable. Alright. I do know of one trick,” she said slowly. “It will allow you to pass the guards and enter the town. But you must not make yourself known to the princess. You’ll not want extra attention, after all.”

“That’s fine.”

Urbosa smiled, wide. Link suddenly felt apprehensive as the Gerudo Chief produced a small linen bundle. She threw it at him, and he managed to catch it in both hands. “Here you go. That’s all there is to it! If you don’t know what to do, I really can’t help you there.” She winked at him. “I look forward to seeing you within our walls, but wait for morning. It will do neither you nor the princess any favours if you don’t get a good night’s sleep.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Sarqso.”

Urbosa laughed. “Not bad. Sav’orq, Champion Knight.”

The mid-morning sun was high above Link when he marched up to Gerudo Town’s entrance. He was nervous. Urbosa’s grand plan was… very straightforward. A little too straightforward. Link couldn’t even find words for the panic he’d felt when he undid the bundle. Surely the guards would see through such a simple disguise in an instant.

But he had no other options, so Link pulled on the sirwal, shrugged into the silken top, and fastened the gauzy veil over his head. The soft and airy fabric was very pleasant to the touch but adding all the accessories was rather time consuming. He had peered into the waters of the bazaar’s oasis and tried to make the delicate circlet sit level on his forehead.

“Lookin’ gooooood, darlin’,” slurred a passing traveller, clearly having hit the voltfruit juice. The unwelcome leer had helped Link conclude that the clothes were doing their work.

And work they did. The guards didn’t even give him a second glance when he passed them. Link’s heart pounded in his chest as he finally entered the exclusive capital of the Gerudo.

Kara Kara Bazaar was a lively market. Gerudo Town was a teeming hub of trade. Link gasped at the sea of people that flowed between stands upon stalls upon stores. He couldn’t even hear individual sales pitches, there were too many of them filling his ears. All manners of goods were spread out upon carpets, tables, and shelves. Rupees and rings glittered in the shopkeepers’ hands as they were exchanged for bundles of wheat, bark-bound books with curling pages, sacks of monster guts, shimmering scarves, and even live cuccos. He had to keep moving as carts and crates were hauled along the crowded lanes, ready to be dispatched as exports.

The air was filled with the musical babble of women. Gerudo Warriors nudged each other over roasted drumsticks. Visitors fanned themselves as they sipped on ice-cold Noble Pursuits. Mothers gossiped with one another while their children screamed and splashed in the water flowing from the aqueducts that irrigated the town and kept citizens cool.

At the very end of the vast plaza was the Palace. It overlooked the rest of the town from beneath the iconic rock formations. A long flight of stairs, flanked by waterfalls tumbling over colourful mosaic, led to an arched entryway revealing the shadowy insides of the Chieftain’s hall. Link hesitated halfway up the steps. What was he going to do once he saw the princess? Urbosa had warned him not to reveal himself, and for good reason. Princess Zelda would probably expose him in a trice…

“Skill, spirit, endurance, knowledge, flight, motion, and gentleness,” came a familiar voice. “These are the powers said to be wielded by the divine protectors of the Gerudo themselves, the seven heroines.”

Link turned around and almost fell into a canal. Princess Zelda was floating up the stairs in a Gerudo outfit of her own: long, light trousers that billowed around her legs and a cream-coloured top decorated with intricate embroidery wrapped tightly around her chest. She wore loose sleeves dyed the palest pink to match her sirwal, held to her arms by swirling gold bands. Only the veil was missing, with the princess opting for a high ponytail pulled back by a tiara studded with sapphires. That was new. A gift or purchase, perhaps.

The princess passed Link without looking at him, focused completely on the book in her hands. “Ancient Gerudo texts speak of a secret that the seven heroines themselves keep guard over. Something about blessings and signs. This corresponds to what Purah found in the Sheikah records as well! Do you think it could be a reference to the shrines, Urbosa?”

“Hard to say, my little bird.” Urbosa was right behind her. She smiled and raised her eyebrows at the veiled Hylian vai hovering beside the palace doors. “Why don’t we take Naboris out for the day? You’ll be able to cover a lot more ground aboard my Divine Beast.”

“Oh yes, let’s!”

“Be sure to put on your travelling gear. The desert is harsh come nightfall.”

Link could only glare silently up at the Gerudo Chief as Princess Zelda rushed back into the palace to change. She chuckled. “Don’t be so put out, little vai. No harm will come to her, I swear it on my life. And this way, you can be reunited without disclosing your… secret.”

Link exhaled loudly through his nose. Urbosa straightened up and smiled as Princess Zelda came skipping out again in her royal blue top and riding breeches, the Sheikah Slate bouncing on her belt. She had loosened the high ponytail, but kept the sapphire tiara.

“Heat resistance!” She tilted her head back and laughed. Link had never seen such joy on her face. She stood facing his way, and not a cloud in the sky could cast a shadow on her radiance. He stepped back as she ran down the steps, beaming all around her. Urbosa paused before following. She leaned over and patted Link on the head. “I’ll send you a signal once we’re ready. In the meantime, I invite you to explore the town.”

Wasting time in Gerudo Town was significantly easier than in Kara Kara Bazaar. Link wandered around the shops for the better part of an hour, drinking in the sights and sounds. When he’d had enough of that, he walked through the less mercantile areas of the city. The thick stone walls of the town provided many Gerudo with cosy and humble abodes. Adults lounged beneath awnings on the roofs while young girls ran around in the street, their traditional red hair done up in all sorts of creative little styles. One bumped into his legs and Link suddenly found himself embroiled in a passionate game of kick-the-ball-into-the-basket. He couldn’t resist faking a fall - it was worth hearing their excited yells when they managed to score a goal.

At dusk he stepped outside the walls to see if Urbosa and the princess had returned yet. Vah Naboris was nowhere in sight. The desert air blew icily through his thin vai clothing, so Link ducked behind a rock to change back into his tunic. Just as he was tying his hair up again, a single bolt of lightning lit up the horizon. Link snatched up the Master Sword and headed that direction.

Vah Naboris stood still and alone in the middle of the dark dunes. It was far more detailed and sophisticated looking than either Medoh or Rudania. The Beast had a flat head mounted upon an elegant neck composed of individual vertebrae. Its body seemed to house several airy balconies with curved windows and patterned fencing. A single lantern’s light shone from one of these. When Link got to it, he saw that Urbosa had spread some blankets and cushions upon the floor. Princess Zelda was curled up against them, resting a weary head against the Chieftain’s shoulder. Her eyelids didn’t so much as flutter when Link came up behind her, confirming that she was indeed fast asleep.

“Ah,” Urbosa said. “Well, you certainly got here fast. I should have expected as much from the princess’s own appointed knight.”

“She was out on a survey all day today.” Her eyes followed his, and they both gazed upon Princess Zelda. “Still as the sands now.” Urbosa looked back at him, her earrings softly clinking against the gold round her neck. “So? Spill it, boy. Have the two of you been getting along alright?”

Link just looked at her. Urbosa cracked a smile. Even with no audience, she had clearly enjoyed the charade of not seeing him since the ceremony. “It’s okay, I know. Your silence speaks volumes.”

Then silent he would remain. Link walked over to the blanket. He sat in one corner, taking care not to encroach upon Princess Zelda’s space. She sighed in her sleep, nestling closer to Urbosa.

“She told me about the visions you received from your trial.” The Gerudo Chief leaned back, resting on hand on the floor. “Do you understand their meaning?”

Link shook his head.

“They’re your past lives. The previous heroes who held that very sword and the battles they have won. You see, the sword was showing you what they faced before and how you too will conquer evil once again. So even before you passed your trial, it was declaring its faith in you. Quite encouraging, don’t you think?”

She brushed her free hand down the princess’s hair. “But she doesn’t have any of that. No past princesses promising their guidance or passing down heirlooms to assist her. That’s why she gets frustrated every time she looks up and sees you carrying that sword on your back. It makes her feel like a failure when it comes to her own destiny.”

Link didn’t understand why Urbosa was telling him this. If anything, it made him feel worse. He hadn’t chosen the sword - it chose him. She seemed to read his mind. “Don’t worry, it’s not like you carry blame in any of this. It’s unfortunate.”

Urbosa’s face grew sombre and sad. “She’s put in more than enough time. Ever since she was a young girl, she’s gone through rigorous daily routines to show her dedication.” She lifted her head and gazed out across the silent desert again. “She once passed out in the freezing waters trying to access this sealing power… I eventually had to drag her out of it. All that, and she has nothing to show for it.”

Shadows glided across Naboris, creating flowing lines over the princess’s face. One moment she was in darkness, then filled with light.

“That’s the motivation driving her research.” Urbosa laughed mirthlessly. “I’d be doing the same thing. There’s no worser feeling than uselessness. Might as well try something else, right?”

Link rested his chin in his palm. He thought of all the strategies the princess had employed to try to awaken her powers, from locking herself in hidden chambers and travelling far from home. He remembered her eyes whenever she discovered something new about the Sheikah technology.

“She really is quite special,” Urbosa said for him. She looked directly at Link, and for the first time since midnight, all traces of humour disappeared from her expression. “You be sure to protect her with your life.”

He swallowed, and she smiled again. “It’s quite the honour.”

They continued to sit there on the blankets, two Champions watching their princess sleep. Finally, Urbosa stirred. “The night brings a chill. It’s probably time we take her in.” Mischief flashed in her eyes. “Or…”

She lifted her fingers and aimed them towards the distant highlands. Link flinched when electric green lightning split the sky into shaking pieces of night. Princess Zelda bolted up with a gasp, fingers clutching at nothing.

“Urbosa! What was that? Did you feel that?” She struggled to her knees, then froze upon seeing Link. “Wait, what? How did you… what are you doing here?”

Link didn’t say a word. Behind the princess, Urbosa threw her head back and laughed. Princess Zelda continued to splutter. “Wh-what’s so funny?”

Urbosa wiped a tear from her eye. “You are, my dear, sweet, little bird. Come, now. Let us return.”

The princess frowned. Link picked up the Sheikah Slate from where it had fallen and handed it to her. Princess Zelda regarded him suspiciously before accepting.

Urbosa snapped her fingers again, and Vah Naboris lifted its legs. The dust of the desert swirled round the Divine Beast as it slowly shuffled back to the city of fountains, spices, and spirit.

Chapter Text

Zelda heard water.

She turned around. A gentle brush against her calves revealed to her that she was wearing her white ceremonial dress. Zelda was standing on a hexagonal stone plinth looking over a pool of water. Its surface rippled softly, indicating that the water flowed from a source. She was at a spring. Snow drifted softly from a dark sky that glowed with undulating lights of brilliant green, pink, and blue.

Zelda leaned forward and saw the faint outline of a statue waiting at the end of the spring. Four figures stood around it. She waded in.

To her surprise, the water was warm. Zelda pushed against a mild current towards the statue. Tall crystal formations shielded the spring from what sounded like howling winds outside. Her arms prickled with goosebumps as shadows slithered by her on the other side of the crystal walls: dark, writhing shapes fractured by the facets.

Soon, she reached the ring of people who waited for her. They were all women, some who didn’t look much older than Zelda. The first had bright eyes and a keen gaze. She wore a red gem set in the centre of her golden circlet, wavy curls framing a pointed face and burnished pauldrons covering the shoulders of her pale pink gown. The tabard on her skirt was royal blue with both the triforce and Sheikah emblem embroidered onto it. She nodded at Zelda.

The second stood tall and quiet with the snowflakes swirling around her head. She had the darkest hair of all assembled, and darkness haunted her grey eyes. But she was lit from below with a warm glow. Zelda glanced down and saw a long, curved bow of ivory and gold in the woman’s gloved hands. It seemed almost as if from another realm.

She turned to the third girl, who immediately presented her with a beaming smile. She, like Zelda, was wearing a long white dress. Her hair was yellow as the sun, with two locks of them wrapped up in ribbon. The girl extended her arms as if to welcome Zelda, the aurora’s colours glinting off of the bangles around her wrists. Zelda was about to accept until she noticed the fourth figure.

She knew those eyes. She remembered that smile. Zelda reached for her mother.

Roars ripped the silence apart as the crystals shattered into needlelike shards, falling onto and all around her. The three mysterious girls vanished, and darkness poured over the broken walls. It dove down and threatened to swallow Zelda in its fury, but she pushed against it, still stretching her arms and grappling with emptiness. Her mother’s face melted into the shadows. Zelda cried out in disappointment against the echoing screams. Everything went to black. The suffocating rage all around her pressed down, and she fought with it angrily. But the more she struggled, the harder it drove into her until she could barely breathe and wouldn’t someone, anyone help her escape —

A thunderous crack of lightning jolted Zelda awake, so sudden that she was still gasping as she sat up, heartbeat going wild. And at the end of her outstretched fingertips was Link, sitting cross-legged and wide eyed at her on the soft carpets Urbosa had laid out on the floor of Vah Naboris.

Zelda knew that she wouldn’t be telling anyone about the dream. Urbosa hadn’t noticed, having found the mundane use of her powers as an alarm clock to be quite amusing. Zelda was too relieved to be annoyed. After some bumbling, she managed to recover her composure and kept up a steady stream of conversation while Naboris stalked across the desert. Anything to hide how she shook and shuddered every time a shadow crossed the floor.

Link didn’t seem as convinced. Even after she took back the Sheikah Slate, he kept on glancing over at her with that serious, uneasy stare of his as they approached Gerudo Town. He stayed out in the sand without complaint, hood fluttering in the nightly winds. Zelda could feel his eyes upon her back when she reentered the safety of the walls.

It was a bit odd to see the main plaza so empty and quiet, but lanterns made sure that it retained its warm and comforting atmosphere. Zelda felt her heart rate slow when she heard the familiar burbling of the canals. It had finally settled into a relaxed rhythm by the time they returned to Gerudo Palace.

“He certainly takes his job very seriously,” Urbosa commented as Zelda flopped onto the bed in her given quarters.

“Too seriously,” she grumped into a squishy pillow. “But he can’t follow me here, which is such a relief.”

Urbosa laughed again. Zelda didn’t have the strength to question it. The exhaustion of the day was settling in again. She felt the mattress of the bed sink down. Urbosa’s voice was calm and soothing from above her.

“Would you take my advice, princess?”

“Of course.”

“Do reach out to Link. He is only trying his best. Having somebody so loyal and true by your side is the dream of many… and here the Goddess has laid one right at your feet. You would do well to nurture that affection than reject it.”

“Link?” Zelda rolled over and giggled. “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s nothing like that. Trust me, I haven’t given him a single logical reason to have any affection for me.”

“Who said feelings were logical?.”

“Urbosa, please. You sound ridiculous.” Zelda pulled herself up and kicked off her boots. “Link is a knight. His father is a Captain. He grew up within the guard and knows nothing else but following orders. That’s why he’s such a perfectionist about duty and rank and making sure I’m never out of his sight, just because Father told him to. His devotion is to the King, not me.”

She saw Urbosa shake her head. “Oh, my dear little bird. You’ll regret making such assumptions.”

“They are perfectly valid assumptions!” Zelda pulled impatiently at her hair. Urbosa gently pried her fingers off the braid and gently began to untangle the twisted blonde mess. “Look, I… I’ve not been kind to Link. He really has no reason to care at all whatever happens to me.”

“Whether it’s for the King or for his own reasons, Link will still protect you. I think you know this.” Urbosa finished untying Zelda’s braids and fluffed her hair out. “You are precious to us, Princess. We shall always care and look after you.”

“Well, you have to. You’re my godmother.”

“I volunteered, my little bird, the moment I first saw your face.” Urbosa cupped her hand around Zelda’s cheek and kissed her nose. “Alright. Forget about Link and go to sleep. It’s been quite a day, and tomorrow you will have another long journey back to the castle.”

“But we’ve only just started! There’s so much waiting out there. Who knows what we might find?” Zelda pouted. "Please let me stay."

“I would let you stay for a hundred days, my dear, but the reason for your visit was to check on Naboris. If I may say so myself, we passed the test with flying colours. Now it’s time to go home. Your kingdom needs you.”

“Oh, it probably doesn’t.”

Urbosa ignored this last statement. “Sweet dreams, sweet princess.”

Zelda lay down as the door closed, listening to the fountains in the corners splashing softly. She didn’t usually put stock into the prophetic nature of dreams - she hardly trusted her conscious mind, let alone her subconscious - but this one had felt frighteningly real. She wasn’t prepared to face another one. But the night’s velvet covers drew over her, and Zelda succumbed to her fatigue.

The morning came burning and bright. To her relief, she had no other dreams. After a quick bathe and breakfast of fruit, she found herself walking towards the eastern gate with Urbosa. Zelda dragged her feet past an enclosure of sand seals who barked excitedly over the melon tossed into their troughs. Just outside the entrance, beside a crumbling statue of a Gerudo Warrior, knelt Divine Beast Vah Naboris.

“Chin up, my little bird,” Urbosa said. “One last ride on Naboris before I deliver you to the stable. Just the two of us.”

That did make Zelda smile. Naboris’s head turned to gaze at them with all six of its electric blue eyes. Zelda’s mind raced through all she knew about the Gerudo Desert. Perhaps she could convince Urbosa to take her somewhere far. There were plenty of rumours concerning hidden ruins and even great skeletons of ancient leviathans. Could they find them?

A ramp protruding from beside Naboris’s leg led them into its belly. Zelda was still thinking about the mysteries of the desert when they climbed up towards the Beast’s interior, concentrating so hard that she didn’t even see the figure waiting for them before the travel stone.

“Ah,” Urbosa said. “Link.”

He got up from his seated position and bowed. “Sav’aaq.”

Zelda stared at him. “Why are you still here?”

“I can’t go into town,” he said.

“So? You could wait in the bazaar.”

Link’s eyes slid to his right and he gave her an infuriating half-shrug. Zelda turned to Urbosa, who seemed far too calm and accepting of this situation. “You said just the two of us.”

“We can make it three. He is your appointed knight. What difference does it make?”

“I don’t want three!” Zelda heard a whine creep into her voice. A small voice at the back of her mind whispered that she was acting like a petulant child. But she didn’t want to go back to the castle. She’d only had two days of refuge from… from everything: praying, powers, her father, Link, and Hyrule Kingdom itself. Agitation ate away at her insides, and Zelda needed to get rid of it. And here was an easy target with big blue eyes who she knew wouldn’t fight back.

She glared at Link. “Did you hide in Vah Naboris all night? What kind of person thinks of such a thing? Who gave you the right?”

“Zelda,” Urbosa warned.

But she stalked up to him and jabbed a finger into his shoulder, causing him to stumble back. “So someone gave you a sword and now Hyrule is all of yours to claim. That’s not how it works, hero.” She was trembling so much that it slipped into her voice, which was getting louder. “It’s a big kingdom. There are plenty of other people to sing your praises. Go follow them around! They’ll be happy to let you take over their lives!”

“Zelda.”

She ignored Urbosa as she turned away from Link, hurrying down and towards the ramp.

“ZELDA!”

She froze near the bottom. Zelda had never seen her godmother look as severe and displeased as she was now. Link - awful, annoying, aggravating Link - peered down at her too. His mouth hung slightly open, as if her words had cut him to the core.

He looked upset.

Zelda felt something burst inside of her, some sort of container of pure, white-hot fury that flooded her limbs with painful adrenaline. How dare he gape at her like a wounded puppy and… feign such helplessness! She couldn’t stand to be near him a moment longer.

“GREAT GOLDEN GODDESSES!” she shrieked. “Why can’t you ever leave me alone?”

She jumped down the rest of the way, covering her face in time to block the cloud of dust that flew into her face. Zelda rushed to the cracked pillars of the old ruin. She yanked down the rusted shield from the heroine’s arm before grabbing onto the reins of a surprised sand seal. The desert wind picked up her hair and whirled it round her head as the seal took her speeding into the wide, open wastes of the desert.

Link watched in shock as the distance between himself and the princess rapidly lengthened with every dive of the sand seal. He could see her yellow hair and bright blue clothes, but they failed to stand out as well as they ought to have. Wind whistled past his ear. He felt irritating, tiny pieces of grit against his face. Link looked up and saw a massive dark cloud rolling in across the dunes.

“Well?” Urbosa said. She glared at him. “I said to protect her with your life!”

He leaped off the Divine Beast and almost flattened himself upon the ground. Link staggered up, spitting out sand not just from his fall but from the rising gales, and rushed to another seal. It barked and twisted under his grip, but Link held on tightly as he urged it onward, desperate to beat the oncoming storm.

Zelda’s seal had taken her not even two leagues across the sand when she felt the shield begin to give beneath her feet. She had been struggling to keep her steed under control. The seal kept on pulling at the bit, wriggling around as it swam onward. Zelda didn’t understand what was making it so nervous, but she could see the integrity of the shield crumbling as flakes of rust littered their path.

She was concentrating so hard on keeping her balance that she could barely steer. The winds weren’t helping, throwing her hair back into her face and line of sight. Whenever she tried to rearrange it, the remaining hand on the reins would pull on the seal in one direction, causing it to veer sharply. Zelda had been wiping another mess of loose strands out of the way again when her seal suddenly barked and lunged down. She felt the shield shatter completely from under her, but the inertia catapulted her forward. The horizon went spinning. As she flailed, one foot got caught up in the rest of her limbs and she felt pain explode in her ankle as it twisted beneath the rest of her weight when she finally hit the ground.

Zelda cried out and got a mouthful of sand. She managed to hoist herself up to a sitting position. It hurt. A lot. Oh, it hurt! There were the pieces of the ruined shield. Her sand seal had disappeared, no doubt buried deep and swimming away. Zelda wiped the tears and mucus from her cheeks with a shaking hand. She had no idea where in the desert she was, and how she could contact anybody.

A low rumble sounded in the distance. She hoped to see Vah Naboris’s hulking silhouette, but what was there instead filled her with horror. The biggest sandstorm she had ever seen was heading right this way. Another sob left her throat as she tried to scoot back, dragging her useless and throbbing foot with her. It wailed with every movement, but she couldn’t stay here.

By the time she found the rock, the air was already filled with flying sand. Zelda crouched behind the little crag that just barely provided some shelter. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to curl up in a ball without moving her ankle too much. Regret flooded her mind. She had done many stupid things before, but this one certainly took the wildberry-and-cream cake. No wonder she couldn’t unlock her powers. What kind of deity would bestow such responsibility on her? She couldn’t even take care of herself, let alone an entire kingdom.

Zelda huddled down in her misery for Goddess knew how long. By the time the storm cleared, she was covered in grit and dust and the absolute filth of the desert. She gasped as she tried to stand up on one foot, wincing whenever her weight slipped down in the sand. She finally managed to stay upright by clutching the rock. Zelda raised her chin and saw the sun sitting high in the sky. At least it was still day, but she didn’t know for how much longer.

“Hello there!”

Zelda yelped, startled. She looked over her shoulder and saw a traveller standing just four feet away. How in Hylia’s name had they managed to sneak up on her like that? And through that storm?

The traveller waved cheerfully. “What are you doing out here all on your own? Bit of a strange place to explore.”

Zelda hesitated. There was something… off, about this person. “I got lost,” she said. “And injured. I need to get back to Gerudo Town.”

“Gerudo Town is far,” the traveller said. “What about Kara Kara Bazaar? It’s a bit closer.”

They pointed, and Zelda shuffled herself around to see that indeed, the colourful canvas tops of the oasis were barely visible on the horizon.

“I’m headed there anyway,” they continued. “To meet my colleagues. We are sellers of fruit! My name…” They paused. “My name is Vaz!”

They look very pleased with that statement. Zelda took a good look at Vaz. They seemed to be Hylian, with a round, fair face and hair so blonde it almost looked white under the desert sun. Zelda would never have guessed that this individual was a merchant on the Gerudo circuit with such waxy pallor. Freckled, tanned, sunburnt, but not such pale skin. They didn’t seem like someone who spent much time exposed to the sun, but she supposed that she shouldn’t question help, especially when she was in such need of it.

“I…” Zelda swallowed her nerves. “I can’t walk very well. Is there, um, anything…”

Vaz blinked at her for a moment. “Oh! Yes. Here.” They unhooked a spear from their pack. It had a very strange looking tip. Extra spikes had been attached along the curved edge of the blade. Zelda stared at it.

“Keep yourself and the enemy apart with a nice long stick, that’s what my master always says!” Vaz chirped.

They made no other moves to help Zelda as she hobbled along with her new crutch. It was going to be a long and painful walk. All of Zelda’s senses sang out warnings to her with every extra second in Vaz’s presence, but she couldn’t do anything about it. The spear dug deep into the sand, creating a strange dash-and-dot trail behind her.

They moved along slowly. Vaz made little conversation but hopped along eagerly, fingers twitching every time they glanced aside at Zelda. Zelda was grateful that Vaz hadn’t asked for her name. It was better not to spread word that the princess was lost and wounded on her own in the desert.

With some difficulty, they crossed another dune and found two other travellers waiting for them. Vaz blinked. “My colleagues!”

“Good fortune, miss.” One of them began to unload their pack. “Take a look at our fine bananas. Buy them up quick before—”

Vaz cleared their throat. “No, don’t bother. Our friend here is hurt.”

The merchant stopped at once. A smile slowly stretched across their face. “Oh, no. That is terrible.”

“Indeed.” Vaz nodded vigorously. “She can hardly move.”

“How unfortunate,” the third merchant stated, eyes bright.

Despite the burning sun above them, a shiver rippled down Zelda’s spine. This was wrong. She should never have come along, no matter how desperate. Better to simply die of exposure than to be caught dead to rights by… by who, though?

Vaz beamed at Zelda. Their eyes narrowed so much that they were almost reduced to squints. “Don’t worry, Princess. It’s not like anyone can stop us. And we’ve had our fun!”

They leaped back in a cloud of tags, transforming immediately into the familiar scarlet and black uniform of the dreaded Yiga clan. Zelda recognised the shining, sharp sickle and the upside-down Sheikah eye at once, but this time she didn’t have Urbosa for protection. She grasped the spear in both her hands, pulling it up from the sand and biting down on her lip to distract from the pain when weight fell onto her injured foot.

“Hee hee!” Vaz’s voice jeered as they easily dodged her attempt at a thrust. “This is too easy!”

Zelda dropped the spear and ran. There was no other choice. It was agony to run on her bad ankle, but she had to. She ignored the screaming pain shooting up her leg, racing towards the palm trees that had finally come into view. Just straight ahead—

The two other assassins suddenly skidded in front of her, creating large puffs of dust as they blocked her path to the bazaar with their wide stances and raised weapons. Vaz whooped from behind Zelda as she stumbled back, feebly looking for some way to change course and slip away.

“Too late, Princess!” Vaz gloated with unbridled glee and slashed their sickle through the air. Zelda heard herself cry out when her ankle gave once again, and she fell down painfully on her rear. There was no time to get up again with the three Yiga advancing until they were nearly on top of her. She could hear them breathing eagerly through their masks. Vaz raised their weapon high.

This was it, then. Zelda bent her head.

She felt his shadow wash over her before she heard him, the familiar angry yell along with the unmistakable clang of metal against metal. There was a moment of deafening silence, then the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground.

 Zelda’s eyes fluttered open and she beheld her knight.

Link stood between her and the remaining Yiga. The Master Sword rested in his right hand, tip down and extended diagonally across Zelda’s seated figure. But no fighter would be fooled by such a stance, and indeed the Yiga backed away nervously once Link raised the blade. Zelda heard her breath catch when she took in his blue eyes blazing in the relentless sun. They could have stopped the wind itself. Link glowered at the would-be assassins. He took a single step forward and they scattered like roaches from the light.

He stayed like that for another moment, strong and silent and a smouldering force of nature itself. Then, he relaxed, shrugging his shoulders and straightening up. Sheathing the sword, he turned around and stared down at Zelda. She withered beneath his gaze. Link simply sighed. He stuck out his hand, gesturing at her to get up. Zelda hung her head. “I… can’t.”

Link frowned, but then his eyes trailed down to her leg. The frustrated look disappeared from his face, and he knelt. Together, they managed to tug her boot off and Zelda’s fears were confirmed: her ankle was bruised and swollen. Now with the lack of pressure keeping it at bay, the pain increased to an insistent, dull throbbing. Zelda kept her head down, using her hair as a curtain to hide her ashamed face while Link carefully inspected the injury. It required some tentative poking, and she forced the whimpers back down her throat.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” he said slowly. “Maybe sprained.”

She knew that was supposed to be good news, but all it did was make her feel even more wretched. Link sat up on his knees. “Can you walk?”

“Y…yes. I think so.”

He leaned in. Zelda suddenly felt herself leave the ground and on instinct, clutched at the nearest thing – Link’s shoulder. Slowly, he helped her to stand.

They looked at each other. Zelda’s heart skipped a beat when she realised just how close they were. She could feel his fingers pressing into her side, arm wrapped around her back, and the belts strapped around his tunic up against her ribcage. Warmth rolled off him, and Zelda noticed a small bead of sweat running down his neck. She dimly remembered the sapphires in her tiara. So the heat hadn’t been one of her problems, but Link must have spent his entire search for her weathering the desert’s dangerous temperatures.

If she was able to notice all this about him, that meant he could do the same to her. Zelda considered how much sand, dirt, sweat and snot had accumulated on her skin in the past few hours alone and felt a blush spread across her face. Link stiffened and averted his eyes. At least the self-consciousness was mutual.

Slowly, very slowly, they began to walk. Now with Link supporting her and behaving like a far better crutch than the Yiga spear ever would be, it was… not painless, but Zelda was able to move much faster. Her opposite leg ached from taking the brunt of all her weight. Kara Kara Bazaar was more than just a dot in the distance now, but with their situation it was not anywhere near close enough.

Zelda did her best to keep any sound of exertion to a minimum, but when she tripped over a hidden stone in the sand, a high pitched squeak slipped out.

She felt Link's shoulders tense. "Does it hurt badly?"

"No." Zelda winced. "I mean, yes. But not, not too much. I can still walk!”

He frowned and stopped. Before Zelda could protest, Link had moved his free hand to her waist and was lowering her to the ground. She landed on the sand with a slight bump.

“How far are we from the bazaar?” she asked.

“Not far. But look, if it’s hurting that much then it might be worse than a sprain. I’ll not risk putting more strain on it.”

“Maybe you could go, and I’ll wait h—”

“No.” He glared at her, and she quieted at once.

Link reached for his bow and quiver. The arrow he chose had small orange bulb topping the shaft instead of the typical kind of arrowhead. Link aimed the bomb arrow carefully into the sky and let loose. It whistled through the air before exploding high above them, flashing like a star fragment beneath the clouds.

“They’ll find us soon,” he said.

He sat down beside her, but not before moving around to her other side. Zelda realised that he was shielding her from Vaz’s motionless body. There was no blood to be seen, but Zelda shuddered at how crumpled and still they lay in a heap only a few feet away. It was one thing to witness the slaying of monsters, but… this was a person. A person who Zelda had held a conversation with – no matter how bizarre – not even an hour ago.

But they would have killed you, a voice in her mind reminded her. Someone had to die, and it was either her or them. If it weren’t for Link’s perfect timing, it would certainly have been her. A tear finally leaked out and rolled down her cheek, falling from her chin to where it was immediately soaked up by the parched dirt.

And once one drop escaped, the floodgates could open. Zelda began to cry. She was hurt, humiliated, angry, ashamed, tired and torn up about everything at the same time. She didn’t care if Link was watching her. Maybe she would have before, but there was just no energy left for anything but tears, and lots of them.

To his credit, he only interrupted her once. Zelda felt a small nudge into her shoulder. She sniffled and glanced over to see that he was offering her a handkerchief. She took it and used her own tears to wipe the grime off her face.

The afternoon grew long. As Zelda felt the sobs gradually receding, Link had risen to his feet. He paced in a circle around her, looking around for any sign of help. He seemed to give up after a while, plopping back down beside her.

“That answers your question,” he suddenly said.

Zelda blinked red-rimmed eyes. “What? What question?”

He turned to look her. The sinking desert sun was at his back now, and it doused him in a halo of light. Zelda suddenly realised how his eyes perfectly matched the bright Champion blue of his tunic.

“I can’t leave you alone because you could die, Princess,” Link said.

If this had been any other day, this remark would have offended her. But now it was simply statement of fact. Zelda wilted. She couldn’t argue. He was the only reason she was alive.

And he knew this, because then he smiled at her.

It was one thing when his eyes were so intense and focused. But paired with a genuine smile… Zelda quickly raised the handkerchief again, begging Hylia that it would cover her embarrassment. Even if the Goddess refused to grant her sealing powers, she had to take pity on this.

She pitied herself. Link. Link, of all people!

He had resumed searching the horizon, completely oblivious to her mortification. That is, until he glanced over. Immediately, the smile disappeared. Zelda sighed.

“Link, I'm s—”

They both jumped at a sudden noise. Link scrambled to his feet and Zelda tried to see what was going on. A small dust cloud was growing larger, but it was no sandstorm. Zelda never thought she would have been so delighted to hear the cacophonous baying of sand seals, but every guttural bark was music to her ears.

Link threw his arm over her again when a spray of sand came pelting their way. Urbosa leaped off her golden Daybreaker and scooped Zelda up. Zelda threw her arms around her godmother and pressed her face into her shoulder. She almost burst into a fresh wave of tears. Urbosa kissed her dirty cheeks and hugged her tight.

“I’m bringing her back,” she said to Link, who could only nod. Zelda managed to look up in time to see his forehead crease with concern as she was taken from him yet again. He ignored the other Gerudo Warriors who had immediately gone to inspect Vaz’s body.

He still stood there, alone under the darkening desert skies, as Urbosa spirited her back to Gerudo Town.

Chapter Text

Upon her arrival back at Gerudo Palace, Zelda was taken to see the army physician. She looked at Zelda’s injury carefully before announcing that yes, it was indeed a sprained ankle. From the looks of it, the ligament originally had been only slightly torn, but the following strenuous activity had put it in worser condition than if proper care had been taken. Zelda shrank beneath the physician’s disapproving stare.

“I recommend a minimum of five days’ rest before travelling anywhere,” the physician declared.

Zelda was forced to concede as attendants helped her bathe and dress her wound. Those two simple tasks alone took a great deal of effort, coordination, and time. When Zelda was finally deemed clean, she collapsed into the bed, suppressing a yelp whenever her foot made contact. Her body was exhausted, but her mind refused rest.

The irony of it all was not lost on her. The Goddess had a wicked sense of humour - granting Zelda’s wish of staying in Gerudo in the most painful and terrifying way. And to top it off, Zelda didn’t even feel like staying anymore. First of all, there was no point in doing so if she wasn’t allowed to move around and explore. Second, Zelda wasn’t looking forward to the lectures in the morning… Urbosa was loving and kind but would make no excuses for her goddaughter’s misbehaviour.

And finally, there was the matter of Link. She had been right on the verge of delivering an apology before being interrupted, meaning that she would have to bring it up all over again. Zelda could see his unwavering gaze, feel his silent judgment as she stammered over her words… a vision to agonise her for five more days, properly filling her with anxiety and dread.

Zelda bolted up in the bed, gasping and wincing at the twinge in her now tightly bandaged foot. “URBOSA!”

The door flew open. “Yes? What is it?”

“Link!”

Urbosa stopped at the end of the bed. “…Link?”

“Where is he?”

“Well, certainly not here.”

“He can’t come into town,” Zelda muttered.

Urbosa tilted her head. “This has never upset you before.”

Zelda groaned. “Now he has to wait again for five more days. It’s all my fault.”

Urbosa leaned over and gently pushed Zelda back down into the mattress. “Don’t worry about Link. I think you’ll find that he is very capable of taking care of himself. Focus on getting plenty of rest, and we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

She tucked the blankets in under Zelda’s chin, kissed her forehead again, and left the room. Zelda lay there blearily, staring up at the jewelled mosaic on the ceiling. It glittered when lantern light bounced off the fountain waters. Her ankle was propped up on several cushions, rendering her fairly immobile. She did her best to ignore the pangs of pain and finally succumbed to sleep.

It was late morning when Urbosa roused her. The sun was high above the town by then, and Zelda heard the din of the market down in the plaza. She was permitted to have her meals in bed to avoid any unnecessary movement. Zelda leaned back on the pillows and reluctantly picked at her food. Urbosa sat beside her in a chair.

“So,” the Chieftain said. “Shall we start from the beginning?”

There was no avoiding it. Zelda recounted what had happened since her flight from Vah Naboris. Urbosa was less severe than she expected: nodding at the erratic nature of the sand seal, shaking her head over the fragility of the shield, and grimacing when she described the fall. Urbosa sighed when she got to the sandstorm.

“We saw it coming in from Naboris,” she said to Zelda. “I sent Link immediately. Did he find you then?”

Zelda shook her head. “The storm probably disoriented him as well. I couldn’t move much, but then…”

Urbosa’s face darkened when Zelda confessed her naivete in following the disguised Yiga Clan member. Her hands tightened their grip on the chair arms when Zelda got to the part where they revealed themselves, and she made an angry noise in her throat.

“These fiends shall pay for such brazenness,” Urbosa declared. “This will never happen again, not while I am Chief.”

“Link saved me.” Zelda pushed her plate of fried bananas away and covered her face with her hands. “Of course he did. But if he hadn’t…”

Urbosa wrapped both arms around her. “My dear girl, you’ve been through so much. Don’t blame yourself too harshly. Your regrets are no doubt sincere, and we have all learned a valuable lesson. I’m simply grateful to have you returned to us safe and well.”

“But…” Zelda heard her voice crack. “Link. I don’t know how I’ll even look him in the eye! You don’t know what I’ve said to him. About him. It was awful. He’ll never forgive me.”

“You underestimate the grace and patience of your subjects, my princess.”

Zelda shuddered. “Well, he shouldn’t. I’m the most useless princess the kingdom has ever seen. He must despise having to follow me around. He must…”

She felt warmth welling up in her eyes, so she quickly turned and pressed her face into Urbosa’s shoulder. She heard Urbosa’s quiet, soothing voice reverberating through flesh and muscle.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“He should! I deserve it!”

“And what then? What does that solve?”

Zelda peeked up to see Urbosa frowning down at her. “Pointing fingers, even at yourself, does nothing. You have the chance to make amends. I gather that Link has been waiting to be recognised for some time. You sound like you wish to apologise, so do it. Nothing is stopping you.”

Zelda wiped her eyes. “Except for the town walls.”

Urbosa reconsidered. “You’ve held it off for this long, so a few days won’t seem like much longer. And think of it this way: you may now prepare what you want to say to him.”

Zelda groaned again. Urbosa smiled and hugged her close, rubbing the top of her arm reassuringly. “Do not give into stress, my little bird. Use this break to rest both your body and your heart. There’s lots of time.”

Time ticked by very slowly, at least on that first day. Zelda was trapped in her bed with attendants fluttering in and out to see her, bearing snacks, books, medicines, and well wishes from other Gerudo. She was grateful for the care, but felt her patience run thin as she waited for a moment alone.

It finally came after the midday meal. Zelda reached for her notebook and opened it. She stared at the empty white space. How was she to begin an apology speech? With the recipient, perhaps. Zelda picked up a pencil and wrote in careful, neat handwriting:

Link

She put her pencil down. And stared at the word for a while. It was a start, at least.

It took her all afternoon to compose her apology. She penned phrases, swapped sentences, and read lines out loud to see how they sounded. For all her hard work, the final product came up to a short paragraph. She rolled the pencil in her fingers. Was it sufficient? Would it properly convey her goodwill? Zelda sighed and rubbed her temples. She could not think of anything else she could add. It would have to do.

That night, Zelda tossed and turned - though even that was limited, due to her injury - for a significant amount of time before she drifted off. She wasn’t used to sleeping on her back, so she couldn’t get comfortable. Her sleep was fitful and restless, with frequent heart-stopping starts awake. The real and dream worlds melting together until she couldn’t tell the difference between them.

She was groggily blinking her eyes shortly before sunrise when a sound caught her attention.

“Why didn’t you think of carrying her?” Urbosa’s voice, low and smooth, carried clearly through the open windows. “You’re certainly strong enough.”

Zelda tried to roll over and felt a stabbing pain in her ankle again. She opened her mouth to cry out, but the answering voice made her gasp instead.

“I did.” The voice was very quiet, but Zelda knew it immediately. “But I don’t think she would let me,” Link said.

“Fair enough,” Urbosa agreed. There was no hint of surprise in her tone. “She had endured plenty of humiliation by that point.”

Zelda struggled to sit up. The gossamer curtains over the balcony billowed back and forth, and though the material was thin, she couldn’t see much through them. Urbosa’s unmistakable silhouette faced left, addressing another figure perched atop the balcony wall. Zelda squinted. They might have been sporting a short ponytail, but a headdress and veil obscured most of their face.

“Prepare yourself for a very penitent princess,” Urbosa said. Zelda heard the smile in her voice. “And do try to act surprised. I imagine things will be much easier for you from now on. Pleasant, even.”

The veiled person shifted their position. Zelda could see the hilt of a sword sticking out past their shoulder. “Hard to imagine.”

“My other suggestion worked out perfectly well for you, isn’t that right?”

There was a very short chuckle. “Yes, Chief Urbosa.”

“Then take my word for it.” Urbosa leaned against the wall. “And take this, too: I am grateful, Hero, for saving her. Zelda is like a daughter to me. I knew her mother well.”

Link shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s more than that. If anything were to happen to her…”

“Nothing will.”

“Good.”

Zelda waited, but the two shadowy shapes on the balcony simply looked out at the slowly lightening sky. After a time, Urbosa was the one to break the silence. “Time for you to make yourself scarce. Here comes the dawn of the second day. Only 80 hours remain. Thank you for your patience.”

Link nodded and climbed back over the wall. Zelda sighed, closing her eyes and sinking back into the pillows. What a strange dream.

Come morning, she wasn’t sure if it had been a dream.

"Did Link return to the castle?" Zelda asked over breakfast.

Urbosa poured her some milk. "No, of course not. He's your appointed knight. He would never leave you."

"That’s not the point." Zelda waved her hand down at the plaza where the market was in full swing. "He shouldn’t be here, but if there was a way…"

Urbosa smiled. “Link is a nice boy and I’ve come to like him, but I’m afraid there are no exceptions to Gerudo law.”

“I’m not... I...!” Zelda felt her ears growing warm. “Oh, forget about it. I’m sorry I mentioned anything at all.”

Urbosa laughed. Zelda glared and stuffed her cheeks with bread.

By the end of the final day, Zelda was absolutely bored. Although she now had some crutches to help her move around, her chambers were growing smaller by the hour.

She had listened to the Warriors perform their drills and exercises in the barrack grounds until she could probably recite the commands with perfect inflection and rhythm to rival the Captains. She had asked for a basket of fruit and tried every single one, gagging at the stench of hearty durians and gingerly trying a spicy pepper before quenching herself with a slice of hydromelon. (And though she had been warned of the voltfruit’s hallucinogenic qualities, she’d felt no unusual effects after an experimental bite.) She had read all the books in the palace library, though to be fair, that hadn’t been very hard to do. Ever since she had started visiting Gerudo Town at age five, Zelda had tackled at least one bookshelf each time, so the remaining unread volumes had not been very many at all.

She had consolidated all her notes, transcribing them into fresh field journals. In the one dedicated to the Divine Beasts, Zelda took care to leave some space for Vah Ruta. In another, she wrote down all she’d learned about Gerudo history, culture, geography, zoology, botany, and more. Zelda flipped through her new, handwritten personal guide to the Gerudo Desert, feeling proud of herself.

Now there was nothing left for Zelda to do but sit on the balcony and watch the market. Haggling and hawking made decent entertainment. She made one-sided bets in her mind to see if the Rito visitor really would try a meat skewer dusted with Goron spice, or if the vendor would cave into a mother of three’s insistence that chillshrooms were worth no more than 40 rupees per basket.

While the family walked away most satisfied and ready for their dinner, a movement in her periphery caught her attention. Zelda peered down and saw a Hylian girl wandering amongst the stalls. This was an odd time to be shopping, seeing how the merchants were already taking down signs, rolling up carpets and tidying away unsold goods. Perhaps she was hoping for a closing time deal. What interested Zelda was the girl’s clothes - instead of the tunic of a Hylian traveller, she was wearing traditional Gerudo garb, from the sirwal to sleeves and even a veil that hid most of her face. Zelda could only tell that the girl had fair hair and blue eyes.

The girl glanced up and noticed Zelda watching her. She immediately squeezed between a crate and a cart to disappear into an alley. Zelda sat back. That was the reaction of someone who knew the streets quite well, not a tourist taking in a day trip. Perhaps the girl had been adopted by Gerudo and raised here. It made sense, considering the clothes. Zelda felt a pang of envy.

But be careful what you wish for, she reminded herself. Zelda felt a great wave of affection for Gerudo Town, despite her boredom. Tomorrow, she would finally be leaving. She would be reunited with Link. It was not something she looked forward to.

The next day, she headed out for Gerudo Canyon Stable. Gerudo Warriors assisted her in going from the Palace to the town walls, where they lifted her into a sleigh so she could cross the shifting sands. No less than four sand seals shuffled and snorted before it, harnessed by strong rope. Urbosa sat beside her as they flew across the desert, leaving behind the beautiful city of fountains and shade.

Zelda was helped down from the sleigh at the great desert gate. Link stood beside a gleaming lacquered wood box on wheels. As Zelda could not ride horseback in her current state, they would be taking a carriage back to the castle.

He bowed when they approached. “Princess. Chief Urbosa.”

Urbosa nodded. “Champion Knight.”

Zelda breathed in deeply. Here was her chance. She fished out her field journal. Opening it up with shaking hands, she read her speech out loud.

“Link, I want you to know that I am fully aware of my inappropriate conduct for the past several months. I have been inconsiderate, rude, obstinate and unjust. But instead of acknowledging this and owning the responsibility of being your commander, I chose to hide behind my privileged station and ignore all of these faults. I took advantage of your kind and accommodating nature to be a bully instead of a leader, which is unfitting behaviour for a princess of Hyrule. I can only apologise and ask that you forgive me and promise that I will now strive to do better.”

Zelda looked up and saw him staring at her. He didn’t seem satisfied or pleased. Just perplexed.

“Um… okay,” he said.

Nobody moved or spoke. After a moment, Link took a few steps back, then simply turned and walked behind the carriage.

Zelda looked to Urbosa, who was staring at her too with an expression of mixed exasperation and incredulity.

“What went wrong?” she whispered. “I meant every word!”

Urbosa shook her head. “Yes, I know. But… how can I say it? Your choice of vocabulary did not really create a sense of warmth or trust. And the delivery had much to be desired. Empathy is not invoked by reading off a paper.”

Zelda scrunched up the page in her fist, ripping it out and feeling agitation rise in her chest.”Why is this so hard?”

Urbosa reached down and tucked a golden braid behind Zelda’s ear. “You’ll get it eventually. Time to go.”

Zelda hugged her godmother tightly. She only let go once she had been seated inside the carriage across from Link.

“Sav’orr, Link. Thank you for your service here in Gerudo. We are gratified for all that you’ve done.” Urbosa smiled at Zelda. “And I will see you sooner rather than later, my little bird. Remember what I told you.”

The carriage trundled away, with Zelda pressing her hand against the wooden grille that covered the window. She did not like carriages. They were small, dark and stuffy, with cushions made from fabric so worn that one slipped and slid whenever a wheel bumped over a rock. This was made even worse by her injury, as Zelda now had only one foot to help her keep steady. She winced as the entire box wobbled as the carriage maneuvered itself round the bends of Gerudo Canyon.

Link sat across from her. He looked equally thrilled to be stuck in here with her. His face, always neutral, somehow radiated such intense dissatisfaction at the same time. Zelda’s mind ran through a variety of stupid things to blurt out: questions or comments or pointless small talk that would lead to a conversation she had no interest in keeping up. Zelda closed her eyes and clenched her jaw on the next jerk of pain shooting up her leg as they clattered over uneven ground once again.

She had only wanted to sound serious, but she supposed it was just too much. Zelda kept her chin down as they continued on. The canyon was narrow, with the carriage frequently passing beneath large overhangs of stone or barely scraping past tunnel walls. Link leaned back against the opposite bench, arms folded tightly. She wouldn’t be able to tolerate this all the way to the castle. Zelda took in a deep breath before raising her head. “Link.”

He turned his head to face her. Zelda quelled her nerves. “I’m very sorry. About everything. Truly.”

His expression didn’t change. “It’s fine.”

Zelda frowned. Not that she was expecting him to leap into her arms or anything, but this wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right. There was still an air of unease and doubt between them. What was she doing wrong?

Link had turned away again to stare at the grille, though the tiny openings gave little in the way of a view. Zelda thought hard. What did Urbosa say?

The answer suddenly came to her. Of course. She was still making the entire problem about herself, and not recognising the other party… she sat up straighter.

Link, noticing the sudden movement, eyed her warily. Zelda looked him full in the face before speaking. “Thank you for saving me.”

He blinked, caught off guard. “…You’re welcome.”

“I owe you my life.”

“No thanks, I don’t need it.”

Zelda stared at him, then began to laugh. Link seemed shocked at himself before his face cracked into a grin. Just then, the carriage finally turned out of the canyon into the greener, open pass over the Regencia River. Zelda felt the cool breeze from the running water waft into their stuffy box, and the grille’s pinpricks of light burst into a blaze that lit Link up as he smiled at her again.

The carriage rolled onward, wheels turning smoothly over the grass.

When they finally reached the castle, Link was nervous. He didn’t know what the King had been told concerning the princess’s delay. He didn’t know if his role in its cause had been mentioned. He didn’t know if that even mattered. Link had felt like he’d been skating on rather thin ice since the Rito Village incident, and even with the princess’s demeanour so suddenly improved, a tumble into the freezing waters might come any second from now.

Princess Zelda was immediately whisked away for another check-up. She expressed vehement refusal to sit in the prepared sedan chair, but the doctors won in the end. He spotted her sulking in its seat before her entourage carried her through the doors.

Link stiffened when he heard King Rhoam’s rumbling laugh. The King stroked his beard and shrugged at Link. “She does enjoy those seals. I should be grateful, actually, that this didn’t happen more often when she was younger.”

Urbosa had done them a very big favour. Link quickly learned that the official story was that the princess had suffered an accident whilst racing sand seals. He was feeling quite relieved that neither one of them was in trouble until the King turned to him, looking grave. “The Chief also reported disturbing news regarding the Yiga clan. Please come see me in my study for further discussion.”

So Link found himself sweating down in the library as the King, along with his father and Impa, grilled him extensively. He had no idea what Urbosa had actually reported, but they all seemed to be under the impression that the attempted assassination had been a separate encounter. He responded to their questions as honestly as he could without blowing their cover.

Impa closed her eyes, exhaling a mournful sigh through her nose. “The Yiga were once a prominent clan in the Sheikah tribe. They were enthusiastic proponents of the developing technology those thousands of years ago, specialising in instantaneous travel. When the royal family threatened to ban the Sheikah, they rejected the idea of abandoning their progress and left. It seems like they did not stop working.”

Captain Chard’s forehead was wrinkled deeply with concern. “How far can they reach with these abilities?”

“Not too far, according to my information network. But it does give them advantage in combat.”

The King stood up from his desk and paced the study. “Their attack on my daughter marks them as clear enemies of the crown and abettors to the Calamity’s return. We must remain vigilant and train our men to fend against their tactics.” He stopped and loomed over Link. “I want you to stay by Zelda’s side. The castle is safe, but this was too close a call. I am relieved that she has no choice but to remain here.”

“The princess has yet to inspect Vah Ruta,” Impa interjected. “When she heals, she’ll need to journey to Zora’s Domain.”

The King looked irritated. “Can’t someone else do it?”

Link was impressed at how the younger, diminutive Impa held her ground. “No. She has an excellent understanding of the Divine Beasts. And the Zora are a proud people; they will not accept a lesser envoy after being promised the princess herself.”

Chard agreed with Impa. “Zora Knights are highly capable. None rival their prowess in Lanayru. She will be well protected there.”

The King begrudgingly consented. “When she heals. But this also means that we need Hylia’s power more urgently than ever. I expect to have her diligently training every day in the coming weeks.” He looked pointedly at Link again.

They were back to the daily castle grind. Link reported in at the princess’s bedroom doors the following morning as usual. He knocked twice and stepped back. There was an extended pause before a voice shouted, “Come in!”

Link hesitated before pushing against the enormous doors. They swung inward at his touch.

Princess Zelda’s bedroom was a large, ornate chamber as one would expect for royalty. Sunlight streamed in from tall windows set into thick stone walls that climbed high enough to accommodate two floors, connected by a spiral staircase. The classic royal colours were present in all the furnishings: vivid blue banners hanging from the balcony, deep red upholstery, and gold threaded through each tapestry, carpet and tablecloth. The triforce was everywhere: carved into the stone, embroidered in the curtains, and painted on the armoire.

It would have been a very grand room... but the princess lived here. The four-poster bed of polished wood was a rumple of bedsheets. A breakfast tray with a half-eaten bowl of porridge and a cold cup of tea sat on the table. And Princess Zelda had eschewed her crutches for a rolling wall ladder, dragging herself along bookshelves until she reached her desk. Link couldn’t believe that she had literally pasted papers right onto the stone walls.

Princess Zelda swung down dangerously on one foot, the other kicked out awkwardly, and plopped into a chair. “Oh, good morning.”

“Good… morning.”

“I can’t find my field journals from when we went to Tabantha and Eldin,” she said, rifling through the items on her desk. A good deal of them fell to the floor.

To speed the healing process, the princess had been strongly advised to stay put in her chambers for yet another week. But Princess Zelda was an impatient and restless girl. Link didn’t understand how anyone, even the King, could expect him to have any kind of authoritative influence over her. He watched her anxiously as she suddenly stood, wobbling slightly.

“I think they’re in my study,” she announced, reaching for the railing of the spiral staircase.

Link glanced at her crutches, which were lying very unceremoniously in the corner. “Do you want those?”

“No.” She gestured for him to follow her, and all he could do was obey and pray she wouldn’t completely wipe out on the steps as she slowly hopped up, chattering away.

“With all that extra time in Gerudo Town, I was able to examine and reorganise my notes about the region,” she said. “Including a record of the different shrines we’ve already uncovered. That will come in handy when they finally choose to activate. I need to find the information I took from the other provinces too.”

Since their return from Gerudo, Princess Zelda’s attitude had shifted radically. They still hadn’t talked much on the carriage ride back - Link felt too awkward to begin anything, and the princess had been distracted by her injury - but it the atmosphere alone had been a complete change. Even now, her entire posture was different: no more tensed shoulders, clouded eyes or long sighs. Now she was open, optimistic, and talkative, even almost carefree.

Thankfully, she was still mobile when they finally reached her study. It was much smaller than her bedroom, but nonetheless had a distinct Princess Zelda flair. They were surrounded by three shelves that circled the room. The bottom shelf was more of a desk, cluttered with drippy sealing wax, boxes of chalk, dried-up inkwells and naturally, piles and piles of paper. The middle functioned as a bookshelf, almost sagging from the weight. The top overflowed with all sorts of random specimens the princess had picked out. There were glass bottles of indeterminate elixirs, brass clockwork gadgets, glittering geodes, and even some sprawling plants in pots.

Princess Zelda sat down, and so did Link. “Sorry for the mess.” She reached up and grabbed a book. “Although I’ve determined that the Sheikah Slate is the key to activating the shrines, there are other details on their designs that may provide more hints. So here’s a thought: it has been well recorded that the heroes of old did not only rely only on their courage and swordsmanship to defeat their enemies. It’s interesting to note how song usually played an integral role in their victories, most often to open passageways to important sacred locales.

“But how did they know which instrument to use? They were not always the same: the harp, the ocarina. All it says here is that the princess…” She paused to read some more, then frowned. “…the princess was the one in original possession of these items, and she passed them to the hero. Well, I am no musician, and I own no instruments.”

There was only one musician Link knew. “You could ask Utano.”

Princess Zelda grimaced. “No Link, I will not force you to learn the squeezebox.”

He had to smile, and even she giggled at the thought of lugging that ridiculous object to the shrines.

“Aha!” She pointed at two battered looking notebooks peeking out from behind a rather verdant fern. “There they are. Let’s do that today.”

Though Princess Zelda acted as if they were researching together, the reality was that Link merely watched and listened. Now that she was back in her comfort zone, the princess was bursting with ideas and opinions and hypotheses. They rushed out of her in a torrential river of words. Link could tell that she was excited to finally have someone to talk to, but he could barely keep up with the current. Her mind was constantly racing forward. She would jump between topics, stopping mid-explanation when a different detail came floating to the front of her consciousness, and then she would start all over with a new story.

It was far, far better than being ignored or resented, so he didn’t mind. He only hoped that he was maintaining a good facade of understanding her.

He thought he was doing a fairly good job of it, but Princess Zelda wasn’t so gullible. On the fourth day of her confinement, they were sitting in the study again when she suddenly went quiet. Link looked up and saw her staring at him.

“Am I making any sense to you?” she asked.

He looked back at her big green eyes and caved. “No, not really.” Her face crumpled and he immediately felt bad. “You just know so much.”

She hesitated, and he knew she was trying to decide whether that was a compliment or a criticism. “I’m only trying to be helpful. Father would rather have me pray all day, but I want to be involved on several fronts, not just the one.”

Link nodded, but Princess Zelda continued. “This is important for you, too! Records indicate that the shrines are facilities designed to train the hero who is fated to combat the Calamity. That’s you. So we must make sure that you are up to speed on every new discovery.”

Before Link could say anything, she was clearing a spot at the desk and motioning for him to move closer. “Let’s begin with the ancient Sheikah text. Being literate in it is integral to the research. What symbols do you recognise?”

Link pointed at the side of the Sheikah Slate sitting between them. “That one means start.” She blinked at him. “You told me that when you activated it,” he reminded her.

“Oh. Good! You have a good memory. That will help.”

Link hadn’t been in a schoolroom in many, many years. Even so, the princess was stricter than any teacher he could remember. She expected nothing less than his full attention and effort. That day, she drilled him into memorising the Sheikah alphabet before setting him to task in translating one of the shorter documents back into Hylian. That wasn't enough; the princess then reversed the tables and dictated a list of certain words for him to scribble down in the newly learned language. When he was finished, she circled every mistake so he could copy them out again. Princess Zelda had no time or patience for a break before she barrelled into the next activity.

She was having far too much fun with this, Link thought as he shook out his cramped fingers. But being Princess Zelda meant having fun was a rare occurrence. If tutoring her (in comparison) academically averse knight constituted as entertainment, he wouldn't complain.

When they finally left the study to make their way back across the walkway and down the spiral staircase, the sky had darkened and the first few stars were appearing through the clouds. Link was about to take his leave, but Princess Zelda grabbed his arm, using him for balance as she leaned out and reached for something from the bedroom wall bookcase. She handed it to him. It was a very fat book bound with a green leather cover. Link looked down at the symbols of Din, Farore and Nayru embossed in gold.

“The Hyrule Historia,” Princess Zelda declared. “It is the most complete and detailed account of all the known heroes of this kingdom. You will one day be added, so make sure you’re familiar with the rest of it.”

Link weighed the heavy tome in his hands. “This is not one of my duties.”

Princess Zelda smirked at him. “It is now. I expect you to be well versed in no less than the first three chapters when we meet again tomorrow. I shall test you. You’re welcome to study more, but that’s the minimum.”

He almost rolled his eyes at her, but caught himself. The princess was still smiling when she pushed him through the doors. “Goodnight!”

So that was how Link found himself sitting against the wall of the Guard Chamber with an open book in his lap. The others unwound for the night, throwing darts at chalk-drawn targets, having conversation while polishing armour, or losing small amounts of rupees through various game-based means.

Leigh nudged Arrin’s shoulder. “Observe, a scholar in our midst!”

Arrin barely registered, rubbing his chin as he examined the arrangement of small painted tokens on a worn, wooden checkerboard between them. “Hm?”

Leigh gestured behind him. Arrin turned around, and Link propped the Historia on his knees, feeling his face go red.

“That book looks mighty costly for a young knight,” Arrin said. “Very fancy.”

“Did the princess give it to you?” Leigh asked.

“Yes,” Link mumbled. His friends glanced at each other and grinned at the same time, big ones with plenty of teeth and glee.

“I’m sure it’s important and for a very good reason,” Arrin said. “She’s a smart one, the princess. I know she’s got a cunning plan for the Calamity.”

“Who needs a reason?” Leigh picked up a white checker and tapped it clear across the board, causing Arrin to scowl. Leigh chortled and scooped up his winnings. “I would read a whole library of books if that was the cost of a beautiful girl’s smile.”

“No, you wouldn’t!”

“I would!” Leigh thought for a moment. “At least I would try.”

“Not for books that size,” Arrin disagreed. He reset the checkerboard. “One final match. Winner takes all.”

“That’s what you always say, and only when I’m in the lead!”

Link returned his attention to the book. He ran his fingers over the flowing printed script, drinking in the story of the kingdom he had sworn to protect.

Before time began, before spirits and life existed, three golden goddesses descended upon the chaos that was Hyrule. They were Din, the goddess of power, Nayru, the goddess of wisdom, and Farore, the goddess of courage. With her strong flaming arms, Din cultivated the land and created the red earth. Nayru poured her wisdom onto the earth and gave the spirit of law to the world. Farore, with her rich soul, produced all life forms who would uphold the law.

The three great goddesses, their labours completed, departed for the heavens. In their place, a symbol of their strengths was left behind: the triforce. It was entrusted to the an immortal guardian, the Goddess Hylia, who watched over it in a sacred realm for centuries.

When the triforce was threatened by a demonic evil, the Goddess took great lengths to protect this Ultimate Power. She handpicked a fighter of unfailing virtue to uphold Farore's courage and gave her own flesh and blood to nurture Nayru's wisdom, all in the hopes that Din's Power would never be abused.

Since then, the sacred triangles have become the basis of our world's providence, representing the bountiful land, the holy light, and humble strength of Hyrule. And they bestow their blessings upon the two legendary figures who shall always rise up in Hyrule's greatest moments of need: the chosen hero and descended princess.  As the centuries cycle onward, their noble souls shall always appear as the Goddess mandated, bound together by fate and determination to bring peace and justice back to the world.

Chapter Text

When Link came to, he nearly jumped out of his own skin. Princess Zelda’s nose was inches away from his eyebrows, and he could see the lines on her lips as they curved down into a concentrating frown.

“That cut doesn’t look too bad, actually,” she told him. Link became aware of a dull, stinging pain. The princess reached up and brushed her fingertips across his forehead. They were strangely cool, and it took Link another few seconds to realise that she was daubing ointment on him.

 “You’re fine for now. But you know, there’s a fine line between courage and recklessness.” She leaned back on her knees, capped the bottle, and began to rummage through her pouch. Link straightened up. They were perched on the side of Death Mountain not too far from the castle. He could see the bright blue roofs of Castle Town in the distance, as well as the mysterious fog that covered Great Hyrule Forest.

They were on their way to Zora’s Domain. The princess had been elated to finally be free. They had ridden over to Woodland Stable to board their horses and prepare for the swampy banks of the Lanayru Wetlands when Princess Zelda suggested a small detour hike up the mountain, assuring him the views were worth it. The doctors had warned her about overexerting her freshly healed ankle, but Link knew he had very little say in the matter.

Princess Zelda finally found what she was looking for, a small bag of roasted acorns. She handed it to Link, who gratefully accepted and got to work replenishing his energy.

“As brave as you are, that does not make you immortal.” The princess adjusted her legs and settled onto the ground. They both turned to look at the scene behind them. Link almost dropped his food. A swathe of slain monsters littered the trail. There were at least a dozen red bokoblins, a handful of black moblins, and even... Link stared at the motionless form of a lynel. Its jaw was frozen in a sharp-toothed growl and eyes glazed over beneath crumpled horns. Princess Zelda glanced at the gigantic curved sword embedded into the rock before her, a broken chain still dangling off its hilt. “It seems that not only is the frequency of these types of attacks on the rise, but the scale of beasts we are facing is intensifying as well.”

Link finally unstuck his throat. “I’ll be more careful.”

“I should say so.” The princess fixed him with a very stern expression. “That was a very close call. Sometimes avoiding trouble is just as good as overcoming it.”

Looking out onto the carnage, Link was starting to remember. The hike up the hill had begun calmly enough. It was a sunny morning with enough breeze to blow the heat of Death Mountain away from them. Princess Zelda had already taken out her Sheikah Slate, snapping away and exclaiming over the landscapes captured on the device. Link had been distracted enough that he didn’t hear them until nearly too late. He had turned to see the bokoblins advancing on them in full sprint, panting and drooling, while the moblins brought up the rear, their long arms dragging in the dust.

“Find cover,” he warned the princess. She didn’t protest, scurrying up the rocks and sliding behind them until even he couldn’t see her bright yellow hair.

Link unsheathed the Master Sword. It seemed to hum in his hands, as if it was eager for action. The monsters squealed and howled, waving their spiked clubs at him. Link swung the Master Sword in his right hand and caught the shaft of a spear in his left. He knocked the wielder off its feet with a good shove of the butt into the chest before thrusting backwards to impale another. Armed with two weapons, he was able to stand his ground, spinning and slashing and stabbing until a small barrier of carcasses grew.

But just as the enemy thinned, a roar split the air and shook the earth. Link looked up and saw a great beast come charging up the path. Four iron-clad hooves pounded the ground, and solid muscle rippled beneath the glossy flanks. Link, dumbfounded, stared into eyes shot with bloodlust. He didn’t even have the time to equip his shield. The lynel snarled, shaking out its shaggy mane before raising a massive weapon to smash him into fine Hylian pulp.

Link sprang back, hearing the whistle of the blade as it sliced the air just beneath his chin. In that split second, he saw his chance: the wide slash left the monster’s chest wide open. Link rushed in, managing to get in a few hefty hits before the beast roared once more and he had to get out of range of those powerful hooves.

It was not the most strategic of fights, but Link continued to dart around the beast’s legs to get in a good hit and trying to dodge the huge, crushing sword. It managed to swipe him, and more than once. Soon he was gasping and reeling, but so was the lynel. It staggered on trembling legs, its bleeding chest heaving. It raised its sword one more time, and so did Link.

He heard the final scream and felt the tip of the Master Sword pierce through flesh before a great force knocked him off his feet. The back of his head connected with something hard, and his vision went dark. That was it, until he opened his eyes and found Princess Zelda kneeling beside him.

Link swallowed and looked over to the princess, who was regarding him with a mixture of apprehension and awe.

“Sorry,” he said. “Won’t happen again.”

Princess Zelda shook her head. “I’m no longer surprised,” she said. “You’ve proven to be most obstinate. I simply fear that... I fear that this is an omen which portends the return of the Calamity.”

They continued sitting there for a few moments, digesting the thought. Link’s fingers tingled with the desire to take up his sword again.

Princess Zelda stood, dusting off her breeches. “If that's the case, I'm ready to expect the worst. We'll need to make preparations as soon as possible.”

Link followed her back down the mountain. They walked in silence for a while along the road. It was a fine day for travelling, but they had quite a distance to go. It wasn’t until they had reached the boggy wetlands when Princess Zelda spoke up again.

“Skyloft.”

He was ready. “A floating world raised from the ground by the Goddess. She did it to protect the Triforce from demons before taking form of a mortal Hylian to assist her chosen hero, the first hero.”

“The Kokiri.”

“A race of forest dwellers who raised the Hero of Time. The Kokiri Saria became one of the six sages, the Forest Sage.”

“Mirror of Twilight.”

“The only connection between Hyrule and the Twilight Realm. Destroyed by Princess Midna of the Twilit to prevent further harm to either world.”

His own princess smiled. “Three out of three.”

She threw these surprise quizzes at him every once in a while. After being chastised roundly at first for not having adequate responses, Link learned to do his homework regularly until he could answer her without hesitation. This was the first time she didn’t have any corrections or prompting.

The glittering surface of the wetlands soon narrowed into the mouth of a river. Princess Zelda’s eyes grew upon the appearance of the twin spear-like towers of Inogo Bridge. Even this modest structure boasted the intricate style of the Zora, a rich turquoise and beautiful.

“Only about six hours until we reach the heart of the Domain,” she said cheerfully as they crossed.

“Eight,” he corrected.

“May I remind you, nobody likes a pedant.” She shrugged, tossing her long hair back over one shoulder. “But you’re familiar with this route, then.”

He nodded, but she pressed him further. “How?”

“I spent a few seasons in Zora’s Domain when I was a child.”

The princess’s eyes widened even more. “Really? Do tell.”

Link readjusted his scabbard straps. Though it was significantly cooler than the slopes of Death Mountain, the air was thick with humidity and the spray of the running river. Plant life was abundant, with thickets of trees sprouting here and there from the verdant grasses along the riverbank. “My father used to be assigned to the embassy sent to Zora’s Domain each summer. I don’t have any other family, so I had to go with him.”

“Yes, right. I remember when we actually had a Zora ambassador.”

“Do you know why they stopped?”

“The Zora felt that it was an unfair exchange,” Princess Zelda said. “Hyrule Kingdom had much to gain from the Zora. Not just from material exports, but knowledge - their engineering and architectural feats are unparalleled throughout the continent. They also boast one of the best regional defenses out of all the Hyrulean nations, so there’s martial expertise as well. In return, Hylians did not have much to offer in the way of trade goods that appealed the Zora, and they had no interest in straying too far from their home. So overall, the shorter-lived and land-bound Hylians didn’t seem like a good investment.”

Her tone was so clipped and formal. Link felt compelled to defend the summers that rested so peacefully in his memories. “I was treated with nothing but kindness.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re a lovely people. It’s just politics.” The princess picked her way over wet boulders, stepping gingerly. “The only thing that persuaded them to continue giving so much to the Hylians was the fact that only those with the royal bloodline could possess the Triforce and stop the prophetic rise of the Calamity… but of course, they soon discovered that even this was no guarantee.” Princess Zelda’s gaze flickered to the ground as she gestured to herself. “So the Zora withdrew their aid, choosing to protect their own before sacrificing lives for a helpless cause. Which is perfectly understandable,” she added quickly.

Link didn’t know what to say. The princess turned away from him, running her fingers through a pale pink fan-shaped bush. The only sounds were the burbles of water tumbling over stones and croaks of frogs darting away from them.

“But they’ve agreed to allow a Zora Champion to pilot a Divine Beast.”

Princess Zelda nodded. “Things did improve after they discovered Vah Ruta in the waters. I really am in debt to Mipha for her support. She is the only reason we’re allowed an audience with the Zora council.” She lifted her chin. “I will prove to them that Hyrule can only move forward if the nations are united, not secluded behind barriers.”

There was little conversation afterward. The road was narrow and winding, but not difficult. Still, it took them all day, and the sun was sinking behind the cliffs when they finally reached the magnificent home of the Zora. Link listened to the tap of his boots on the smooth floor of the Great Zora Bridge. Arches passed over his head, glowing gently in the falling night from their luminous stone base. Zora design was delicate and graceful, drawing inspiration from the flowing waters from which they rose.

Link and Princess Zelda reached the end of the bridge, where they were met by Mipha herself. She stood out in this world of silver and blue with her scarlet fins and a golden braid of command draped round her shoulders. She smiled as they approached, but Link immediately noticed how the two knights standing behind her gripped their spears more tightly.

“Welcome back to Zora’s Domain,” she said to them both. She was facing Princess Zelda, but her eyes drifted beyond the princess’s shoulders to settle on Link. “I’ve been looking forward to your visit.”

Princess Zelda clasped Mipha's hand warmly. “So good to see you again. I’ve been looking forward to this too.”

The guards didn’t bother hiding their exchanged side glances. Mipha ignored them and raised her voice slightly. “We will do everything in our power to ensure that your stay is nothing but pleasant. Let it be known that the Zora value hospitality and civility above all else.”

Embarrassment flashed over the knights’ faces as Mipha and the princess began to walk up the staircase. Link followed them, looking around and feeling familiarity washing over him.

In the home of the aquatic Zora, water was integrated not only into the artistry of the architecture, but also for practical use. Here and there, pools of water only a few inches deep flowed with a silent current, resulting in waterfalls that cascaded over the edges and allowed citizens to swim up from the lake. Stairs were merely for visitors. Link passed curved slides that directed water back into the collecting pools on the lower levels, and he recalled bright, hot days when he had spent hours screaming and flailing down them, washing up in the pools collapsed with laughter.

But Mipha and Princess Zelda kept heading up. They were past even the second level now, aiming towards the very top of Zora’s Domain. Link looked up into the gaping mouth of a gigantic stone fish. Its eyes gleamed bright in the darkness, casting spiked shadows from its eyelids onto the scales overlapping each other higher, higher until they ended with a grand splash of a tail.

They walked into the open air throne room of King Dorephan. Mipha’s father waited for them in the royal seat of state. This was no simple chair, but a pool of water lined by glittering petals of glass around its edge, making it resemble a crystalline lotus in bloom. King Dorephan himself towered from its depths, a Zora so large that the tips of his crown brushed against the triple-crescent Zora crest carved in the ceiling above him. Like his daughter, he was also dressed in royal hues: crimson and gold and silver and sapphire.

“Ah, the Princess of Hyrule.” True to his girth, the King’s voice boomed and echoed around the room. “Your arrival has been highly anticipated. We are honoured that you have taken the time to come to us and agree to listen to your case. I understand that it has been a long journey.”

“Thank you for your kindness, King Dorephan,” Princess Zelda replied, bowing low. “I am more than ready to discuss matters of urgency. But if your grace is willing, I shall wait until morning. I would not presume to ask the Zora Council to meet at such an inopportune time.”

There was a low mumbling at this. A cluster of Zora were gathered at the side of the throne. They also sported symbols of office: badges and braid and pinch-faced expressions. All of them were staring at Princess Zelda with undisguised skepticism.

“We appreciate such thoughtfulness, Princess.” King Dorephan inclined his head. “So be it. The council is dismissed for the day, and we shall reconvene tomorrow.”

The Zora council looked at each other, then bowed as one towards the King. Link, Princess Zelda, Mipha and King Dorephan all waited as they filed out. When the council passed the pedestal, several of them greeted and touched Mipha’s fins in respect. A few of them also nodded towards the princess, but most simply walked past her, diving down the waterfalls without a second glance.

As soon as they were gone, Mipha turned to Princess Zelda. “Please forgive their manners. Many of our elders are mistrustful of outsiders. Some of them still aren’t fully on board with hosting Vah Ruta here in Lanayru, though I’ve assured them countless times of the benefits.”

The princess half-smiled. “Oh, I don’t blame them. They don’t know me. Perhaps we can come to a better understanding tomorrow.”

King Dorphan cleared his throat, a sound like crashing thunder. “Although we are quite aware of the gravity of the situation, leaving the safety of our domain is still a difficult concept for many Zora. I assure you, Princess, that I will assist you in convincing the council to help.”

“As will I,” Mipha promised. She turned around to Link. “And Link, of course, is a Hylian they all know well. Perhaps two familiar Champions can turn the tides.”

King Dorephan brightened. “What? You mean to say… that is little Link?” His face split into a warm smile, and deep laughter shook the pillars. “By the curve of my fin! I always forget how quickly Hylians grow. Mipha, I apologise. Your descriptions were certainly not too exaggerated… a strong and handsome knight, indeed.”

Link stepped up to the pedestal at the king’s gesture. He had to squeeze a little between the princess and Mipha - who started at the brush of his sleeve against her arm. She blushed, a hand flying up to her bejewelled throat.

King Dorephan gazed down at them, satisfied. “I have great confidence that tomorrow’s meeting will prove fruitful.”

Link was grateful when he was finally able to flop onto a provided bed - he resisted the temptation to bounce - and look through the pillars at the night sky. The stars were faint against the bright glow of Zora’s Domain. It had been years since he had such a view. The gentle, constant patter of falling water reassured him, as he was lulled to sleep, that he would never forget his time here.

There were some things he’d not quite remembered enough, like how the sunlight glared off the walls and pillars with such a ferocity that Link thought he’d gone blind when he opened his eyes the next morning. He stumbled into the dining area, squinting and shading his eyes from the brilliance. Princess Zelda and Mipha were already waiting for him.

“And he finally wakes,” the princess said. “As a royal guard, shouldn’t you be up by sunrise?”

“We’re not at the castle anymore,” he replied, helping himself to some steamed fish. Princess Zelda scoffed, and Mipha glanced between them.

“As soon as you’re ready, we can go and meet with the council,” she said. Just then, a shadow fell across them from the doorway. They all looked over to see a tall Zora knight breathing heavily and leaning on his spear.

Mipha stood up in alarm. “Derros! What happened? Is everything alright?”

“I’m afraid not, my lady.” Link saw that the knight’s ribcage was dappled with bruises. “There has been an… an incident at Lanayru Great Spring. I was sent for you; the others are recovering at Mikau Lake. Please, Lady Mipha, we are in dire need of your skill.”

Mipha balled one hand into a fist and picked up her trident from where it rested against the wall. “I’m so sorry, Princess, but I cannot refuse my people.”

Princess Zelda stood up too. “I understand. Please go.”

Mipha didn’t waste any time. She and Derros hurried away, making a beeline towards the eastern passage to Ploymus Mountain.

“Link, go with her.”

He was taken aback. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Princess Zelda looked resolute. “I’ll be fine on my own. This won’t be my first time facing a room full of people ready to oppose me. Help Mipha. Show them that Hylians are loyal allies and won’t back down in times of need.”

Something about the way she said these words, with an edge in her voice and determination flashing in her green eyes, kicked him into gear. Link leaped to his feet, grabbing the Master Sword and his shield before running after Mipha.

She and Derros were already over halfway across the bridge. Link caught up to them just as they crossed onto land. Mipha showed the barest hint of surprise at his presence, her attention drawn to a group of Zora in the lake shallows up ahead. Link counted a dozen of them, most lying prone amongst the reeds. Those who had managed to sit up shivered strangely with irregular muscle spasms. Link realised what was affecting them.

“Shock arrows,” one said hoarsely to Mipha as she dropped to her knees beside him. A silver light began to shine from her fingers as she rested her hands on his chest. “We couldn’t…”

“Shhh,” she commanded. The others stirred at the sound of her voice. They called out to her, begging and praising her name at the same time. Mipha moved from person to person quickly and quietly, silencing their cries with her smile and soothing touch.

“My lady,” the last Zora whispered reverently as she gently held his face, the cuts healing over in the glow. “I knew you would come.”

“Of course, Trello,” she said. “But what, may I ask, caused such harm to you?”

“It was just a daily patrol along the cliffs. The usual route around the reservoir. We were nearly returned when we heard it coming.” Trello closed his eyes as Mipha withdrew her hands. “It got Lansel. Three arrows in the chest. We couldn't even retrieve his body, it sparked so...”

“But what did it?” There was a quaver in Mipha’s voice as she spoke again.

“A fearsome creature, one I have never seen in these parts before… it had the body of a horse, with a man’s torso but a beast’s face. Great masses of hair round its head. The biggest weapons I’ve ever seen.”

Mipha frowned, but Link understood at once. “A lynel.”

He didn’t miss the irritation in Trello’s glance over at him. “Yes.”

Link straightened. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What?” Mipha looked up sharply. “Link… wait!”

Link walked away from her towards the mountain. The lake was fed by a waterfall, clearly dammed by the Zora themselves from the fanciful designs carved in the wall of stone behind it. Link climbed up onto a rock and regarded the sheets of water crashing down just feet away from him. There was an easy way up to the mountain, provided that he had assistance…

He wasn’t surprised when there was a soft splash behind him. Link saw a flash of bright red out the corner of his eye. “You’re not serious.”

Link gestured back at the injured Zora Knights. “Your best weren’t able to stop it. The monster’s already at the edge of the Domain. It can’t be allowed to advance.”

Mipha held his gaze, her warm eyes full of concern. “You are my dear friend and guest. I am responsible for you while you are here. I won’t take you into danger.”

Link glanced up the waterfalls again. “I only need a way up.”

“No.”

“Come on, Mipha.” He took her hand. For some reason, she gasped and stiffened at his touch. “You’re the only one who can help. Don’t you believe in me?”

She stared hard at him for a few moments before he felt her fingers slip out of his. Link was about to turn to the knights and ask them about another way up the mountain when Mipha suddenly wrapped her arms around him. Link blinked in surprise as he tried not to bump his forehead into the crest of her head tail.

“Breathe deep,” she said.

“Wha—?”

Still holding him, Mipha leaped into a high dive, and Link quickly gulped down some air before they plunged into the lake. They ascended so quickly that he could barely feel the water cascading over his skin, just a vague coolness that burst into warmth when Mipha sent them sailing up into the air at the waterfall’s edge, landing gracefully onto the dewy grass. She didn’t let go of Link even while he sputtered in her face.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” She laughed at his pitiful state.

“You didn’t give much of a warning,” he accused.

“You’re too big to ride on my back anymore,” she replied. Her eyes darted around his face, taking in details at such a close proximity. Faint roses appeared on her cheeks. “This is better, don’t you think?”

She allowed him a generous four seconds before they dived into the next fall together.

The top of Ploymus Mountain was not what he expected. It was a bright, grassy knoll dotted with a few ponds and some scattered rocks. Trees grew sparsely but never close enough to constitute a copse or even a grove. The Domain glittered below, the great fish of the throne room flashing its tail up at them. It was not, Link thought, your typical monster’s lair.

Mipha’s smile had disappeared. “Alright, Link. I don’t see it. Let’s go back.”

“Hold on,” he said. She wasn’t happy about waiting, but after a few seconds the truth was revealed: the lynel came trotting out from behind a distant cliff into the sunlight. A breeze rippled through its dark red mane, and Link took note of its weapons: a shield with blades affixed to its edges, and a familiar heavy, curved sword.

He felt a hand around his wrist. “Link, please. It’s too dangerous.”

Link reached up for the Master Sword, but Mipha held tight. He tried to shake her off. “Then you go back. I’ll be fine on my own.”

She glared at him. “I will not abandon you to almost certain death at the hands of this monster!”

“I’ve beaten another of its kind before. Actually, this one looks smaller.”

“I don’t care.” Mipha’s voice rose as she became more agitated. “I can’t protect you from whatever you do out there in the wild, but here in my kingdom you will listen to me. And I want you, Sir Link, to stand down and leave with m—”

She was drowned out by a skull-shattering roar. Link barely had time to turn his head and register the glowering green eyes in the snarling, dark face. The lynel, standing a mere ten feet away, raised both shield and sword before lunging.

Link threw himself over Mipha, tackling her to the ground. Her scream of fear almost split his eardrums, but it was nothing compared to the heavy blow that walloped into his back. Pain thudded through his body, and he knew he would have been knocked cold if it weren’t for his shield. Not daring to look behind them, Link scrambled to his feet, pulling Mipha up with him. They ran off as fast as they could, not paying attention to where just as long as it was away from the furious beast pawing its hooves and howling.

“Go back down the waterfall,” he panted at her.

“Not a chance,” she gasped back. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Damn it, Mipha! You could die!”

“So could you!”

“I’m different, I’m not a Zora, don’t you remember what they said? This one’s got sho—”

They had rushed blindly right into a boulder that jutted out from the ground with a straight, smooth side: the perfect wall to trap them by. Link cursed again as Mipha looked at the trees all around them.  Nearly all of them had at least one gleaming shaft of a jagged, bright yellow arrow sticking out of their trunks.

Link heard the singing of heat. He looked up and saw the lynel notch an identical arrow to its enormous bow, the tip sparking and sizzling with electricity.

“MIPHA! MOVE!”

She didn’t seem to hear him, gaping at the lynel with locked knees, completely frozen. Link saw the arrow loose, and there was no time to think. He jumped.

Pain and heat and more pain exploded in his shoulder. Everything stung. His hand released the Master Sword, but he couldn’t move for the rapid currents of hurt that rippled up and down his limbs. Link could hear Mipha crying nearby but knew that she couldn’t touch him or it would be instant death for her. He could only see, through the crackling haze around his body, her taking up the lightscale trident in both hands before running forward.

She was headed the exact opposite direction he wanted. Link grunted, pushing through the pain to pick up his sword again. Mipha and the lynel were running full tilt at each other, their weapons raised — a slender spear against this massive tool of destruction — until she suddenly stopped and flung the trident up in a twirling arc. The lynel skidded to a halt, blinking down in surprise at the prongs now embedded in its chest.

Link staggered up, feeling the last sparks of the shock arrow fade away. He saw Mipha’s eyes light up with hope as the lynel sank down on one knee. But this didn’t feel like the end. Link saw the lynel’s biceps bulge as it gripped the trident by the shaft. In seconds, it would pull the weapon out and toss it aside like a tree branch. Mipha stood in the open, completely defenseless. He couldn’t let the lynel near her.

Still reeling, Link charged across the grass. Just as the lynel made to rise, he threw himself over the beast’s back, straddling it. The lynel was sufficiently distracted, bellowing and bucking like a wild horse from the plains, and Link clung on for dear life. He hacked at its back with the Master Sword, every shriek and snarl blessed encouragement that he was finally starting to win.

But he didn’t have enough stamina to stay mounted forever. Link felt the lynel’s flank muscles contract under his legs and knew that the next moment, he would go flying off the creature. He braced himself for this, mind trying to work out a strategy to get back before it noticed Mipha again… but instead, he just lost his balance and slid off the lynel’s back. A hoof like a Goron’s fist collided against his ribs. Link heard the sickening crunch, and he curled up in the grass while the lynel roared above him. He could hardly move. He was finished. So was Mipha. And he had failed the princess’s last command, not to back down…

The lynel suddenly stilled. Link saw the shaggy red mane swaying this way and that. Realisation dawned upon him - the monster didn’t know where he had went. The Master Sword shone beside him in the grass, urging him. Link crawled to his knees and reached for it, but his arms were trembling. He had to hold the hilt with both hands.

Link stood up, shaking. He breathed in and leaned back. He allowed his centre of gravity to dictate this final act of defiance, first spinning slowly, then picking up speed. The sword’s swing strengthened more and more with the momentum. The world went quiet, his surroundings dimmed, and time slowed as the blade of evil’s bane hacked at its target again and again and again and again.

Somehow, Link managed to stay on his feet when the lynel finally fell down, this time on both knees. He saw the light fading from its cruel eyes before the beast crumpled into the ground.

“See,” he rasped. “I did it.” And then he collapsed too.

Chapter Text

Soon, Link became aware of arms cradling him. When he felt the cool mercy of water flowing over his burning skin, he knew who was holding him and where he was going. He was safe.

Mipha didn’t stop until they were back in the heart of the Domain itself. Link opened his eyes as she lay him in the pool behind the statue of the Goddess. “You’re just…” Her eyes were filled with tears, but she was also smiling. “You are the most brave and noble and wonderful and stupid of all the warriors I’ve ever known.”

He would have replied, but everything still hurt. So he closed his eyes again while the silvery glow from Mipha’s hands enveloped him. It was nice to lie there, feeling the wounds close and aches ebbing away like the water that flowed around his body. After a while, he heard pattering footsteps and a familiar voice.

“We haven’t come to a solid agreement yet, but considering how it started, things are looking good! Both the Regencia and Hylia Rivers encircle Hyrule Field, with several garrisons already established on their banks. I suggested that both the Hyrulean and Zora infantries share the command of these posts so both land and aquatic defense can operate from such strategic points. And this is also a prime opportunity to expand the Zora sphere of influence, since this will facilitate easier trade between Lanayru and other provinces. The council seemed to be very interested in that element, at least. But they’re still debating… What in Hylia’s good name happened to you?”

A small wave spilled over Link’s forehead, and he coughed when some of it went up his nose. He opened his eyes and saw Princess Zelda standing over him, her green eyes big as the moon.

“Link defeated the lynel of Ploymus Mountain,” Mipha said.

“Another lynel…?!” The princess’s jaw dropped. She quickly closed it and knelt down beside him, ignoring the water seeping into her breeches. “Link! We just discussed this yesterday. You have to stop fighting every single creature you come across.”

“It had shock arrows,” he reminded everyone. “And was right on the border of Zora’s Domain. Anyway, you said not to back down in times of need.”

The princess sighed. “So I did.”

“Link was amazing up there,” Mipha said. She was still gazing at him with that tender, teary expression. “He saved my life.”

Princess Zelda smiled at him with pride. She had never done that before. Suddenly, Link didn’t feel like lying down anymore. He struggled to sit up.

Mipha tried to stop him. “Don’t push yourself.”

“No, it’s okay. Feeling better.” He flashed her a thumbs up. “Good to go. Thanks.”

She looked doubtful, but Princess Zelda hopped to her feet. “Mipha, I don’t know what we’d do without you. Well, it’s still early! We have several hours before the banquet. If it’s alright, may we go visit Vah Ruta?”

“Certainly, Princess,” Mipha said automatically. She still eyed Link as the three of them went back towards the eastern passage. He pretended not to notice, watching the swish of Princess Zelda’s hair in front of him instead.

They crossed the bridge again, but upon reaching the path Mipha led them along the right fork instead of the left. Squirrels and deer scattered into the tall trees and dewy grass. The East Reservoir Lake Dam was even bigger than the one at Mikau Lake. More luminous stone had been incorporated into its design. Elegant geometrical patterns spilled a soft glow upon the gently sloping staircases that crossed back and forth until they reached the top.

The top of the dam also functioned as a jetty and outpost. Zora guards saluted Mipha as she walked by them. Link and Princess Zelda followed her to the end of the jetty. There was nothing to be seen but the reservoir itself: a flat stretch of deep, dark blue. Mipha closed her eyes and held out her arms.

Nothing seemed to happen. Then, the water by their feet began to ripple, lapping against the edge of the platform. Mipha smiled. A great round spout burst from the reservoir’s depths, water gushing from its tip in a high arc. The princess laughed in delight as a rounded back followed suit. Divine Beast Vah Ruta emerged from the lake slowly, more water spewing from its sides in great frothy streams. Huge discs churned on either side of the beast’s head. It raised its trunk again and trumpeted in greeting at them.

Princess Zelda was beside herself. “Oh! It’s beautiful! See how the gears spin to control the hatches for the water.”

Despite its enormous size, Ruta floated well, gliding over with nary a sound. It finally stopped by the jetty and lowered a side platform to allow entrance to its interior. Princess Zelda immediately jumped over and ran inside. Link made to follow her, but Mipha stopped him.

“I’m not finished with you.” She turned his arm around to reveal the long gash of a fresh scar and several bruises still colouring his skin.

He couldn’t help looking over his shoulder to where the princess had disappeared. “But shouldn’t we–”

“It’s alright. I’m keeping track of her. Let her focus on her research. Besides…” Mipha gently tugged him towards Ruta’s head. “We haven’t had the chance to really talk.”

There was nothing he could do but allow her to take him across the long, sectioned trunk of Vah Ruta. They sat down on the rim of the spout before Mipha directed it upward. Link’s fingers gripped the edge as he peered over it. The world below shrank rapidly. He was greeted by a spectacular view of Lanayru and the surrounding provinces. There was Death Mountain spewing ash, the red and bronze trees of Akkala, the green grasslands of Necluda, and in the distance, Hyrule Castle’s dark silhouette.

Mipha had already taken his arm, the silvery glow from her fingers faint in the late afternoon sun. “I was thinking,” she started, “this reminds me of the time we first met. You were just a reckless child, always getting yourself hurt at every turn. Every time, I would heal you.”

Link remembered, too. The moment when he had first stepped foot on the Great Zora Bridge would never leave him. It was the most beautiful place he’d ever seen. Castle Town was no slum, but compared to the paradise of Zora’s Domain… it was forgotten for this amazing wonderland. But with his father busy attending to the Hylian ambassador, there had been nobody to prevent him from slipping in one of the pools, sliding so easily across the smooth floor that he had sailed right off a waterfalls and into the lake below. Thinking of how painful it was when he hit the water still made him wince. Surely, he would have been lost to the lake if there hadn’t been two arms grasping him and flying back up the waterfall… Link had been too mesmerised by the silver shine to properly thank his saviour until much later. But Mipha had laughed and patted his head, not at all offended. From then on, even as he made more friends amongst the Zora children and learned to swim, Link could always run back to her for more smiles and magic.

The scar disappeared from his skin. Mipha moved onto the bruises. “You know, when I saw you at the castle for the first time as Champion, standing so tall and with the sword that seals the darkness at your back… I thought it was funny that being a Hylian, you looked grown up so much faster than I did. I really am so proud of you, Link.”

She looked at him carefully, but he didn’t know what she wanted him to say. “Thank you.”

Mipha sighed and the silvery light faded away. Link flexed his arm, as good as new, while she folded her hands in her lap. “So if this Calamity does return, what can we really do? We just don’t seem to know much about what we’ll be up against.”

Link looked down at the rest of Vah Ruta. He could only see the Divine Beast’s slowly rotating eyes, and the stone ear slabs jutting out at either end. Princess Zelda was in there somewhere, soaking up ancient Sheikah secrets.

“We’re learning more and more,” he said. Mipha reached over and turned his chin back to face her.

“Know this,” she said. “No matter how difficult this battle might get, if… if anyone tries to do you harm, I will heal you. No matter when or how bad the wound, I hope you know that I will always protect you.”

She looked so solemn. Link hadn’t realised that the threat of the Calamity had made such an impact on her. He felt a little guilty. Mipha was taking her duties as Champion very seriously, so he too should be thinking more about the battles ahead. She had always been like this, setting an example for him.

“Once this whole thing is over, maybe things can go back to how they used to be back when we were young.” Mipha stared into his eyes. “You know… perhaps we could spend some time together.”

Link didn’t think that anything would be the same again, but it was nice, wishful thinking. “Sure.”

Mipha brightened at once. She moved her hand down to his and squeezed it. He felt encouraged by the affection in her touch. It was true - they might not know much about what they would be up against, but by working together, they might just win.

“Oh! Mipha!”

They both looked back and saw the princess waving at them from the top of Ruta’s head.

“It’s incredible!” Princess Zelda started climbing down towards them. “The mechanisms are powered by electricity. You’d think that would be an awful idea, considering that Vah Ruta is the Divine Beast associated with water, but they found a way to ground the currents and keep them well protected from the flow. If we can find a way to isolate that piece of technology and work out the science behind it, think of all the advancements we can make. We could improve even an everyday quality of living all around Hyrule.”

“But there are also the typical winches and pulleys,” she continued as Link and Mipha joined her, “And a good, old fashioned water wheel. So it’s nice to see that the ancients also saw the value in fundamental machinery too.”

There were soaking wet spots all over her clothes, and the braid in her hair had almost come undone. But the princess’s smile outshone everything else. Link didn’t realise he was staring at her until Mipha cleared her throat.

“The banquet will begin at around eight in the evening,” she said. “Let’s return. I’m sure you’ll need some time to get ready.”

Once again, Link found himself suddenly remembering another aspect of Zora culture: social functions. Banquets were not taken lightly in the Domain. One was expected to present themselves at their very best. When he was young, Link had been forced into a miniature version of the guard uniforms to represent his father and the Hyrulean knighthood. Perhaps that was why he had gotten used to the cap and boots so quickly once he had been officially inducted.

He had not prepared anything on this trip, however, so Link awkwardly slunk into the party in his Champion’s tunic. At least it was clean. The platforms and staircases were filled with Zora in all their finery. Fabric was an uncommon choice for a people who spent half their time submerged in water, so jewellery was the most important way to show off one’s style. The women clinked with bangles and long chains hung with bright and expensive pendants. Most men were wearing ceremonial armour featuring artful designs and inlaid with gems. Even most children had at least a brooch or a headpiece.

Princess Zelda waited by a railing alone. Curiously, she was wearing her ceremonial dress, simple and white save for the golden belt and accessories. Nobody paused to speak with her, so she was tracing her fingers over the back of one hand when Link finally came to stand at her side.

“My other gowns would trail in the water,” she explained to him. “And this material is designed to get wet anyway, considering all the rituals involving springs. But perhaps it’s not considered formal enough. I didn’t even do anything with my hair except for combing out the tangles —”

“You look fine,” he said. In fact, it was refreshing to see someone who wasn’t dripping in gems and metalwork. Between her yellow hair and the purity of the dress, she was a single bright spot in the midst of the preferred cool hues of teal, silver, and maroon of the Zora.

Princess Zelda didn’t seem wholly convinced, but she did drop her hands. She laced them behind her back instead and surveyed the crowd of shimmering and graceful Zora. “I feel very out of place here. But I’m sure it’s all familiar to you.”

“It’s familiar, but I still failed the dress code.”

The princess looked him up and down, taking in his travel trousers and frayed undershirt. “I’ll just stay standing next to you, then.”

Their laughter was cut off by a badly faked cough. Link looked round. Standing before them was a middle-aged Zora sporting jade and silver epaulettes and a haughty sneer. His head tail was very wide and flat, the side flaps fluttering on other side of his face.

“Hyrule’s princess,” he stated stiffly. “And her knight. I see you are observing our festivities.”

Princess Zelda bowed. “It’s an honour to have been invited.” She stared at Link pointedly until he did the same, reluctantly.

“We Zora do not have such petty, classist inclinations to invite guests to our banquets. The generosity of King Dorephan opens up these events to any and all who wish to attend. Unlike other nations, we believe in unselfishly sharing the bounty of our Domain with our people, no matter the rank.”

“That’s a beautiful sentiment. Hyrule Kingdom would do well to emulate such a custom.”

“It would!” The Zora’s voice rose triumphantly. “Hylians have many a thing to learn from the Zora!”

Princess Zelda nodded. “So, that is why, in the meeting, I mentioned that a closer working relationship between the kingdoms would serve both our needs…”

“I was there at the meeting, your highness,” interrupted the Zora. Link was disliking him more with each passing second. “I heard what you said. My fellow council members may have been enticed by your offers, but I made sure that they took the time to stand back and consider the benefits and drawbacks for the Zora first.”

“Indeed, as you ought.”

The Zora councilor paused and sighed deeply, as if he didn’t want to deliver the news. “The Zora Council has agreed to your terms. We will send three battalions of Zora knights to man the riverside outposts around Hyrule Kingdom. In return, passage to Gerudo, Hebra, and Faron will be opened to the Zora with minimal restriction, and in the case of an aquatic attack by the enemy, Zora captains will be given priority in command.”

“Yes!” Princess Zelda jumped joyfully, causing the councilor to step back in offended alarm. “Thank you. Oh, thank you. Hyrule will most certainly adhere to their side of the bargain. This will help both of us, I promise.”

“Hmph.” The councilor grumbled, but did not take back his words. “I will draft a treaty to be signed at the earliest available date. A Rito courier will send a copy directly to Hyrule Castle.”

“Wonderful. Do let me know when it is ready.” Princess Zelda beamed. “Thank you, Muzu. May I introduce Link, Hyrule Champion and bearer of the sword that seals the darkness. Link, this is Muzu, the Minister Administrator of the Zora Council.”

Muzu puffed up indignantly. “And personal educator of Lady Mipha!”

“Yes, of course. Mipha has been absolutely invaluable to the Champion team, providing much needed strength and counsel. I’m sure your tutelage has formed her keen sense of discernment.”

If Muzu could preen any harder, Link was sure he would burst. “Well, Lady Mipha was born with her natural aptitude and talent. I merely guide her along the streams of wisdom.”

“We are indebted to you, then.” Somehow, Princess Zelda kept a straight face as she bowed to Muzu again. “Thank you so much.”

Link shook his head as Muzu sauntered away smugly. “How can you…?”

“Negotiating,” the princess said, selecting two seafood skewers from a nearby table, “Means knowing the right angle to spin the story so it benefits everyone.”

“So… lying through your teeth.”

She chose not to say anything, only offering him one of the skewers with a smile. He couldn’t say no, of course. It felt absolutely surreal to be standing next to her, eating crab off a stick and having a good time. It was hard to believe that just one month ago, she had tried to lose him in a sandstorm.

“Link!” Mipha emerged from the throng. Silver glittered all over her person, from the opal-studded belt around her hips to the delicately wrought armbands. The triple-crescent Zora royal crest dangled over her head fins. She had also put on her Champions’ cloth, the bright blue sash looped around one shoulder. She stopped and admired them both. “Look, we match.”

“This is the only shirt I have with me,” Link confessed. Mipha laughed.

“And it was the most troublesome to make,” Princess Zelda added. “Unlike yours, Mipha. All that embroidery! Though actually, the stitching for Vah Rudania took the most time…”

Mipha perked up at this. “I don’t suppose you still have the measurements.”

Princess Zelda nodded. “Of all the Champions, Link's was the only one that required them. You have a remarkably narrow waist for your age,” she informed him. He had no idea how to respond to such a statement.

“Speaking of clothing…” Mipha motioned behind her. “I told Father what you did for us, Link. That lynel would have continued to terrorise our Domain if it hadn’t been for your bravery. On the behalf of all the Zora, we would like to express our gratitude.”

Two knights appeared, bearing a chest. Princess Zelda leaned over curiously as Link knelt down and opened it. Inside was a strange looking cap with a metal forehead guard and a navy hood. At least, that’s what he thought it was until he picked it up. What looked like cloth was actually a careful, close weave of tiny scales that caught the glow from the luminous stones, reflecting an iridescent sheen. Link put on the Zora helm, feeling the flaps slide over his hair smoothly.

Princess Zelda was extremely amused. “You look like you have a head tail.”

“Does this pass for formal wear?” he wanted to know. Both girls laughed at him.

“Not without the rest of the armour,” Princess Zelda said. At these words, Mipha seemed to stiffen.

“Princess,” she suddenly said, “You’re aware that we have a Sheikah shrine right here in the heart of the Domain?”

“You do?”

“Yes, it’s always been here. Right beneath this level, located behind the Fountain of Welcoming. ” Mipha gestured to another Zora standing a distance from them. "Jiahto, our head stonemason, might have more to tell you. Our engineers have studied it for generations."

The princess’s sandals splashed loudly as she hurried over the pools. Link saw the Zora blink, perplexed at this tiny Hylian maiden who now demanded his attention. Mipha looked embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have done that, but…” She shrugged. “I don’t regret it. What were the two of you talking about?”

Link explained the agreement with the Zora council. Mipha was impressed. “I was worried about the meeting. The elders are notoriously difficult to please. She must be excellent at debate.”

Yes, the princess’s stubbornness and spirited personality would have made those cranky old geezers wish they’d never underestimated her. Now Link wished he could have been there to see it.

He was relieved that Mipha chose to stay with him throughout the rest of the night. She was beloved amongst her people, and so many were eager to speak with her. Ever gracious, she would patiently listen to whatever they had to say, even if it was little more than an excited greeting. Many praised her commmand of Vah Ruta. Others inquired after her father and brother. Derros, now sporting bandages barely hidden by his gilded chestplate, returned to thank her once again for taking care of the patrol squad. Several young Zora males tried to engage Mipha in deeper conversation using barely masked suggestions to leave the banquet with them, but she gently and firmly declined. They would walk away with deflated fins, and more than one of them shot a baleful glance at Link as they did so.

After the fifth suitor departed, Mipha glanced around. “Too many people are here. I just wanted you to myself.”

She blinked and covered her mouth. Link shrugged awkwardly. “I’m… sorry?”

Mipha shook her head. “My fault for expecting any privacy at a public event. And you’ll be leaving with the princess in the morning.”

She looked so disappointed. “Maybe there’ll be more time after the banquet.”

“That’s a good idea. Could you…” She fingered the edges of her sash and stared at the floor, a blush spreading over her cheeks. “Could you meet me at the Veiled Falls at sunrise? The festivities will keep going for a while, so I’m sure the princess won’t be expecting you to leave that early.”

“Okay.”

Mipha smiled at him. “Thank you.”

The banquet didn’t die down until well after midnight, and Link was more than ready to curl up under a blanket and ignore the world for a few hours. But he had to keep his promise to Mipha. So shortly before the dawn, he reluctantly pulled himself from the cool embrace of the inn's water bed and quietly went outside.

Zora's Domain glowed softly under the dark sky. A pale blue halo rising from the sculpted pillars. Soon, it would mingle with the oncoming rays of sun that would turn this soft, muted world into a brilliant flash of crystal. Link's boots splashed in the water flowing over the edge of the Fountain of Welcoming. He was about to walk up the staircase when he froze, suddenly noticing that he was not alone.

Princess Zelda sat at the edge of the pool, arms wrapped around her knees. Her face was tilted back, gazing up at the glistening cliffs that encircled the Domain. She was still wearing her ceremonial dress. Link couldn’t be sure if she had even gone to bed at all. She turned her head and they locked eyes.

The princess shrugged. “Alright, you caught me. But I'm not going to run. Promise.”

"Didn't think you would.” He sat down beside her. They both stared at the jets of water that sprayed up from the fountain. Link finally saw the shrine hiding within an alcove and down a short flight of stairs. Lily pads and fleet lotus-seeds sprouted around it. It was such a stark difference from the glossy, carefully structured design of the rest of Zora's Domain. "Did you learn anything?"

"Not much more, other than the Zora's opinion of the Sheikah." Princess Zelda curled up tightly, tucking her chin into her elbows. "They're not too impressed at how the tribe dedicated their lives to the Hyrulean royal family. It was an awkward discussion, at best."

She leaned her cheek upon her arm, sighing. "They don't think highly of us at all, and I don't blame them. Look at this place. A water-based city built almost entirely of luminous stone. Practical and aesthetic rolled into one. And everyone at the banquet was so intelligent and refined and charming. I felt like a silly child compared to most of them."

"Oh, I always feel that way," he told her. The princess allowed herself a tiny smile.

“I’m so glad that I’ve gotten to know Mipha better,” she added. “It was always so strange to hear about this other princess in Hyrule, but Father insisted that I concentrate on training instead of getting distracted by travels. I only met her after they hosted the Champion trials. She did amazingly, by the way. The Zora are so proud of her. They trust her with protection of the Domain without any doubt at all… but it’s because she’s proven herself. They know she can do it. They’ve seen her.”

She stopped there. Link knew that they weren’t really talking about Mipha. Princess Zelda traced the back of her hand again. He wondered if she was aware of this habit. Her eyelids drooped, and not from exhaustion. Link recognised the invisible cloud of gloom settling around her shoulders just like it did at the Temple of Time and countless of times in the castle, always whenever she put on this white dress.

“My father says that thanklessness is a good sign,” he said. “When people don’t see the effort in the undertaking, that’s mastery at work.”

Princess Zelda blinked. Her eyes looked turquoise from the blue all around her. “But that also requires success first.”

Link searched his mind. He didn’t want her to think about that, at least not now. Mipha’s words returned to him. “You convinced the Zora Council. The elders are notoriously difficult to please. You must be excellent at debate.”

Her smile grew. “Thank you, Link.”

Looking at her made his heart race. So Link leaned back on his hands and watched as pink suffused the sky, tinting all the clouds with a rosy bloom. It clashed strangely with the cool blues of Zora’s Domain, and the grey shadows that fell over them from the cliffs of Lanayru stretched slowly over the running water.

“Link!”

They turned. He had actually forgotten why he was up so early. Mipha was running down the staircase, the pale green beads in her anklets jangling. She looked absolutely euphoric at the sight of him, but stopped short when she realised Princess Zelda was sitting there too. Link was suddenly seized with an intense feeling of panic and regret as the two princesses stared at each other.

Mipha took a step back up the staircase. “Oh.”

Link quickly got to his feet. “I just saw…”

Mipha shot him a warning look, and he stopped talking. Evidently, the presence of the princess had thrown a wrench into the plan. Princess Zelda stood up.

“I didn’t feel like sleeping,” she explained. “And I must say, that was a stroke of luck. Look at this beautiful sunrise!”

Mipha blinked and looked up. Buttery beams of light were breaking through the clouds now, shooting streaks through the sky like a painter’s brush. The walls of Zora’s Domain started to take on the sparkle of day.

“You’re right,” she said slowly. “It’s lovely.” She glanced over at Link.

Princess Zelda noticed. “He was trying to prevent my escape. We’ve had a history of it.”

Link knew she was being light-hearted, but Mipha certainly did not understand. “Well,” she finally said. “The two of you have a long journey ahead. I hope you will still be properly rested.”

“Yes,” Princess Zelda agreed. She hesitated. “I didn’t mean to cause any disturbance.”

“Of course not,” Mipha said immediately. “I merely heard a noise and went to check on it. I’m so relieved to discover that all is well. Let’s all return and sleep a little while longer.”

She turned and walked back up the stair. Link watched her go. Even after the princess had retired, Mipha did not return. In the end, he gave up and went back into the inn, throwing himself into bed.

The next time he opened his eyes, it was late morning and the sun was burning high above Zora’s Domain. Princess Zelda yawned and rubbed her eyes in front of the Fountain of Welcoming. She smiled ruefully at Link in greeting. She was back in her royal blue field clothes, the Sheikah Slate hung on her hip.

Mipha stood by with two of her guard. Although Link felt like there had been ample time to sleep in, fatigue lined her features. When he walked up to her, she tensed up, as if she was thinking of keeping her distance. But when their eyes met, he saw the coldness melt away at once.

“We just didn’t have enough time,” she said. “As I said… once this is all over.”

He could only nod. Mipha turned to the princess. The girls exchanged the formal goodbyes as dictated by their titles. Link started to worry at how ceremonial it all seemed, but then Princess Zelda stepped forward and gave Mipha a hug. Link’s old friend started, but then a true smile spread across her face as she hugged back.

“I wish you safety and the blessings of the Goddess on your travels,” she said earnestly to the princess. Then she turned. “And Link…” She reached out and touched his arm. He thought he saw the tips of her fingers shining silver for a moment. Mipha smiled at him too, genuine and gentle. “Don’t forget what I told you. I meant every word.”

Link turned around and followed the princess down the Great Zora Bridge. He listened to the tap of his boots on the smooth floor. The soothing, musical sounds of the waterfalls cascading over the cliffs would soon cease as they hit the road for Hyrule Kingdom once again. His heart lurched in his chest after the final arch of the bridge passed over his head.

This exit felt different than all the others. He felt like he was leaving something behind for good. Link’s toe scuffed the wet grass in front of him. Yes, his world had changed. Zora’s Domain would never be the magical haven four year old Link had loved again. He glanced down at the bright blue cloth of his tunic. Even Mipha had changed. Being a Champion changed everything.

For the first time, Link finally felt a stab of foreboding in his gut when he thought of the words Calamity Ganon.

Princess Zelda was not privy to these thoughts. She was walking briskly, even jubilantly, her hair catching the light with every movement. She hummed absent-mindedly, smiling up at the birds trilling in the treetops and turning to watch fish swimming up the river’s current. At a bend in the path, she suddenly stopped and spun around to face him.

“We’ve worked very hard,” she declared. “It’s time for a break. Let’s go to Kakariko Village.”

Chapter Text

Link had never considered the fact that the Sheikah had to have a home village of their own. There were so many who resided in or around Castle Town that he simply thought of them as part of the fabric of the royal court, woven into the background despite the fact that so many of them – Impa, Purah, Robbie – played such key roles. This realisation rocked him as Princess Zelda led him through the Lanayru Wetlands and down a well-worn trail that threaded carefully through and around towering karst mountains. Pale wisps of mist scattered at their peaks.

They emerged out of what Link thought was the beginning of a wood to find themselves at the edge of a cliff. Link blinked in amazement at the cosy village nestled under the protection of the mountains. It truly was the perfect hiding spot for a secretive tribe. The small hollow was dotted with the round thatched roofs of cottages that looked like black turtle shells in a green pond. Red wooden tags strung up on twine rattled softly in the breeze, indicating the direction of the wind. Even in the bright afternoon, lanterns burned warmly from behind paper screens. Link smelled smoldering wood from cooking fires, and it took him a few minutes to find their origins. The smoke dissipated into the air well before clearing the hilltops.

Princess Zelda pointed out the largest building, elevated on stilts and sitting on a rise. Link could see guards standing beside a curved wooden gate that was hung with cloth flags featuring the traditional Sheikah eye. Twin waterfalls tumbled down behind it in to a deep pond. “That’s Impa’s house. I don’t know if she’s here right now, but we’ll be welcome to stay there.”

As they descended the hill, Link continued to marvel at this new world he’d walked into. Kakariko Village didn’t feel like part of the wider land of Hyrule. Everyone they passed was dressed in Sheikah garb. A significant portion of the population sported the classic top knot and the large tattoo on their foreheads. This was a tribe steeped in tradition. Link saw that many homes had at least one stone statue sitting by the entrances: fat frogs who contemplated with closed eyes the delectable offerings laid before their feet.

Although they stood out like sore thumbs, nobody seemed shocked or suspicious of their presence. In fact, a few Sheikah who noticed Princess Zelda would nod to her, some even bowing. Link immediately understood why she liked coming here. The Sheikah, faithful servants of Hylia and the royal family, treated the princess with respect, but without any of the sycophancy.

The two guards before Impa’s house greeted the princess the same way, reserved but heartfelt. “It’s been quite a long time, Princess.”

She was all smiles. “Wan, Kento. I know! I missed this place. Is Impa in?”

“She is, in fact. Just returned from Hyrule Castle last night. You’ve got excellent timing.”

They stood back and allowed them to ascend the wooden staircase. Link stayed behind the princess when she pushed open a set of thick wooden double doors that opened into a dim, airy hall. Link breathed in the smell of cedar, charcoal, and incense. There was a small group of people inside, kneeling on flat cushions that lay in neat rows upon the floor. Several turned in annoyance at the creak of the door, but their expressions soon changed to those of pleasant surprise at the sight of Princess Zelda. At their head, seated on a raised platform, was Impa herself. She smiled broadly at Link and the princess.

“It’s a delight to see you again, Princess. Does this mean that all four Divine Beasts are in good working order?”

Princess Zelda walked directly to her down the aisle of cushions. The other Sheikah bent their foreheads to the floor as she passed. “Yes! And they’re all such wonders. There’s so much to share with you, Impa.”

“Then we must go through your discoveries at once. The world grows more perilous as we wait.” Impa motioned for the kneeling Sheikah to rise. “In the meantime, we should prepare for the princess’s stay. Make sure there’s enough food and keep careful watch on the village perimeter. We cannot allow the Yiga to slip through our defenses.”

Impa’s subordinates nodded and left them. Princess Zelda pulled up one of the flat cushions, settling down while taking out her field journals. “Link, this might take a while. If you want to stay that’s fine, but don’t feel like you have to.”

She had never bothered giving him a choice before. If Link was to be completely honest, sitting still like a bump on a log while two much smarter people talked technology over his head was not in his immediate interests. “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

Princess Zelda waved absentmindedly as she spread out her notes upon the floor. Impa glanced between the two of them before arching her eyebrows at Link, then turning her full attention to the princess.

The afternoon was stretching into early evening. Link stood on the porch of Impa’s house for a while, looking out at the village. The Sheikah had made the most out of their tiny, hidden enclave, cultivating small gardens and orchards upon terraced slopes. Red crested cuccos darted in and out of the shadowy recesses that the wooden stilts holding up each house created, pecking at grubs that crawled around mushrooms sprouting out of the ground. In the centre of the village was a pond surrounded by torches. Link recognised the Statue of the Goddess, lovingly cared for as evidenced by the protective apron hung round her neck.

“Ho, Sir Knight!”

Link turned to see the two guards Princess Zelda had greeted earlier, Wan and Kento, approaching him. They carried bows and a throwing spear — ranged weapons that Link thought unusual for the role of a personal guard. The taller of the two, Wan, seemed to understand this and chuckled.

“We have been tasked to provide meat for the feast tonight,” he explained. “Right when our shift ended, but I don’t mind. Hunting’s good sport. Have you any experience? Another bow would be plenty useful.”

When Princess Zelda finally emerged from Impa’s house some two hours later, she was in time to witness Link helping Wan and Kento carry the bodies of the three deer and a boar they had managed to shoot down up in the woods.

Kento raised his bundles happily. “Fresh venison for the feast tonight, Princess. They’ll make some quality meat-stuffed pumpkins!”

“Your knight is a pretty good shot,” Wan added.

Link was still balancing the poles of trussed-up deer on his shoulders, so he was unable to join her. She fell into step with him instead as they walked towards the cooking pits. “You’re becoming quite the helping hand. Keep it up, and that will be your reputation: the knight who can’t say no.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not. I meant that in a positive way. But remember, you’re my knight first.”

“It’s impossible to forget.”

“Good.”

The Sheikah insisted that they both were guests of honour for the feast that night. So Link dropped off the meat and sat with Princess Zelda at the wooden benches placed around tables. They were on a deck beside the lake where the waterfalls tumbled into. Princess Zelda hummed at the fireflies that hovered around the plum trees looking like tiny, hesitant stars. She was so very happy here.

If she was happy, so was he. Though Link was forced to admit that the princess’s well-being wasn’t the only exceptional thing about Kakariko Village… when the Sheikah promised a feast, they were true to their word. He was almost overwhelmed at the humble but hearty offerings of food: pots of vegetable cream soup brimming with carrot chunks, rice balls packed with mushrooms and herbs, and the sticky baked apples glistening with honey and butter for dessert. But Link took Kento’s excellent advice and focused his efforts on the prime meat-stuffed pumpkins. The gamey flavour of venison mixed with sweet, soft pumpkin was a combination he could have only dreamed up, and even as he started on his third bowl of the night, Link still wasn’t sure if he was still only dreaming of such delicious bliss.

Princess Zelda watched him in fascination. “How can you consume this much food?” He shrugged. “I mean, where does it even go? Pardon me, but to be frank — you’re not exactly the largest of builds.”

“I guess I use up my energy quickly.”

A thoughtful look stole over her face. “I see. Yes, that makes sense. As a man of action, it’s only natural that you end up burning through your reserves at a quicker pace than others.” She took out her field journal and began to scribble.

“Are you… taking notes on me?”

“Why not? It’s wise to keep track of everything you learn. I’ve never interviewed a soldier before.” She turned to a fresh page and pressed down the spine. “Alright, then. Tell me all about a day in the life of a royal castle guard.”

He would have rather concentrated on his food, but between bites, Link relayed his duties and routine to the princess. She didn’t interrupt him much, her hand sliding across the pages and producing messy lines of script. Soon, he found himself having to explain his habit of running along the castle parapets every sunrise and sunset. That was difficult.

“None of the other guards do this?” He shook his head. “What do they think of you, then?”

“They think I’m crazy.” Link scraped his spoon against the empty hollow of the pumpkin. “Or that I’m trying to be better than them. Which is rather stupid, because there aren’t any ranks in the guard. There’s no room for ego. Everyone has the same duty, to protect the castle.”

“Your father is Captain, however.”

“Exactly. I grew up around soldiers. It’s not the life for anyone searching for fame or comfort. My father was promoted because he protected people and kept rogues in line. He accepted because it gave him a better chance to keep doing that job well.”

“Then you must admit, it only seems logical to others that the Captain’s influence has directly affected your standing in the guard. It’s a great advantage to have such a competent role model and guidance growing up.”

“It is and it isn’t.” Link almost stabbed the pumpkin rind. “Sure, I have the privilege of being the Captain’s son. It doesn’t make me different than any of them, though. He didn’t let me cut corners. I went through the same trials as they did. I almost have to do things like extra training to prove that there’s no nepotism at play. He knows this too. He’d hardly look at me before. And now with all of this—” Link gestured to the Master Sword, leaning against the wooden fence behind them. The gold trimmings gleamed under the lantern light. “It’s even worse. Champion, Hero, Captain – I’m technically the Captain of your personal guard, but what guard? It’s just me – for some reason, people assume that adding all these titles changes what you do, but it doesn’t. In the end, you’re still a protector… whether it’s one person or the entire country, it doesn’t really matter. But people are going to talk, and you can’t stop them.”

He had to stop there. Talking this much always left him out of breath, which was very uncomfortable. Princess Zelda had gone quiet. Her pencil lay still and untouched on the table.

“Is that why you don’t like talking to anyone about it?”

He looked at her, but there wasn’t a trace of irony in her gaze. “Yes.”

“Do you resent your father for raising you this way?”

He paused to think about it. “No. He didn’t have a choice, either. And I turned out to be good at it. So it worked out for everybody.”

She looked down at her feet. Link ate his final scoop of pumpkin before discarding the rind. When Princess Zelda spoke again, her voice was very small. “I agree. He’s trained you very well.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry that you don’t have many friends in the royal guard,” she said. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

Link thought of Leigh and Arrin. “I do have friends.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

They sat at their table in silence for a while. Link watched families of Sheikah sharing plates or tending to the smaller children’s spills and messes. Everyone was calm and unhurried. He knew there were other Sheikah keeping a lookout up in the cliffs, ready with their bows and swords if anything were to threaten the village. That was the only reason they could enjoy this feast in peace.

Princess Zelda got up and returned with dessert for the both of them. Link nodded his thanks and reached for the honeyed apple.

“There was something you said before.” The princess hesitated. “That you had no other family except for him. Why is that? Do you know?”

“My grandparents died before I turned two, else I would have stayed with them.”

“What about your mother?”

“Don’t have one.”

Her brow creased in confusion, so he had to explain more. “My father spent his youth stationed at a lot of different places in Hyrule. At some point, after he transferred to Castle Town, a baby was delivered to his barracks… which was, um, me.”

He already knew what question was coming before she even asked it. “How could he be sure…?”

Link gestured to his face with his fork. She smiled a little, understanding. It wasn’t a very long story, but it was always awkward to tell. The princess watched him dip each slice of his apple in the honey-butter mixture. When he’d finished them, she was still staring, but looking much less determined to wring any more personal information out of him.

“My mother died when I was six,” she said suddenly. Link almost choked. She bent her head and began picking aimlessly at the fallen crumbs in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She half-smiled. “I’m not saying that I understand your life. That’s simply impossible. But it is something we have in common.”

Of course, Link had known about the late Queen, but this was the first time in many years that he’d considered the fact in relation to the princess. And with everything he’d witnessed between her and the King… he felt a pang of sympathy for her as she wiped her mouth. In comparison, perhaps being motherless from the start was better, since it didn’t bother him. Mipha was probably the closest thing he had to a mother figure. It was a bizarre comparison, but held some weight - nobody else scolded, defended, and encouraged him like she did. He said as much to the princess, who was taken aback for a moment. She considered the notion, then laughed. “To think I’ve had a Zora prince in my employ this entire time!”

“We Zora do not hold such vulgar ideas of employment like you Hylians…”

She laughed again, and Link felt good.

Princess Zelda picked up her field journal. She had only written half a page of notes. It seemed like she was going to close the book and put it away, but a line caught her attention and she gasped.

“Wait!” She whirled around and stared daggers at him. “That’s YOU!”

He was confused. The princess leaned closer, finger pointed accusingly.

“That royal guard who always makes a noise at 3 in the morning. Climbing the wall for some unfathomable reason. Goddesses,” she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Do you have any idea how loud a single loose stone can be? It’s like an avalanche in the dead of night. I understand that running around all alone is important to you, but please keep in mind that some of us prefer sleeping.”

She looked so genuinely offended that he couldn’t stop himself. Link started to laugh, and after a few moments of surprise, the princess joined in with her giggles.

“Snappity Snap! If it ain’t the kids of legend.”

Link was finally able to regain his composure as Princess Zelda turned her attention elsewhere. “Purah!”

Sure enough, Hyrule’s head researcher was standing right behind them, one hand on her hip and a platter of rice balls in the other. She plopped down on the opposite bench, blinking at Link and the princess through her ridiculously round spectacles.

“I got here just thirty minutes ago,” she said before taking a big chomp out of her rice ball. “At first, it was so surprisingly sweet to discover my dear sister had whipped up a feast to celebrate my return, until I heard that two young upstarts from Hyrule Castle had taken all the glory instead… but what can you do, right?”

Princess Zelda couldn’t keep still. “But why are you here? Did something happen in the lab?”

“No, no, everything’s fine. Robbie’s still there, holding down the fort. This is a personal, but not any less exciting, venture.” Purah picked up a second rice ball. “We received a very interesting proposition from one of the court bigwigs. One of the nobles wants us to start a new Ancient Tech Lab away from Castle Town and in one of the provinces. Says that we can’t have all our eggs in one basket. I had to admit, that’s a good point.”

“Is it Lady Vander? She’s expressed the most support for using ancient technology. I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that she made such a generous donation.”

“I haven’t the foggiest. Doesn’t matter to me from whence the rupees come, just fork 'em over! Anyway, we’ve scoured the continent and discovered large amounts of ancient energy in the Necluda and Akkala regions. I prefer Necluda; it’s much closer to home. There’s a good source located by this little farming settlement called Hateno, so that’s where I’m headed first thing in the morning.” Purah tilted her head. “Say, you kids want to come along and participate in the great founding? We’re making history, here. In one hundred years, it’ll have supplanted the Royal Tech Lab as the seat of knowledge in all of Hyrule. Mark my words.”

Princess Zelda clapped her hands in joy. “Yes, yes, we’ll definitely join you! I can’t wait!”

The following morning, a small caravan of Sheikah researchers made their way out of Kakariko Village. Link breathed in the cool fog as he bid farewell to the hidden town in the hills. He walked beside the mule-drawn wagons laden with boxes of books, tools, and the heavy Guidance Stone padded with straw and lashed down to the planks. Purah and Princess Zelda walked along ahead, heads bent together over the Sheikah Slate. He could hear Purah’s high pitched exclamations over the images the princess had taken on their travels.

“We’ve found another collection in the records that hint at more runes we might be able to unlock on the Sheikah Slate,” she managed to tell the princess between the squeak of the wheels. “That’ll be the first line of business when we unpack in Hateno!”

With the slow but necessary addition of the wagons, Link and Princess Zelda chose not to take their horses from Dueling Peaks Stable. It was beautiful weather for a meandering journey across the plains of Necluda. The wind ruffled the grass as they trotted past the farms and ranches spanning the countryside, the big empty expanses assuring them of the peace in the kingdom.

It wasn’t long until they reached Fort Hateno. It was a simple but crucial structure: a sturdy stone wall dividing the province into its east and west portions, protecting the resource-rich farmland and forests. There was only a small garrison defending it, but they seemed attentive and earnest as their captain saluted Princess Zelda.

“Honoured to host you here in Hateno, Princess,” he said. “We do our best to keep out any unwanted vermin, but I regret to tell you that the roads are still infested with monsters. Do be careful as you travel. In fact, I’m more than happy to assign some of my men to escort you if necessary.”

“No thank you,” she said sweetly. “Your roles here are too important. And, we have the Hero of Hyrule.” She indicated Link, who immediately wished that he’d at least wiped his boots.

The captain’s eyes did the usual flicker to Link’s face, then widening at the royal blue Champion’s tunic, and finally bulging slightly as they settled on the Master Sword’s hilt peeking out from behind his shoulder. He saluted them once again, almost reverently, as they passed on through. Link caught up to the princess while they walked through the wood.

“Told you about the titles,” he muttered to her. She shrugged nonchalantly back at him, faint shadows of fluttering leaves dancing over her face.

Despite the captain’s warnings, the rest of their route was calm. Link supposed that the village they were headed to was named for the fort itself, probably because it provided most resources for the garrison posted there. After a few more uneventful hours, they finally saw signs of the settlement as they hiked up a sloping trail between the rocky ridges that dotted the area.

A stone and wood entryway marked the entrance to Hateno Village. A man wearing a wide-brimmed hat had been leaning very casually against one of the poles when they approached. He didn’t stand up or reach for his nearby pitchfork until the wagons were already rumbling over the cobblestones. “Whuh? Who are you? Strangers to the town!” He eyed the Sheikah’s robes and flat hats suspiciously, before backing away from the Master Sword’s gleam in the midday sun.

Purah groaned, digging in her pockets. “Excuse me? Do we look like the Yiga? We have the sword that seals the darkness, for the love of Nayru. Here,” she said, thrusting a piece of paper at him. “This is a deed, stamped and official, to the old lookout tower at the top of this town. It’s to be renovated into a first class research lab that will turn this little podunk village into a bastion of science for all of Hyrule. And you can’t stop us!”

“We-ell…” The farmer scratched his chin. “I guess you look close enough to Hylians, and that’s who we are. Sorry for getting all worked up. Come on in.”

“Don’t look like Hylians?” Princess Zelda whispered to Link. “Did he even see us?”

“I’m a Zora prince,” he reminded her. He grinned when she pushed his arm and flounced up to join Purah at the front.

Although Purah might have had a few disparaging things to say about Hateno Village, Link found himself liking the town immensely. It was a quiet but lively place. Women gathered in groups of twos and threes beside the general store, pausing in their gossipy conversations to stare at the newcomers trundling by. The buildings were large structures with stone foundations, red shingled roofs and whitewashed walls. Children hopped down from the stoops to chase each other over bridges spanning narrow streams and past animal stalls housing placid mules. As the cobbled path curved up the hill, Link could see beyond the homes to fields of golden rice and a meadow where oxen grazed. A few windmills turned slowly, their square canvas vanes looking like flat rotating clouds in the sky.

By the time they reached the old tower, the sun was very high above them. Purah seized command and began to direct her research team in unloading their goods, all the while listing off what needed to be done to make her dream state-of-the-art lab a reality.

“Someone grab that broom. Get this place spick’n span before we start moving all the books in! I won’t have silverfish at my notes! Seriously, why didn’t we order some furniture so it’d arrive by the time we got here? You! Go down to the village and find a carpenter, stat. That whole wall will be bookshelves, and we need table space for the experiments. Now for some personal touches. Where’s my froggy? Aha!” Purah hefted a familiar stone statue out of a box, identical to those Link had seen guarding the homes in Kakariko Village. She dusted off its head and produced a pair of red rimmed spectacles just like hers, placing them on the frog's nose. “Perfect.”

She stood up, looking very pleased. Her team was scurrying about, unloading the wagons and doing their best to fulfill her dictations. “Excellent, the place came with a furnace already. But we can’t do diddly squat with our Guidance Stone until it’s lit. That’s gonna be your job, Linky. Can I call you Linky? I’m going to. Get me some of that blue flame from the ancient well on the side of town. Can’t miss it. Okay then, Linky. I’m counting on you for that blue flame!”

Purah first shoved a torch into his hands, then nearly shoved him off the hillside. Link looked back and saw Princess Zelda perched on a boulder in the grass, an open box of documents at her feet and her nose in the papers. Purah folded her arms and stared at him until he turned around and took off down the path.

Fetching a flame shouldn’t have been difficult at all. Link could see the bright blue light from well up the hill, and the farmers had showed no problems with him jumping fences and cutting through fields to get there. It was returning with the flame that had posed a challenge. Link supposed the regular bouts of rain was a boon to the farmers in Necluda, but the first time it doused his torch, he had already made it all the way back to the dairy ranch halfway up the hill. Returning all the way to the source was a pain, but he quickly learned to light the stone lanterns on the path so he wouldn’t have to backtrack again. When Link finally managed to light the new lab’s furnace, it was three hours later and he was ready to be dry.

The interior of the lab was already beginning to shape up. Priorities in order, the Sheikah had carefully set up the Guidance Stone, but otherwise had simply crammed all their belongings into the space to protect their papers from the rain. Simple wooden stools had been borrowed for rudimentary seating, but Princess Zelda decided to remain perched on the floor where her chosen documents could be spread out in a circle around her. She looked up when Link walked in.

“We’ve found them! The missing runes on the Sheikah Slate!” Princess Zelda held up a sheaf of papers. “The Compendium and Sensor, designed to collect and store information about the whole land of Hyrule. This will change the fabric of field study forever. Imagine having an entire encyclopaedias of knowledge in one small device on your hip.”

“Hey, look over there!” Purah’s shout directed everyone’s attention to the Guidance Stone. The little grooves along its surface were lighting up, a bright blue akin to the flame spreading along the lines. “It’s starting to react. Princess, go and give me a nice SNAP to recover those runes!”

The Sheikah Slate spun and clicked into the Stone perfectly. The princess backed away as the pedestal glowed brightly. Sheikah Slate authenticated. Hyrule Compendium missing files confirmed. Starting repair. There was a appreciative sigh of admiration from all the Sheikah researchers as a drop of pure information flowed down from the top stone, collecting at its tip into a tear that splashed into the Slate.

Repair complete. Princess Zelda picked up the Slate, the neon glow of the screen reflected in her eyes. They widened and Link could see text flashing in them. “Oh! It’s amazing! There must be over three hundred entries in this compendium. It seems that most are missing, but we should be able to get them all back easily with the camera.”

Purah leaned in. “Let’s try it! Find a proper test subject.”

“I know just the person.” Link felt very apprehensive as a smirk spread across the princess’s face. “Link! Smile!”

“SNAP!” Purah yelled.

He simply grimaced and heard the clicking sound of the Slate. Princess Zelda’s voice was tinged with annoyance. “You could at least have tried to look somewhat enthusiastic.”

“Princess, wait…” Purah smudged a finger onto the screen and read out loud. “Hyrule Compendium number 198. Master Sword. The legendary sword that seals the darkness. Its blade gleams with a sacred luster that can oppose the Calamity. Only a hero chosen by the sword itself may wield it.”

They stared at each other for a few moments before erupting into shrieks of glee. Link pointedly covered his ears as Purah and the princess immediately began chattering a mile a minute, pressing their cheeks together as they mooned over the new function of the Slate.

“It also says here that once you have an item in the Compendium, you’ll be able to track it with the sensor,” Purah was saying.

“We must try it at once. Link!” Princess Zelda pulled down his hands. “We have the Master Sword’s entry, and you wield the Master Sword. Go down into the village and hide somewhere. I’ll use the sensor to track you.”

“Do I have to?”

“Obey your Commandant, Champion Knight.”

A minute later, he was trudging down the hill. Mud squelched under his boots. At least it had stopped raining. His step slowed when he got to the main street of the village. It was a bit busier now with people returning back to their homes to prepare for their suppers before an early turn-in. Several of them nodded or smiled to Link even though they did not know who he was. He really did like this place.

“Link!” He turned around and there she was, running towards him with the Slate in both hands. A loud beeping emanated from it at a steady rhythm. “Honestly, I’m disappointed. I said to hide. You’re not even trying, are you?”

“I just got here,” he protested. “You’re not giving me enough time.”

She harrumphed. “Fine, fine. Forgive me for being excited.”

She sped back up the path, hair flying out from behind her. Link hastily familiarised himself with the village buildings. There were a few wooden platforms located behind some of the houses on the south side that functioned as piers stretching out into the local pond where the ducks swam. Somebody was using theirs to store several clay pots. Link did his best not to jostle or break any as he sat down behind them.

In no time at all, he heard that obnoxious beeping noise again. Princess Zelda peered over the pots and tsked at him. “Too easy! One last time. And put some real effort into it, please.”

“What do you want me to do? Go to the beach? Get a horse back to Kakariko Village?”

“Very funny. Surprise me! Be creative. Make this an actual challenge. Make me regret asking you to do this.”

He eyed her carefully, but she looked completely serious. “Understood.”

She smiled at him. “Good! You have one hour. And then it’s on.”

But when she disappeared, Link didn’t know what to do or where to go. The farms were too open and flat. He doubted the residents would allow a random stranger into their homes. He felt it was unfair to actually leave the village.

Link wandered away from the main street and began to investigate the dirt trails leading off them. He spotted a shrine sitting up on a ledge. That would be a terrible place, since the princess would notice it at once. Behind a cluster of trees was a wooden bridge. Across from it stood a small homestead where a simple farmhouse had been built with a skinny chimney rising from the very middle of the roof. He could see a few stalls for animals, and apple trees overlooking a small pond. Wildflowers grew rambly and sweet in the garden. Link stood at the end of the bridge and admired the scene. It was a very nice house.

While he contemplated it, the door creaked open. Two small eyes beneath short blond bangs peeked out at him. The little girl’s gaze moved over to the Master Sword, as usual.

“Hello,” Link said. The child simply stared.

“Aryll?” A woman appeared behind the girl. “Come back inside.”

She shot Link a curious look and he backed away, apologising for the intrusion. His shoulder bumped against rock. Link stared up at a sheer cliff face. He had nowhere to go… but up.

Well, the princess claimed she wanted a challenge. And although she might have been annoyed by his training routine, Link was now an excellent climber. He almost forgot his deal with her as his fingers searched for cracks to dig into, and his calf muscles pressed his toes into barely-there footholds. Link scrambled up onto a narrow rock formation high above Hateno Village. There was a taller mountain behind him too, but he felt that would take it too far.

Hylia was gracious and didn’t send a downpour upon his head as he waited for the princess to find him. Although there was nothing to do up here but look around, Link found that he was perfectly content doing just that. The Hateno residents moved around below him like miniatures. He watched flocks of birds rising from distant ponds. Lakes shimmered under the sunlight, and misty clouds rolled over the snow-capped peaks of mountains in the distance. Hyrule Kingdom, in the wild, was beautiful.

He still wasn’t bored of it after three hours, but he was beginning to feel worried. Princess Zelda would be very upset if he gave up and ended the game early, but there was no sign of her. Link had been watching the village carefully for that telltale flash of yellow hair, but it had never come. He didn’t know what to do.

Beep… beep… beep…

“Great Golden Goddesses, HOW did you get up there?”

Her voice pierced through the tranquil silence. Link leaned over his rock and saw her on a hiking trail at the base. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she hooked the Sheikah Slate back onto her belt and placed her palm against the rock face. “Look at this! It’s completely flat. Did you sprout wings and fly?”

“On your left, there’s a—”

“I see it! Wait. Let me do it myself.”

Link watched anxiously as the princess slowly, clumsily, and very painstakingly clawed her way up to him. At the edge, she started to slip but he grabbed her arms and pulled her up. Princess Zelda pushed her hair away from her sweat-streaked, flushed cheeks.

“I know, I told you to make me regret this,” she gasped, still trying to catch her breath. “And part of me does, I mean, who in their right mind does something like this?” She looked down onto the village. “But at the same time… who wouldn’t?”

Princess Zelda’s eyes, green as the fields that stretched out all around them, seemed to quiver as she smiled down upon her kingdom. Link felt his heart not just stop, but disappear altogether when she turned and set the full beam of that smile on him. The setting sun spun her yellow hair into gold. All words ceased to exist when he looked at her.

She looked at his dumbfounded and hopeless face and started to laugh. It broke the spell, just a little bit, and soon they were both giggling hysterically, suspended high up over the great rolling countryside and unreachable by duty, destiny, whatever you wanted to call it, for now.

Chapter Text

“There’s one! Oh, and another!”

The Sheikah Slate whirred and clicked as Zelda took picture after picture of the gorgeous flora around them. The day was perfect: the sky painted a red sparrow egg’s blue, the sun round and golden like the yolk.

Zelda spotted the bumpy purple bulb of an armoranth herb peeking out from the tall grass. “The flowers we have in Hyrule aren’t just beautiful,” she explained to Link. “They’re also quite useful as ingredients for a variety of things.” She raised the Slate again and smiled when the Compendium alerted them to a new entry. This tough medicinal plant cannot be broken, but it can be cooked. Its durable yet flexible fibers are excellent for digestion and strengthening the immune system when cooked into a dish.

Zelda tugged on the stem. The Compendium was not exaggerating. Even with a few firm twists, the armoranth refused to budge. Eventually, Link had to slice it off with a knife, and they were finally able to collect the flower for themselves.

They were in the fields of Hyrule Ridge, just north of the Royal Ancient Tech Lab. Zelda ignored the grey silhouette of the castle across the moat. She could even see her tower from here. This trip had been the best one yet. From their joint triumphs in Zora’s Domain (Link against the lynel and she against the council), a restful night in Kakariko Village, and the accomplishment of founding a new Tech Lab, the highlights kept reaching new heights.

“I wish we were still in Hateno.” She couldn’t resist saying this out loud.

Link had probably heard her say these words at least a half dozen times since they had left, but he was kind enough not to mention it. “I like that village,” he agreed.

He certainly did. The two weeks they’d stayed with Purah and her team had made a profound effect on Link. Though Zelda had spent most of her time studying with the Sheikah and helping them get the lab fully functional, her knight had become enamoured by the region and its surroundings. He often volunteered for the tasks that would have taken him over to the farms, into the woods, across the lakes and even down to the beach just for that chance at a solitary stroll. This was how Zelda learned that Link liked to do many things by himself, but he would usually bring something back to share with them. It was a very considerate trait.

One morning, he’d proudly handed her a surprise he claimed to have made in the village, wrapped in wax paper. It was a baked apple coated with courser bee honey and goat butter.

“Who taught you to cook?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Nobody. I just wanted to see if I could recreate what we had in Kakariko Village.”

“On taste alone?”

He nodded. She took a bite. The apple had been roasted to perfection, the flesh tender but still packing a faint crunch, filling her mouth with that familiar tart taste heightened by the salt in the butter and creating a contrast with the sweetness of the honey.

“It’s really good,” she said. Link had been so pleased, he didn’t even complain when Purah gave him a long list of new errands to fulfill: assisting the carpenters in hauling wood for new bookshelves up the hill, collecting flint for smelting new machinery, and even hunting down a few monsters for elixir ingredients. Zelda watched him leave, the breeze rippling through his tunic and the sun shining off the Master Sword’s scabbard. Her heart swelled with affection at seeing him so content.

Purah threw a balled-up paper at her. “Excuuuuuse me, Princess. Kindly stop the longing glances at your hero. It’s very cute, but there’s plenty of work to do for you both! You can stare at each other later.”

“I… what…?”

Purah licked her finger and turned the page in her book. “I’m not judging you. In fact, I believe I called it from the very start. One does not become head researcher without some basic observation.”

Zelda lowered her head, red-faced. She had nothing to say in response. Even when she had eaten the apple down to its core, she was reluctant to throw it away. Some sweetness still lingered on her lips.

Both of them revelled in the freedom Hateno allowed. Zelda had loved throwing herself into the work of stocking and organising the new lab, all the while learning more and more about the Sheikah Slate through study and experiments. Nights had been spent with all of them sitting together round the large table commissioned especially for the lab, sharing supper and laughing in the light of the lanterns. Zelda had never felt less of a princess. She was simply one of the team, doing her fair share of unearthing new discoveries alongside her fellow researchers. Even Link was able to cast off his public identity — the Master Sword often lay quiet and mostly forgotten about against a wall during these warm and lively evenings.

Neither of them wanted to leave, but all good things came to an end. Zelda and Link had waved goodbye to Purah and her team at the village gate while the wary watchman with the straw hat stood back, bemused.

Zelda had chosen the most meandering path she could think of back to the castle, spanning all of Necluda and the better part of Hyrule Field, then suggesting a quick stop at the Royal Ancient Tech Lab at the last minute before she had to face the King. She dreaded the impending meeting she would have with him, where he would somehow, despite her efforts to evade such scrutiny, discern that she had not prayed to the Goddess in over fifteen days. And then there would be an Exchanging of Words. She glanced down at the flowers captured in her Slate and realised, with a sting of regret, that she should have used it to save more memories of their happy days in Hateno.

Zelda's heart skipped a beat when she spied something unusual in the picture. She lowered the Slate and there it was, half-camouflaged in the waving grass and bright sunlight, but nonetheless there. Zelda felt a wave of emotion wash over her as she leaned down to inspect the flower. It was not very big, having sprouted two buds. One was still tightly closed, but the other had unfurled long petals of pure white that faded into a rich sky blue.

“This one here is called the Silent Princess. It’s a rare, endangered species. Despite our efforts, we can’t get them to grow domestically yet. The Princess can only thrive out here, in the wild.” Zelda did not pluck the flower, drawing her hand away from the delicate blossoms. “All that we can hope is that the Princess will be strong enough to prosper on its own.”

She sat up. The last time she had seen more than one Silent Princess was about ten years ago. Even then, it was only a small bundle. Zelda pressed her fingers together as she recalled how they had sent the bouquet and its bearer into the earth.

Link had joined her kneeling down in the grass. Zelda felt his gaze on her. He was remarkably perceptive. She used to hate how nothing went unnoticed under his watch, but now she could appreciate it. Some thoughts were just difficult to voice out loud, so it was nice not to have to explain herself.

Suddenly, she gasped. “Oh! Is that what I think it is?” Zelda pounced, nearly slipping and falling into the soft soil. She held her quarry caged in her fingers, shuffling back to Link. “I don’t believe it, but I actually caught one. This delicacy is known to have very, very potent effects under the proper circumstances… ta da!”

Zelda opened her hands. A small frog blinked up at them with big yellow eyes. Its skin, moist from mucus and dappled with brown spots, was a bright green that helped it blend into the scenery.  Zelda held it up, feeling the soft, flat toes padding around her palm. “Research has shown that ingesting one of these can actually augment certain abilities.” An idea suddenly struck her. “We wouldn’t be in a controlled environment out here, but with your level of physical fitness, you’d be a perfect candidate for the study.”

Link went crimson. Zelda couldn’t fathom why, but she took advantage of his lack of protest. “Go on, taste it!”

He recoiled. “No.”

“That’s an order from your Commandant, Champion of Hyrule.”

He reluctantly held out his hands and allowed her to tip the confused creature into his palm. Knight and frog stared each other down. It was hard to say who was more apprehensive.

Zelda had actually been joking, but she was not one to pass up an exciting experiment. “Go on,” she repeated.

Link looked deeply disconcerted. “It’s alive.”

“Well, I don’t see any cooking pots. And this way, the material will be completely undiluted.” Zelda readied the Sheikah Slate. The camera identified the poor animal as a hot-footed frog, its little throat bulging nervously within Link’s curled fingers. “Down the hatch, Link.”

He made a face. The frog, sensing imminent doom, let out a loud croak before making a break for it. Link yelped as slimy feet launched from his fingers, then sprung off his face for a chance at freedom into the grass.

“Catch it!” Zelda flung the Sheikah Slate away at random, throwing herself forward into the direction of their escaped experiment. She heard Link cry out again as she accidentally stumbled over his knees, and they collided awkwardly before tumbling into separate clumps of grass. Zelda scrambled up, searching for the frog, but its desertion had been a success.

She looked over at Link, who was still prone on the ground. “Link?”

He groaned. Zelda crawled over and peered down at him. The Sheikah Slate was resting at a strange angle against his shoulder just beneath his chin. Link covered his eyes with the back of one hand. Zelda frowned and leaned closer in order to hear his next words clearly.

“You hit me.”

She winced. “Sorry.” That explained all the shouting. 

He didn’t move. Zelda tugged on his arm. “You’ve survived worse,” she said. “Come on.”

Link continued to lie there. She tried a different angle. “Now you’re just being dramatic. You could give Revali a run for his rupees, really.”

He pointed a finger at her. “How dare you.”

“Then get up!” She pulled hard on his sleeve, and Link lurched to a sitting position. He let her tilt his chin upward so she could examine the bruise that was slowly darkening along his jaw. “Ouch. Again, my apologies. But it’s nothing that time won’t heal.” Zelda sat back and ignored his grunt of irritation. “So, the summary of experiment number 31. Tester failed to follow through with the procedure, taking his time and caving to hesitation. This resulted in the subject being lost to the terrain, and the tester was dealt recompense in the form of injury.” She stood and placed her hands on her hips. "And you may write that down in your field journal."

"I don't have a field journal." He shrugged when she looked at him with an expression that suggested he'd just sprouted a third ear. "Why would I need one?"

"To remember things!"

"I remember things just fine without a field journal."

Zelda scoffed. "It's not only about yourself. Imagine that one hundred years from now, someone might be trying to piece together the events leading up to the Calamity—"

Link laughed. "Who in a hundred years would be interested in my life?"

"You're the sword's chosen, Link. Many people would!"

He shook his head at her and got to his feet as well. The sun was behind him, casting shadows from the tree branches to divide his face into sections. Zelda felt palpitations in her chest when the lines shifted with every moving muscle: he arched his eyebrows at her and the edges of his mouth twitched, like he still wanted to smile.

She quickly turned away. “Let's go see Robbie.”

The Royal Ancient Tech Lab was only a few minutes from where they were. They didn’t even bother mounting their horses, walking them to the nearby stalls before entering the building. As they entered the main workshop, they saw their friend taking off his goggles and wiping grease from his face with a stained rag. It made very little difference. Robbie blinked over at Zelda and Link, his face splitting into a streak of delight and dirt.

“Hm! Princess, Link! What perfect timing, just in time for lunch. Come, come!”

Link helped Robbie dole out fresh fried greens and poultry pilaf at the only empty workstation while Zelda filled the Sheikah mechanic on the goings-on in Hateno Village. Robbie chuckled and hm-ed a few times upon hearing about Purah’s antics with the Hateno residents and all the new upgrades to the Sheikah Slate. He suggested using his printer to compile a physical copy of the compendium once Zelda had gathered all the entries. This was a capital idea. Zelda imagined walking into a library and seeing her name in silver lettering along one of the spines lined up on the bookshelves.

“We’ve been plenty busy here, too,” Robbie added as he spooned up some more of the fragrant rice. “For one, the kids on the weaponry team have finally finished their designs for the new royal guard armaments. They’ll be eager to show you, Link. Personally, I thought the dark colour scheme was a bit of overkill, but it certainly looks stylish. I warned them not to forgo durability for flash, but we’ll just have to test the prototypes first. All this weapon making also got me thinking, hm. Why don’t we utilise the spare ancient parts lying around? Might be able to create some sort of new and effective ammunition based on the technology. I’ll take a crack at it once we’ve figured out the Guardians completely.” He paused and looked at Link curiously. “Something wrong?”

Link had been poking through all his vegetables instead of inhaling them like he normally did. “Just checking if someone might have put something I’d rather not have in my mouth under all these greens.”

Zelda’s exasperated sigh almost drowned out Robbie’s response. “Hm?”

Link explained what had transpired earlier. Robbie’s reaction was fairly calm, but outlandish experiments were clearly not unusual to a devoted researcher such as himself. “Ah, that probably would have given you little more than the taste of pond slime. You need to cook such materials before receiving the status-altering augmentations.”

Link pushed his plate away again. Robbie snorted with laughter. “A hot-footed frog is an ingredient for an elixir, not food! You’d probably create a dish most dubious to look at, let alone fit for consumption.”

Link looked accusingly at Zelda. “You should have done it for science,” she countered.

“I was going to, but look where it got me.” He indicated the bruise on his chin.

“And now you have a dashing mark of courage to show everyone what you’ve endured in the wild.”

It was Link’s turn to sigh, and she gave him her most sickeningly sweet smile. Robbie’s wild hair bounced a bit as he turned his head, squinting at them closely with raised eyebrows.

“Hm.” He cleared his throat. “Well, it’s been a good show seeing the two of you. We were all wondering what was keeping you away, Princess. Even the King himself came round to ask of your whereabouts.”

Zelda almost dropped her piece of radish. “He did?”

“Yes, just three days ago. Upon her return from Kakariko Village, Lady Impa informed him that you went with Dr. Purah to East Necluda and he was, hm, not particularly delighted to hear that. For some reason, the King's conclusion was to seek out the other Ancient Tech Lab and demand that you come back. I suggested that you might be scouting out other holy places in Hyrule, which placated him somewhat. But perhaps it’s best that you go home and see him.”

Robbie cleared the table. Zelda felt slightly panicked. If she went back to the castle now, her father’s ire would surely see through any excuse. There must be somewhere she could go just to say that she had done something related to training. Zelda’s fingertips pressed hard against the back of her hand.

Link was watching her. Zelda forced her hands to stop. She gripped the edge of the table and leaned towards him. “I don't think we should go back yet.”

“But Robbie said…”

“Robbie said he told my father that we could be in another holy place.”

“Where, then?”

Zelda closed her eyes and wracked her brain. She had already tried the Temple of Time. The Spring of Wisdom would still be inaccessible to her for a while yet. Zelda did not have fond memories of the Spring of Power. She hadn’t been back there in almost ten years. That left just one place… she looked up into Link’s clear blue eyes. The Master Sword shone in the beams of light pooling in from the large side windows.

“The Spring of Courage.”

While Link was outside readying the horses, Zelda composed a message to her father. She purposefully kept the contents brief and vague, ignoring the fact that they hadn't communicated in almost a month.

We are going to Faron to the Spring of Courage. I shall pray to the Goddess there, then return to the castle. All is going well in Lanayru and Necluda.

Such cold and clipped sentences, but Zelda didn’t know how else to say it. She left instructions for the message to be delivered, then left the lab. She and Link mounted their horses and galloped southward past bridges and through crossroads that would have led them home instead. It was a quiet, pensive ride. Zelda could hear her stallion’s breathing as they raced down the plains. The castle stared at her retreating back as she rode away from it. Link kept pace right behind her. Her knight didn’t object to the speed, dispatching of any enemies actually quick enough to be roused to their presence with well aimed arrows.

They managed to reach Outskirt Stable by nightfall, which was just as well since the horses would not be accompanying them into Faron. The next morning came cool and cloudy. Link had flipped up his hood, his face shrouded in shadow as they walked in the midst of the fog flowing off the Great Plateau and into their path.

“Have you been to this one before?” he asked her.

“Only once, but we didn’t stay for long. The most obvious choice would have been Wisdom, but I’m not allowed to go there yet. My father felt that the next logical step was the Spring of Power, as we are trying to unlock Hylia’s sealing power… but that proved fruitless as well. He didn’t think that Courage was all that necessary, because that’s the domain of the hero.” She looked over at him. The Master Sword swung gently from its scabbard hung along the straps on Link’s back. Perhaps its presence would change things this time.

South Hyrule Field was well populated by homesteads and garrisons, making their morning uneventful. Link purchased baked apples from a roadside vendor, sharing with Zelda. The cliffs of the Great Plateau loomed over them as they munched away.

“Yours are better,” she told him. The way his stride lengthened afterward was very endearing.

It was a pleasant surprise to be greeted by both Hylian and Zora knights at the East Post garrison. The soldiers insisted on sharing their midday meal with the princess, as simple as military food was. Zelda sat with Link at a table in the captain’s quarters, not able to get a word in as they were served and apologised to constantly. The men’s desire to please was appreciated, but the fuss and fervor made her feel more obtrusive than welcome.

Link seemed uncomfortable too, especially when a man over thrice his age performed an elaborate bow just for the Hylian Champion. He had tried to lean the Master Sword against his bench like usual, but the soldiers had snatched it away to hang up on a weapon mount. Their meal was fraught with infantrymen wandering in to gawk at it. Zelda could tell Link was eager to leave once they were done eating. He hadn’t even asked for seconds.

The day had been grey all morning, but it was only after they crossed Proxim Bridge that the clouds began to gather in earnest. They skirted Deya Village to hike the hillside in an attempt to beat the rain, but it caught up to them within the hour. The only thing nearby that provided cover was the shade of an enormous, gnarled old tree, typical of the lush and abundant jungles of Faron. But this one stood alone, overlooking the Hylia River and accompanied by a small rocky outcropping. Zelda hurried over and discovered two small statues already sheltering beneath it. Their weathered faces gazed intently at her. “I doubt this will let up anytime soon,” she said, sitting down beside them.

Link remained standing, though he flung off his soaked hood. There was another clink of metal when he slid the Master Sword’s scabbard from his back. Zelda blinked up at him. “Won’t you take a rest?”

“Can’t. Training.” Despite the dark skies, the Master Sword’s blade still gleamed as Link unsheathed it. Zelda leaned against the rock as Link prepared. His face, previously so calm and unhurried, now hardened into deep concentration. Zelda was captivated by the smooth, graceful rhythm of his routine while the rain pounded down around them. Link’s boots scuffed the grass, the hem of his tunic flapping with each spin, and the Master Sword sang as it stabbed and sliced the humid air around them.

He was very fastidious in his practice. Sometimes, Zelda had been tempted to return to the old days of resentment every time the sword flew through the air with such ease, but their conversation in Kakariko Village always reminded her that Link had worked just as hard as she did. Fate had simply chosen to award them with different results. She couldn’t fault him for that.

“You’ve really dedicated yourself to becoming a knight,” she said. “Such commitment to the training necessary to fulfill your goal is really quite admirable.”

Link glanced over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“I see now why you would be the chosen one.”

He stopped, lowering the sword and turning to stare at her. Zelda wasn’t sure where she was going with this. The rain hammered down, spilling through the trembling leaves of the tree and splashing down in puddles at Link’s feet. She pushed on, daring to show her emotions at last.

“What if, one day… you realised that you just weren’t meant to be a fighter? Yet the only thing people ever said was that you were born into a family of the royal guard. So no matter what you thought, you had to become a knight. If that was the only thing that you were ever told…” Zelda looked away. “I wonder, then, would you have chosen a different path?”

There was nothing but the noise of rainfall. Link stood still. Zelda’s hands twisted in her lap. Her own words echoed back to her, sounding sillier with each repetition. He had already said that he didn’t mind his upbringing. He had even noted how good at it he was. So perhaps he had never considered it.

She didn’t realise he had moved until the rustle of fabric came near her ears. Zelda looked over. Link had taken a seat beside her, arms on his knees. Heat from his exercises rolled off his body, thickening the humid air even more. He stared into the distance, though the showers obscured any kind of view. “How did you know people said that about me?”

She was caught off guard. "Oh! I..."

"And yes, I'll admit it's crossed my mind a few times."

She was so filled with relief that she interrupted before he could elaborate. “Really?”

Link shrugged. “I think everyone's thought about it, what would happen if they had a different life.”

Not as much as I do, Zelda thought. Link leaned back and folded his arms. "But I usually come to the same conclusion. I am what I am. It can't be changed, so there's no use wondering about what might have been, because we're here now."

This was not the answer she wanted. Zelda's shoulders slumped. She felt the rain seeping into her hair, a bead of cold running down her scalp.

Link didn't comment, if he noticed at all. "But if I must be the hero, I get to decide what that means. I am the hero, and the hero is me."

She must have looked completely confused, because he kept going. "Everyone has their own opinion on how you should be when you gain a title. Train every day. Fight your foe. Become a Knight. Take the sword. There's hundreds of orders and commands, and usually from people who have absolutely no idea what it's even like to be in your place. Be a Champion. Stop the Calamity."

For a fleeting moment, his voice had turned bitter and brittle. "This Kingdom's so obsessed with their heroes and princesses," he said. "It's frustrating." 

Zelda could only stare with wide eyes. "And they back it up with history books and prophesies. Back in the era of whatever, the hero did this. The princess said this... but they never think that nobody was telling them what to say or do. They just did."

Link shifted his legs, crossing them in front of him. "What else made them so heroic or wise? Not a sword or bloodline, or a checklist of requirements to fulfill... when destiny called the Hero of Time, he discovered that he wasn't what he thought he was. His desire to prove himself turned him into a doer of amazing feats and gained everyone's respect. We still talk about him now."

Link took in a deep breath before continuing. "The Hero of Twilight was the opposite. He grew up with treasured friends almost like family, and that devotion to protecting him led to saving two realms, not just the one. Hyrule didn't even exist when the Chosen Hero picked up his first sword. Then he ended up creating a legacy so powerful that it's lasted for thousands of years."

Zelda's eyes were watering. She hoped he couldn't see. "You really read that Historia."

He glanced over at her, kindness in his gaze. "Because I ended up with the princess who assigns homework."

"And in the same way, you'll get to decide what they'll think when they hear the name Zelda," he added. "They won't think of a figurehead in a gown sitting in a castle, but the girl who walked across the entire kingdom, over mountains and through forests and across deserts to make sure she understood her people."

She couldn't even see him anymore, but she could hear the smile in his voice as she wiped away her tears. 

"Writing down every little detail in a small library of field journals and forcing frogs down people's throats," Link said. Zelda let out a very unprincess-like snort through her tears. "You are the princess, the princess is you, they're not separate."

And she melted. It had nothing to do with the rain or humidity. It wasn’t about blond hair, blue eyes, scars and muscles and swords, or even relentless pursuit in the face of rejection. It was deep conversations in the rain, scrambling up a mountain of rock, and sitting quietly by a fountain while the sun rose. Meat-stuffed pumpkins and a missing family member, no matter how differently phrased. An inside joke about the Zora royal line. Experiments amongst the flowers. Sweet baked apples.

Zelda sniffed, then sighed. “The princess of Hyrule is supposed to be the one blessed with Wisdom, but I now feel like we should have traded places.”

“Sure.”

“What?” She could only stammer as Link suddenly picked up the Master Sword. Zelda hadn’t realised that it was such a heavy weapon until he dropped it into her open hands. Link patted her briskly on the shoulder as he stood up and began to walk away.

“Good luck sealing the darkness!” he called to her before disappearing over the ridge.

Zelda gaped at him, clutching the fabled blade until her senses finally recalibrated. “Wait! Get back here! That’s not what I meant!”

Link popped up at once, grinning like an idiotic bokoblin at a campfire roast. He laughed when Zelda mimed throwing the sword at him. She would have done it, but… it was a holy relic of historic importance. She handed it to him instead. Link accepted, briefly placing his fingers over hers. He was still smirking, the cad. Zelda turned away, still feeling the sting of embarrassment, though it was rapidly being overtaken by a stronger, warmer feeling.

"Alright, Hero. It's time for you to lend me your Courage. Let's go."

"Lead the way, Princess."

Chapter Text

Nothing happened at the Spring of Courage, just as Zelda should have expected.

After the deluge had let up, they had followed the shores of Lake Hylia to the end of the Farosh Hills before doubling back up to Damel Forest, where they were finally able to make their way towards the holy spring. The rainfall had brought all manner of creatures stirring in these rich, wild woods. The forest was filled with the constant low hum of insects while birds called to each other in the trees. Lizards hightailed it out of their way as they kept walking along the river, and butterflies scattered whenever Link pushed aside branches of mighty banana-laden palm.

When they arrived, Zelda heard Link let out a gasp. Glimpses of the ancient civilsation that had lived deep in this jungle had cropped up frequently along the way, but those crumbling ruins were nothing compared to what lay here. The lake had created a small canyon, upon whose walls the ancients had carefully carved out structures. Now many of their designs were faded and moss-covered, but the stone procession leading to the spring was still there. Zelda did not know whether the ancients had worshipped the Golden Goddesses, but clearly the powerful aura of Farore was felt by even them, and they had sought to build a magnificent entrance to the spring in the form of a snarling dragon.

They walked into the jaws of the serpent. A gust of wind curled out from its depths to greet them, brushing across their sweat-streaked scalps and sending a shiver down Zelda’s spine. Link turned away while she changed into her ceremonial dress.

The water was very cold, a relief from the hot, muggy jungle outside. Zelda waded towards the Statue of the Goddess, who looked little more than a shadow hiding at the back of the grotto. Perhaps the reason why this pilgrimage took Courage, Zelda thought as she folded her hands, was the lack of light. And there was even less of it as the day neared its end and Link stood in the entrance, his sword at the ready.

There was no need — for either sword nor prayers. Link held out a hand to steady her when she splashed out of the spring some three, four hours later. “Any…”

“No,” she said. She immediately regretted snapping at him, feeling terrible for cutting him off like that, but Link shut his mouth and waited for her to change back into her travel clothes without another word.

They returned to Deya Village for the night. It was already quite late, with the waning moon glowing down on the buildings. Deya Village was nestled in a rocky valley between Necluda and Faron, and as such was well populated and frequented by travellers. It wasn’t hard to find an inn still full of vivacity, light and chatter spilling out the windows. The clinking of mugs, stomping of shoes and the occasional raucous laughter from regular patrons helped cover their entrance. Zelda slid into a seat at a table by the wall with Link following behind her. She kept her silence while he devoured a few meat pies.

Why had she hoped for anything other than.. than nothing? She was a researcher, someone who collected evidence and watched it carefully for any patterns that would lead to a conclusion. She had been training for ten years. She had been to the Spring of Courage, the Spring of Power, and the Temple of Time for elaborate rituals on top of the daily prayers. So ten years of data… which added up to: nothing.

Nothing.

Zelda’s hands twisted in her lap. Already, the familiar feeling of panic rose in her chest, tightening her lungs. Link had paused, the last bites of pie frozen in his fingers. Zelda avoided his eyes and took out her field journal. Breathe. She was a scholar. She simply needed to step back and think through everything she knew about her dilemma.

Number one, she wrote with a shaking hand. To gain mastery of a skill or subject, a student had to practise. This was true of anything: academics, craftsmanship, even physical abilities such as swordsmanship. Link was proof of that.

Number two. But more than that, all students needed a teacher, an expert in the field to guide them. The last known wielder of the Goddess’s sealing power had passed on without any way of ensuring her successor could learn how to find and use them.

Three. Historically, only this power, wielded by the descendants of the Goddess, could be used to thwart the evils that plagued Hyrule along with the sword of the hero. Only those. But…

Four. The evidence gathered from their excavation of the ancient Sheikah relics showed that the Guardians and Divine Beasts had been absolutely integral to the Calamity’s previous defeat. So even if Zelda couldn’t unlock her powers, there were other ways she could help.

Zelda looked up at Link, who still hadn’t finished his food. He seemed to be waiting for her to speak first.

“I was thinking about my training,” she said. He nodded, finally putting the last of the pie in his mouth. “I wonder… if there’s actually a simple reason behind the lack of results.”

He nodded again, chewing slowly. “It might be because…” Zelda shrugged, knowing that her question would sound blasphemous. “Perhaps the power of Hylia and the Golden Goddesses have left our world. It simply isn’t here anymore.”

She knew that if it were anyone else, she would have been given a heart-stopping performance of outrage and horror. But Link simply blinked, swallowed, and said, “What makes you think that?”

Zelda explained it to him. Link listened. By the end, he still didn’t seem convinced. “But your third point admits that only the sealing powers can defeat the Calamity.”

She pointed behind him where the Master Sword lay in shadow against the wall. “We literally call it the sword that seals the darkness.”

“Would it be enough?”

“That’s why we have the Sheikah technology.” Zelda looked into Link’s doubtful face and felt frustration build up in her again. “Which you must agree, is a far more versatile and dependable medium to work with because anyone who studies enough can come to understand it. All you need is dedication to the craft, and you’ll eventually be given the means to use it as you please. A much better practice than whatever this is!”

A few heads turned. Zelda ducked her head, heart pounding painfully in her chest. She should have known better than to release her frustration out vocally, and especially in front of Link. He didn’t need any more of that.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It’s okay,” he said.

“I’m tired. I think I’ll retire for the night.” Zelda turned and quickly left before he could say anything else. Again, pangs of guilt knocked around inside her, but she hoped that Link would understand. This wasn't about him at all. And, they were friends now.

Lumpy mattresses and cotton quilts were no aid for insomnia. Zelda rolled around restlessly, listening to the buzzing of wildlife outside the window and the patter of patrons from beyond the door. Her anxiousness had taken proper hold by now, and she couldn’t shake the theory from her mind. What would happen if the powers were really gone? Would she be free from her burdens, or would it simply weigh heavier on her soul? The princess who lost the Goddess. A note for the history books for sure, if at all Hyrule had a history after the Calamity.

Zelda didn’t know when she finally drifted off into sleep, but some point after midnight, a knock on her headboard jolted her awake.

“Princess?” Link’s voice was so soft, it was nearly a whisper. His figure was nothing more but a shadow through the curtains. “Sorry to scare you. But—” A hand stole through and gestured for her to follow. “—you need to see this.”

He didn’t sound worried, but his tone was so urgent that Zelda felt a wave of panic as she quickly dressed and grabbed her things. The Sheikah Slate was the last, carefully secured to her belt.

Link was waiting. Once they were out of the inn, he suddenly grabbed her hand and began to pull her along the paths. Zelda quelled her shock at this, grateful that the buildings they rushed past were dark and quiet. He lead her to a side alley that ended at the hollow trunk of an enormous tree, so large that they both could easily fit through it. And that was exactly what happened: Link began hiking up the inside of the log without breaking stride, and Zelda hurried to keep up, trying to hide her gasps from the effort.

It was a steep climb, but when she clambered out of the top, Zelda realised that they were not far from where they had sheltered from the storm the afternoon before. Link led her to the edge of the hill. Zelda could see the dark expanse of Lake Hylia, the continent’s largest enclosed body of water. The great bridge spanning it was just visible thanks to the small lanterns placed in each recess. But that wasn’t what Link meant to show her.

The water’s surface glowed as ripples gave way to a single, curved horn, which was followed by the scaly head it was attached to. Zelda’s heart stopped as the slender form of a dragon glided out of the water, climbing the sky like it was no effort at all. It was pale gold and green, its body radiating light and energy. Globes of electricity sparked from the spikes on its back as the dragon continued to circle the heavens above the lake. Strong gusts of wind whipped their faces as the glorious creature passed near them.

Neither one of them said anything as they watched the dragon dive gracefully into the water, the light disappearing for a moment before its head rose from the depths again. It was spellbinding. Magic beyond their realm.

The dragon captivated them for at least an hour before Zelda thought to pull out the Sheikah Slate. She heard Link snort a little, and looked over. He was watching her, not the dragon. “Really?”

Zelda aimed the camera. When she was finally able to capture the dragon’s majesty in picture form, the Compedium alerted her to a new entry.

A spirit of lightning has taken the form of this giant dragon. Making its home in the Faron region, it's said to have served the Spring of Courage since ancient times. The electricity that coats its body makes it dangerous to get near, but Farosh bears no ill will toward people.

“Farosh…” she whispered. “Farore, the goddess of courage?”

At her words, the celestial beast turned sharply in its flight, weaving over the bridge towards them. Zelda felt lightheaded as the dragon stared at her with its gleaming, iridescent eyes.

Link’s voice was very, very quiet. "I think this means the Goddesses are still here with us," he said.

Zelda looked at Farosh. Her theory had crumbled and burst like the air around the great dragon, its electric energy so close that she could hear it snap and feel the static crackling over her skin. She had never felt more at peace knowing that she was wrong in her entire life.

But it also meant that she really had no choice. Zelda had to find a way to awaken her powers before it was too late.

They watched Farosh until dawn. As day broke over Hyrule, Farosh twisted its body upward instead. The clouds separated, forming a dark portal in the sky as Farore’s dragon flew up to it, the glow of its golden body fading as the growing light of the sun took over. Zelda sighed a wordless goodbye as Farosh disappeared.

Link turned to her. “Are you ready?”

Zelda turned to the north, looking beyond the horizon. The dark silhouette of the castle stood in the distance, staring her down. “Yes. Let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

Blessed by Farosh’s presence, the day began most auspiciously for Zelda. With such an early start, their arrival at Riverside Stable coincided with breakfast. Link had been quite happy to partake of a hearty and filling meal before they rode away. They passed patchwork farms and ranches. She could see workers in the fields, tilling the soil or leading oxen to pasture. These were her people. They depended on her to lead them towards justice and peace.

They made it to the castle before it was even midday. To Zelda’s surprise, Impa greeted them instead of the King or the Captain. She had a smile for the princess, and even more good news.

“Your fathers have been away,” she explained to both Zelda and Link. “With the impending approach of the Calamity, they thought it wise to personally check the maintenance of the defenses around the Kingdom. I believe they might have hoped to catch you in Hateno.” Impa arched an eyebrow at them. “So it’s rather relieving to see that the prodigal children have returned on their own accord.”

“Is that how they see us?” Zelda asked.

Impa opened her hands in a noncommittal gesture. “The King is a busy man, so all he can do is entrust the safety of his daughter to her appointed knight, and the safety of the kingdom to his heir. And with no word from either of them, it’s only natural that he worries.”

Zelda and Link exchanged guilty glances. “Well, I’m here now.”

“Yes, and we are very glad for it.” Impa bowed. “There is much for you to do, Princess.”

Zelda agreed. Despite reassurances from both Link and Farosh concerning her divine duties, she still wanted to be involved with the advancement of the ancient technology. Hylia’s powers needed awakening, but so did the Guardians. The Sheikah were making groundbreaking discoveries in their work and she refused to be left behind. Zelda dragged Link from his lunch down to the excavation sites just in time to see that the researchers had decided to move some of their subjects to the courtyard.

“We’ve achieved basic mobility,” one of them told her as they followed the bits and pieces of Guardian slowly making their way out of the castle. The narrow corridors made it so they had to be taken apart before being reassembled outside. “But the real test will be on uneven terrain. Let’s see if the weight can handle other surfaces. But what I’d like to see is…” The researcher lifted the end of the leg he carried and waggled it around, showing Zelda how easily the coils bent. “Could they do even better? With such versatility, we may even be able to programme these machines to scale walls and climb mountains!”

“That’s amazing!” Zelda watched the researcher readjust the claws of the Guardian. “Perhaps you could lend me one for my tower. It is a tad tall, but if you say—”

“No,” Link called out from behind them. He was carrying the other end of the leg, bearing an expression that could curdle milk. “That’s not happening.”

Even with all that time working in an Ancient Tech Lab, Link still didn’t like Guardians. Even now, he dumped the leg unceremoniously onto the ground and folded his arms, warily watching the researchers busy themselves with reconstruction.

“I wasn’t being serious,” Zelda said, tweaking his elbow. He refused to respond. “I mean, where would I even put it?”

“We would never dream of replacing Hyrule’s Champion,” the researcher agreed. “But for your question, Princess… As you can see, we are free to remove certain appendages however we please. So if your highness so wished, we could affix a Guardian to say, a turret in your tower, and that’s a built-in defense mechanism right over your door!”

Zelda thought this was brilliant. “Could you do the same for other places in the castle? Or say, even beyond Castle Town and in other areas of Hyrule?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” Zelda pulled on Link’s arm. He muttered something inaudible beneath his breath. “I’ll draw up a proposal to situate these Guardians to do that very thing, guard the kingdom.”

Once they were back in the quiet corridors of the castle, Link spoke. “Princess, you trust the Guardians too much.”

“They’re necessary for the Calamity effort.” Their footsteps were muffled by the soft carpet. “What makes you so distrustful of them?”

Link frowned. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling. They’re machines. Anyone could control them.”

“How is that different from the Divine Beasts?”

“The Divine Beasts can only be piloted by Champions who’ve passed trials.”

“And the Sheikah Slate?” Zelda waved it under his nose.

“That can’t be weaponised.”

“I beg to differ,” she reminded him, pointing it at his chin. The bruise was well on its way to healing, looking little more than a yellow smudge at this point. But Link still flinched, then smiled while she laughed.

The library was empty when they reached it. With the walls completely covered in shelving, most of the light came from chandeliers suspended from pillars that supported the tall, vaulted ceiling. A few stained glass circles, nestled in the crook of the arches above, shone small pools of colour on the tile floor. However, Zelda had no qualms in breaking the tranquility, keeping up a steady stream of consciousness as she paced the stacks.

“We want a map,” she said, tugging an atlas out from one shelf. “Not just of the kingdom, but the entire continent. We must continue to give assistance to our allies. When Hyrule promises aid, it will deliver. So that being said, we need to consider the elevation and climates. Metal-based machinery is prone to buckle or lose function in certain pressures or temperatures.” Zelda continued wandering, picking books freely without stopping. “I would imagine, for example, that it would be very difficult to get a Guardian out into Gerudo. The sand would get into its gears and create a multitude of problems. And then you’ll need to consider colder areas like Tabantha Village, where freezing will be the main issue, and that’s not even thinking of the rust from Faron and its beaches…” Zelda finally paused at the end of the shelves. She blinked at the three slim almanacs on the named provinces in her hands. Surely she’d found more than this…?

She heard a cough. Zelda turned to see Link patiently waiting behind the very, very tall stack of books he was carrying. “Oh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said.

Zelda looked over the section they were in. “Here,” she said, choosing one more. “That one’s for you.”

He looked down at the newest addition to the pile in his arms. “Hyrulean Cuisine,” he read out loud. “A Proper Guide to Cuts and Cookery. Are you mocking me, Princess?”

“No,” she said, and meant it. “I genuinely believe you have a talent for this.”

He almost dropped the books. Zelda pretended not to notice as they headed to one of the tables. She took up most of it with her books and the cartography tools found in a cabinet. Link sat down at one corner while she busied herself with the plan, marking down relevant pages in every volume and taking notes before starting on her sketch. That took the better part of an hour, and when she looked up at him again, Link was totally engrossed in the cookbook. She smiled to herself.

“Princess Zelda!”

The sound shattered the library’s silence. Zelda dropped her pen, and ink blotted across the Akkala highlands. Link sat up, startled. Utano waved at her from the balcony. He was still wearing the traditional topknot of his tribe, but influences from Hyrulean nobility were evident. The clothes beneath his white Sheikah robe was the deep royal blue of the court, and a gold belt clinked softly round his waist as he bounded down to greet her.

“The goddess-blood princess, a vision of light,” he sang to her with a hand outstretched. The timbre of his fine baritone echoed throughout the great hall. “She appears in each age to fight the good fight.”

Zelda clapped, alone. “It’s so good not to just see, but hear you again, Utano.”

“Welcome home, dear princess,” he said, taking her hand and bowing. “The Kingdom is beautified again by your presence.”

“I never left the Kingdom,” she explained. “After the trip to Lanayru, I spent some time in Necluda and northern Faron.”

Nothing dampened Utano’s enthusiasm. “Necluda! As much as I love it here, there is no song so irresistible than the call of home. I take it that you sheltered with Lady Impa during your stay at Kakariko Village? Had I known you would be there, I would have volunteered for even the most menial of jobs on the journey.”

Zelda shook her head, but she was smiling. “That would have been most admirable, seeing that we were in Kakariko Village for all of one day. I accompanied Purah to her new tech lab in Hateno Village.”

“Hateno Village?” Utano tilted his head and frowned. “I’ve never heard of it. Must be some backwoods place. But that doesn’t matter,” he said grandly, “You’re back here where you belong! In the heart of Hyrule, leading our kingdom to victory.”

That reminded Zelda of her unfinished task. “Actually, I have been working on a strategy for the excavated Guardians. I was thinking that we should use them to protect not just the castle, but the citizens as well.”

“My princess is wise and kind, as always.” Utano offered his arm. “But even our wisest need rest. Please join me in the gardens for a walk. I’ve always found that nature is refreshing for the soul and inspiring for the imagination.”

Zelda looked over at Link. It didn’t feel right to simply abandon him. “Well,” she started, feeling the stares from both men upon her. “Before anything else, I should put this project away. Would you assist me in bringing it back to my study?”

He would have loved nothing more, Utano assured her. He scooped up the same almanacs that Zelda had found last while she rolled up the map. Link slowly piled the rest of the books. It would be a heavy burden to bear, especially all the way up to her tower. Zelda reached over and took a few of them. Their eyes met, and she felt his gratitude.

Utano kept her ear filled with castle gossip while they walked down corridors and up winding staircases. Zelda often had to hold him back to wait for Link. At her bedroom door, she finally managed to shake off her well-meaning, but garrulous friend by feigning fatigue. Utano relented, but insisted on seeing her later.

“My song for you is nearly finished,” he said. “I shall play it for you come the evening.”

“Don’t you want to finish it, first?”

He smiled at her, his dark eyes roving over her face. “I think it will be by then. Motivation has finally come.”

Zelda blushed and bid him farewell. She closed the door and turned to see Link glaring at it. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said.

He was still forced to lug the library books up her spiral staircase and over to the study. Zelda did her best to help, holding doors open and suggesting multiple trips. Link refused, marching past her. She didn’t understand why he was so determined. Link wasn’t the performative type, and Hylia knew that he didn’t have to prove anything to her.

Once they had deposited it all into a rather untidy pile on her desk, Zelda and Link stepped back into the bright sunlight. The stone parapets were warm to the touch. She heard a familiar clinking sound and rushed over to look. One of the Guardians was whole again and ready for action, glowing fiery orange. Its head clicked to and fro at the sound of a Sheikah researcher’s call, spinning round and round until it locked in on him. The Guardian lifted its long legs, stiffly stabbing the soft soil of the garden with its claws as it followed the beckoning of its master’s fingers.

“Incredible,” Zelda breathed. They were at a point now where they could actually control them. At this current rate, they would soon know all they needed about the Guardians and the Divine Beasts. She turned to the doubtful Link proudly. “Should the Calamity ever show itself again, we’ll be well positioned to defend ourselves!”

“What are you doing out here, Zelda?”

Her throat closed up. Zelda turned and saw the King stepping out of the shadows. He was still wearing his dark brown traveller’s coat, but the triforce gleamed fiercely from the belt round his waist, and so did the ruby in his crown. Link knelt, as a royal knight must before his liege. But Zelda stood her ground. Soldiers flanked the doorway, blocking off any escape. So, the King’s first instinct after a long journey was to seek out his daughter and castigate her. Zelda’s fingers balled into a fist.

“I was accessing the results of the experiment with the Guardians,” she said rapidly. “The Sheikah have been able to restore full mobility to a great deal of the excavated finds, as well as develop different functions for each of them. If we can come up with a good strategy to situate them in key areas around the castle and kingdom, these pieces of ancient technology could be quite useful to the—”

“I know that.” The King cut her off. “They are essential to Hyrule’s future, and our research demands that we keep a close eye on them.”

He said our and we. It was the kingly idiom, of course, but Zelda knew that her father paid precious little attention to the research, preferring to allow Impa free reign over the process. Impa was wonderful, but Zelda felt that the royal family should have actual involvement. She tried to say this, but he continued.

“As the princess, you currently have a crucial, unfulfilled responsibility to your kingdom. So, let me ask you once more…”

Zelda steeled herself for the inevitable. Already, her cheeks were burning. She felt it all the way to her ears.

“When will you stop treating this as some sort of childish game?”

“I’m doing everything I can!” Zelda heard her voice burst from her, high pitched and wheedling like a child’s. She inhaled deeply, willing herself to sound calm and reasonable. “I’ll have you know that I just recently returned from the Spring of Courage where I offered every ounce of my prayers to the Goddess—”

“And now you are here, wasting your time!” The King gestured to the Guardians below. “You need to be dedicating every moment you have to your training. You must be single-minded in unlocking the power that will seal the Calamity away.”

Zelda was shaking. She could barely contain her anger. “I already am. Don’t you see? There’s nothing more I can do!” Now her eyes were filling with tears. She hated how easily she had been crying, lately. It was unbecoming and embarrassing. “My hope is, my hope is that you…” Her breathing hitched, but Zelda swallowed the stutter and managed to finish her sentence. “…that you’ll allow me to contribute here in whatever way I can. I’ve been inside all the Divine Beasts, I studied with Purah, so I have much to share with—”

“No more excuses, Zelda.” The King shook his head, as if to clear it from her suggestions. “Stop running away from your duty. As the king, I forbid you to have anything to do with these machines from now on. In fact, I believe I should send the Sheikah back to their village. It’s clear that their presence has only been distracting you.”

Zelda cursed herself when her vision blurred and she tasted salt on her lips. “No!”

“We shall honour their contributions tonight with a dinner, but then Impa must return to Kakariko with her people first thing in the morning. Only a few will be permitted to stay on and watch over the technology. Meanwhile, I command you to focus on your training.” The King walked to the wall and stared down at the Guardian. It had managed to walk a considerable distance, and the Sheikah researchers around it were cheering. Zelda felt miserable. Just when they had achieved a breakthrough, they would be forced to abandon their hard work. All because of her.

When the King spoke once more, his tone was quieter. “Do you know how the gossip mongers refer to you? They’re out there at this moment, whispering amongst themselves… that you are heir to a throne of nothing. Nothing but failure.” He looked at her then. Instead of anger, his face only showed fear, which was almost worse. “It is woven into your destiny that you prove them wrong. Do you understand?”

Zelda took in a deep, shuddering breath. “Yes. I understand.”

The King turned and left without another word. Link slowly stood up as the other knights saluted and marched away, the sound of their armour clanking.

“Excuse me,” she said before he had even turned to face her, and rushed past him into the study, closing the door. Zelda dropped into her chair and pressed her forehead to the surface of the desk. A few books tumbled to the floor, landing face down and crumpling the pages. She didn’t care.

Zelda didn’t get up until the shadows in her study stretched long and slanted, indicating that the afternoon was easing into twilight. Link was still standing on the walkway when she opened the door. He didn’t try to goad her into conversation as they made their way back to her bedroom, which was just as well. Two handmaidens waited to help her prepare for the dinner. 

After Link took his leave, and Zelda reluctantly allowed herself to be dressed. The handmaidens didn’t seem to take notice of her silence, filling the room with their own chatter as they helped her into a formal gown and attached the right accessories. Zelda stared down at the triforce on the tabard of her skirt as the girls brushed her hair. One of them stopped to polish her diadem one more time. This one had a small ruby in its centre, similar to her father’s and marking her as his heir. Zelda slowly pushed it over her head, feeling the cold metal pressing against her temples.

When she was finally ready, the handmaidens opened the doors and there was Link again. Zelda blinked. He wearing the ceremonial uniform of the royal guard. She had almost forgotten that this was his usual role, having not seen him in anything else than the Champion’s tunic for months. Link pushed his hair back beneath the cap nervously. Zelda couldn’t help but smile at his discomfort. He looked like he was going to do the same, but then the handmaidens pushed by him. One of them turned around and giggled before the other pulled her away.

Zelda and Link walked to the Dining Hall. It was slow going as she had to watch her gown, making sure not to trip over the trailing hem. As they neared, Zelda started to see clusters of nobles in their evening best and the white-robed Sheikah headed their way. Hylians well aware of her long absences with nothing to show for it and the disappointed researchers who had to know that her failure was sending them home.

Without thinking, she grabbed Link’s arm, her fingers curling tightly just above his elbow and pulling him closer. His stoic public demeanour cracked for just a moment when he blinked down at her in surprise. Then, he straightened up and lifted his arm, officially escorting her into the dining hall.

If anyone found it odd that the princess was making her entrance on the arm of a royal guard, they didn’t show it. The court applauded her politely as Link walked with her. Zelda remembered her father’s words. Gossip mongers, he had said. How many were here? How would she tell? Did it even matter? They were right, in a way. Her grip on Link’s elbow tightened as he guided her to the table at the head of the hall.

Naturally, the King was situated in the very centre. He nodded at Zelda serenely when she and Link approached — as if their quarrel on the walkway never happened. To his left, Impa took the position of the guest of honour. She smiled too, and Zelda felt her stomach twist. Impa didn't seem to carry any resentment though, just a weary sense of resignation. Zelda slid into a seat two spaces down from her father, leaving the tall golden chair between them empty. Link waited until she was settled before going to stand at attention by the wall. Captain Chard was also there, carefully scanning the hall for any sign of disruption or disorder.

The other dinner guests milled about the hall floor, getting up from their designated tables to converse with one another. They only stopped when the King stood, scurrying back to their seats and giving him their full attention.

“Beloved friends and treasured guests, it is with a full heart of gratitude that I welcome you all here to our castle for a final feast. The Sheikah tribe has been Hyrule’s oldest and greatest ally since the era of the Goddess herself. Their assistance in retrieving and researching the ancient technology has been invaluable. We wish them only safety, prosperity and success as they continue onward with their work for the kingdom. To Hyrule, and to the Goddess!”

They all obediently lifted their goblets and repeated the toast. “To Hyrule and the Goddess!”

Zelda thought it clever that the King had omitted any reasoning for the Sheikah’s departure in his speech. She looked around to see if anyone else had noticed. Nearby, a man wearing a brocade doublet leaned in to whisper to a woman whose earrings wobbled when she tilted her head to listen. Her eyes widened before darting up to the head table. Zelda quickly cast her gaze elsewhere. On the far end, a cluster of Sheikah researchers — she recognised more than one of them — solemnly touched their cups together before taking a sip.

Zelda turned away. The guilt was unbearable. Her eyes, seeking anything other than the accusatory stares of people she'd let down, found Link’s instead from where he stood against the wall. He held her gaze until Zelda felt calm enough to face the crowds again.

Throughout the meal, various clusters of people approached the table to make their homages. Most of the Hylian courtiers were simply going through the expected motions of ingratiation. They spoke to Zelda with careful respect, with one baroness nudging her husband fiercely when he made a glib comment about her training. The only people who Zelda had any real interest in speaking to was Lady Vander, who confirmed that she had sponsored Purah’s new facility, and Robbie, who walked up to the table at the head of the rest of his team from the Royal Ancient Tech Lab with his hands behind his back. He smiled and shrugged at Zelda. She felt like she was being stabbed in the gut when he thanked the King for the opportunity to work so closely with the Guardians.

“It was an excellent, hm, venture,” he said. Whatever grease he had tried on his hair had failed spectacularly. Tufts of white fluff bobbed as he bowed to them. “It’s been the greatest pleasure of my life to have been here.”

“Thank you,” Zelda said. Then, in an undertone: “I’m so sorry.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You did all you could, Princess. Don’t worry about us. You know that Dr. Purah and I won’t stop working.” Robbie waved over her shoulder at Link before returning to his table with the other Sheikah.

But Zelda couldn’t help but worry. She touched the back of her hand, but this gown’s sleeves were designed to stretch over it, and the gold embroidery snagged. Zelda fisted her fingers in her skirt as Utano suddenly sprinted over to the table.

“My good King,” he said, bowing low with a flourish. “A most humble request. As the occasion celebrates the great partnership between Hyrule and the Sheikah, I am offering my services to declaim the tale of this sacred alliance that has persisted for thousands of centuries. What is a feast, after all, without entertainment?”

Her father nodded assent, and Utano winked at Zelda before making an elaborate gesture. To her horror, a pageboy came stumbling in with the squeezebox, of all instruments. She turned to share a glance with Link again, who looked back at her with clear disbelief and irritation. That made her giggle.

But unlike before, Utano threaded his hands through the straps and hefted the bellows into his arms easily. Chords from the squeezebox quieted the hall. Zelda was pleasantly surprised to hear rich, smooth harmonies filling the air. Utano did not sing, but instead recited words over the music in a clear, strong voice.

“The history of Hyrule is a history of the royal family, which is the history of the noble fight against a primal evil that has endured over the ages. This evil has been turned back time and time again by a warrior wielding the soul of a hero and a princess who carries the blood of the Goddess.

“With the passage of time, each conflict has faded into legend. But wisdom and courage persist, like a haunting melody echoing through time, reflections of a mirror piercing shadows at twilight, or a sword striking like lightning from the sky to the surface. So listen closely as we tell you of the legend that occurred almost 10,000 years ago…

“Hyrule had been blossoming as a highly advanced civilisation. Even the most powerful monsters posed little threat to the denizens of the realm. The people thought it wise to utilise their technological prowess to ensure the safety of the land should the Calamity ever return.

“They constructed four mechanical wonders that came to be known as the Divine Beasts! They also built a legion of autonomous weapons called Guardians. The Divine Beasts were piloted by four individuals of exceptional skill across the land. And thus, the plan to defeat the Calamity was forged!

“The princess and the hero fought alongside these four Champions against this ancient evil. The Guardians were tasked with protecting the people as the Divine Beasts unleashed a furious attack upon their terrible foe. And when the hero wielding the sword that seals the darkness delivered the final blow, the princess used her sacred power to seal away the Calamity!”

Utano looked up at the head table again, his eyes focused only on Zelda as he pushed the squeezebox’s bellows together and made a final proclamation.

“Upon Ganon’s inevitable return to Hyrule, we are seeing our nation blossoming once more! Up arise the Divine Beasts, with four exceptional Champions at their helm. Around the kingdom go the Guardians, shielding us from evil! And here we have our princess and her hero. Let not this challenge come unnoticed! They are not legend, but flesh and blood, and may their feats live on in story and song.”

Utano ended his performance to much applause. He swung the squeezebox down from his shoulders and grinned at Zelda happily. She heard her father remark, “A good segue into socialising, if any. Perhaps it’s time to make the rounds.”

Impa inclined her head. “If you so wish, my King.”

Their chairs scraped the stone floor loudly as they pushed them back, getting ready to step down from the platform and mingle with the guests. Captain Chard followed the King silently and swiftly, his arms clasped behind his back. Zelda wondered if she was to go along with them when a shadow fell over her.

The chandelier’s candlelight danced in Utano’s dark eyes as he beamed at her. “Good evening, Princess. I hope you were properly entertained.”

“It was very good,” she admitted. “I never thought I would appreciate the chimes of your squeezebox, but… here we are.”

He laughed. “I understand that it was never a favourite of yours, so I am heartened that you finally came around to it for its last performance here.”

Zelda felt a chill wash over her. “You don’t mean…”

Utano smiled sadly. “The King has requested that all Sheikah leave tomorrow. And I am a Sheikah, dear princess.”

This made things so much worse. Zelda knew how much Utano enjoyed staying at the castle and being surrounded by the trophies of the legends he so adored. She felt tears welling up in her eyes.

“Please, Princess — do not be so downhearted. I made a promise to you earlier.” Utano extended his hand. “May I have the chance to fulfill it?”

She couldn’t refuse. Zelda stood up and took his hand. Utano led her around the table and off the platform, waiting as she lifted her skirt to step down. Before they left the Dining Hall, she remembered to look back. Nobody else at the dinner seemed to mind her leaving, but Link was staring daggers at her. He hadn’t moved. Zelda couldn't do anything before Utano closed the door behind them.

He took her to one of the several small rooms along the corridor. It was really more of an alcove. Zelda squeezed by the knight’s statue and settled onto the two-seat recliner, Utano beside her. His fingers twitched upon his knee, only a few inches away from Zelda’s, which were curled up on her lap.

He finally spoke. “I’ll never forget the first time I came to this castle. It was the greatest thing I’d ever beheld. My home is in the mountains, but this… it’s bigger than most villages. Even from miles away, you can see every spire and tower.”

“Yes, it’s ridiculous,” Zelda said. He chuckled.

“Everything here is so rich, soft, opulent,” he said. “I knew that this was where I belonged. Every chamber radiates with history and class. The body of work I could create from simply looking up at this castle was endless, I knew it immediately.”

The longing and reverence in his voice broke her heart. Zelda struggled to think of something to say, a proper apology, but then he reached over and squeezed her hand. “That was also the first day we met. Do you remember it?”

“Of course.”

“It might have been out of turn to approach you so candidly,” Utano said, “but I simply had to. Your kindred spirit, your intelligence and passionate heart called to mine. I relive that day often in my dreams, Princess.”

Utano let go of her hand and reached into his robe. He produced a small but familiar object: fat, rounded, teardrop-shaped and made of clay…

“I used this for first song I ever played for you.” Utano smiled. “So it’s only befitting that it will sing my last... well, I hope with all my heart that it won’t be, but at least for now—”

Suddenly, the door to the room slammed open. Zelda jumped as a resounding crash splintered around them. Utano cried out in alarm and dropped the ocarina, which smashed against the floor into sharp, tiny pieces.

Link glared at them, his fist still holding the door against the wall. The latch had been broken, snapped cleanly in two and dangling from a hinge that had been pushed deeper into the wood, splinters rising from the edges.

Zelda was speechless. Utano looked down at his ruined instrument, then back at Link, who was unfaltering in his fury. Without even reaching down to pick up the fragments, he stood up.

“I should go,” he said.

“Wait.” Zelda reached up and touched his sleeve. He looked back at her, but there was fear in his eyes. “I didn’t—”

“It’s alright, Princess,” Utano said. He bowed to her, at least as much as the limited space allowed, then hurried past her sullen knight.

Once the footsteps faded away, Zelda grabbed the front of Link’s uniform. He, she was satisfied to see, was already looking stricken with embarrassment, but not regret. “What is wrong with you?!”

“You left,” he said.

“So what if I did? I can’t have a private conversation in my own home?” Zelda gestured to the broken ocarina. “And what’s the purpose of taking it out on poor Utano anyway? He is my friend and deserves none of this.”

“He was…”

“What ill was he going to do to me? Tell me.”

Link turned red. Zelda closed her eyes and breathed in. It had been an awful evening for everyone. She wouldn’t force an insincere apology from him. He looked nervous when she took his hand and squeezed it. The royal guard gloves were made from fine suede leather, and she was surprised at how soft it was to the touch. “Well, we can’t go back in there like this. I suppose we should leave.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere else.” Zelda pulled him out of the room and down the corridor. They hurried past the entrance to the Dining Hall. The doors were slightly ajar, and the sounds of conversation and clinking glasses wafted through the crack.

Once they were past it,something shifted — a change in the air, a sudden understanding. They turned to look at each other at the same time. Link grinned, and Zelda reached down to bundle up her skirt with her free hand. They ran down the steps towards the western side of the castle, sharing that strange rush of exhilaration coursing through their veins.

Zelda was leading the way, and she nearly collided into a figure down in the first foyer they reached. They were going too quickly for her to recognise their features, though the royal guard uniform was unmistakable.

“Pardon,” she gasped. She pulled on Link’s hand even harder, hearing his footsteps following the pounding of her heartbeat as they careened into the Observation Room. Mercifully, there was no soldier standing guard before the wingcrest statue. Zelda and Link raced up the stairs, still connected, and burst out into the open.

It was nothing more than a narrow balcony, but it fulfilled its function well. Their escape was a success. Zelda sucked in deep gulps of the night air into her panting lungs. She let out a breathless giggle before turning to Link. His fingers were still curled around hers, but his eyes were wide with uncertain shock.

“What?” she asked.

“That… that was my father,” he said.

Zelda stared at him for a moment, and then they both started to laugh. She pulled him over to a bench by the wall where they both collapsed. “I’ll take the blame,” she told him. “It’s well known that your tenure as my appointed knight has involved an awful lot of running after me.”

“You did leave the hall unannounced,” he agreed.

“Perfect,” she said. "We have our story." Zelda took off her diadem and tossed it onto the bench. Her hair would look like a crooked mess, but she didn’t care. Her temples had been throbbing all night from the pressure from the heavy gold.

They sat there, catching their breath. Zelda sighed and leaned against Link's shoulder. His muscles tensed at once. She looked over. His chin just grazed his chest as he stared down at the ground. His brows were knotted together in distress, and he was chewing his bottom lip distractedly.

Zelda could tell that he was still thinking of the altercation in the alcove. It had shaken her to see just how possessive he'd become, and how little regret he'd seemed to have in displaying it. Link had acted like she had broken some sort of promise she never knew she'd made. Whatever it was, it was no excuse to have treated Utano in such a manner. At least he had finally reached a place of penitence. Zelda watched Link stew in his nerves and felt a small pang of pity.

He started when she wrapped her hand around his elbow again. "That was very wrong," she told him. He nodded. "But it's in the past now. Please don't do that again."

"Yes, Princess."

Zelda squeezed his upper arm. "I forgive you."

Link sighed. "Thank you."

She smiled at him until he finally relaxed, which she could feel beneath her fingers.

Zelda released him and stood up. She went over to the edge of the balcony and looked out. Castle Town was drifting into sleep as the night grew late. There were still people walking the streets, resembling miniatures in groups of two and threes, but they quickly stole into houses where the windows glowed yellow before switching off into black.

Link joined her. “That’s where I lived as a child,” he told her, pointing over towards the eastern part of Castle Town. “My father had a room in the Watchtower barracks before being appointed to the castle.”

“When did you come here?”

“After I passed the test to join the guard.” Link leaned his elbows on the parapet. “You can see a lot from here.”

The castle entrance was directly before them, the doors pulled tightly shut and lanterns blazing over the ramparts. Beyond was Castle Town, where bunting hanging from the fountain in the city centre fluttered over the tumbling waters. Even further than that was a shadowy Hyrule Field, the dark shapes of the Gerudo cliffs, and the pointed rise of Dueling Peaks, with the flat top of the Great Plateau wedged between the two.

Zelda looked over it all, quiet and dreamful beneath the glow of the moon and stars above. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Link looked at her. Then, he smiled. “Yes.”

“I’ve always thought so too. But recently, the journeys we’ve taken, the trips to other places... I don’t know why, but it's changed now. There's something more, oh, I don't know. It doesn't even feel right to use the word love... Having been able to walk the land, cross the rivers, climb mountains and talk to the regular people have made Hyrule more real and dear to me than ever before. I know I have to take care of it.” Zelda spread her fingers over the flat of the balcony's railing. “So… it’s back to training, then. Father’s right. We need the Goddess for when the Calamity comes.”

Link was still watching her. “The Spring of Power?” She nodded. “You’ve already trained there though,” he continued. “You spent hours in the water.”

“How did you know?”

“Urbosa told me.”

“Of course.” Zelda drummed her fingers on the stone. “What else did she tell you?”

“She said you’re special.”

Zelda laughed. “Of course she did. But I would take anything said by a godmother about her ward with a grain of salt.”

“She’s right.”

She stopped laughing and stared at him. Link straightened up.

“You work harder than anyone else I know,” he said. “Everything that this kingdom or the Goddesses have thrown at you, which would make any normal person go mad, you’ve handled it with such grace and fearlessness sometimes I do think we could trade places. Nobody cares more about the people of Hyrule than you do. You’re also the smartest person I know. And you’re the most b—”

Link suddenly stopped. He turned his head so she couldn’t see his face, just the lock of hair that dangled over his ears, swaying silently from the movement.

Zelda wanted him to finish. She needed to know what he wanted to say. Stepping closer, she snaked her arm around his yet again, pulling him back to face her. Three times in one evening meant that this was becoming a habit... As her fingers closed around his bicep, Zelda forced herself to admit that she liked this. The bulk of his muscle was solid and strong. Holding onto him like this was so comforting. He was so close.

And he was looking right at her, looking with intent and no reluctance, shame, or discomfort. She could barely breathe when he looked at her like that.

Then, Link leaned forward. Zelda dimly realised that he was taller than her. When did that happen? His eyes seemed to change colour as the space between them closed, shadows turning them from sky blue into a mysterious deep ocean. She could feel his hair brushing across her forehead and ears, and the warm puff of breath hovering just over her lips.

Zelda closed her eyes.

“Princess.”

Her eyes snapped open. So did Link’s, which for a moment was all she could see before her until he stepped back. Zelda felt the warmth between them disappear, replaced by emptiness when he pulled himself out of her grasp.

Utano stood behind her. His eyes did not sparkle at her, and in a grotesque parallel to earlier, had a single hand resting up on the stone frame of the entrance with the fingers curled up tightly. But he didn't look at Link at all, just her. “Princess," he repeated quietly, "Your father the King asks for you."

Zelda nodded, a bit too quickly. “I’ll be there.”

Utano turned and left. Zelda waited until the cold echoes of his footsteps had faded before she dared to look at Link again. He’d turned away from her, adjusting his cap and making sure that his fringe stayed hidden beneath the brim. Zelda looked down at the bench. The ruby in her diadem gleamed at her. She picked it up and pushed it over her forehead, feeling the uncomfortable pinch of its ends behind her ears.

He didn’t offer his arm as they left the Observation Room, even when she forgot to lift her skirt and stumbled over the first step down the staircase. They walked through the corridor in silence, and he trailed a good two feet behind her when they reentered the Dining Hall. Zelda blinked at the assault on her senses: candles burning brightly in their lamps, the delicious smells of food and drink mixed with smoke from the fireplace, dazzling colours of the Hylian court's best clothes, and the utter cacophony of babble and merriment roaring around her.

Link seemed to melt into the shadows as lords and ladies swept up to her, complimenting her dress and querying about her travels around Hyrule. Zelda heard her own voice responding automatically, but her mind felt empty.

He was right behind her, but she missed him already.

Chapter Text

Link, eyes already open and wide, stared up at the distant vaulted ceiling above him. Banners hanging from the rafters swung gently, as if they were being buffeted by the heavy breathing and mutters of the slumbering guards around him.

He rolled over to squint out the narrow windows of the chamber. There was nothing but darkness outside. Link watched as the flame of a dying candle in a nearby lantern sputtered and spat out a few more sparks before disappearing into pale smoke. The rows of weapons lined up upon the wall immediately lost their shine. After a few more seconds of feeling his heart pounding against his ribcage, Link kicked off his blanket and sprang to his feet. If rest refused to come to him, then might as well jump back into routine.

Soon, he was running along the parapet of the outer wall of the castle. There was no other sound or movement other than the wind through his hair, the steadiness of his breathing, and the uncomfortable unevenness of hewn stone beneath the soles of his feet every time they struck the ground. It felt good to be pushing himself like this. Link lowered his head as he passed over what would have been the Observation Room.

He tried not to think of the night before, when… when he…

He had almost kissed Princess Zelda.

She had pulled him towards her, his mind argued, she had looked up at him and closed her eyes. And like a fool, Link had hesitated. Who knew that a mere two seconds would be so crucial before who of all people would come back around and deliver his revenge. But it was highly unlikely that Utano had actually planned such an action, Link was forced to admit. It only felt that way because the poet had always been far more cultured, more charming, more clever with every compliment and gift he gave her. Link had defeated monsters and men alike with the sword, but he would never win against Utano’s wit.

He ran resolutely onward, leaving it behind him. All too quickly, the entrance to the Dining Hall appeared to his left. Shadows flickered beyond the cloudy glass windows: attendants still cleaning up from the night before and making sure it was set to order for the royal family’s breakfast.

Upon their return to the Dining Hall, Princess Zelda had immediately been swarmed by guests and pelted by their questions. Even the King had pulled her over at one point to admonish her for the disappearance, but she simply looked down at the carpet and listlessly apologised. It was such a far cry from the animated and defiant girl Link knew, but the princess had continued floating through the dinner like this, all too acquiescent and withdrawn. She would glance over her shoulder back at him from time to time, though there was always a barrier of at least two people deep between them.

Link skidded to a stop at the bottom of a staircase. He leaned against the wall and covered his face with his hands, cursing himself for every decision he’d ever made in his life.

The castle remained dark and silent save for lanterns flickering in turrets and the gentle splash from the waterfalls that flowed out from beneath the sanctum. Once Link reached the western side of the castle, he saw the slender tower rise before him, framed by stars that lightened the darkness around it.

After the dinner had finally ended, his final duty was to escort the princess back to her quarters. It had taken her a long time to walk up all those stairs. Link didn’t know whether it was from tiredness, the long velvet train of her skirt, or any other reason. She had stumbled a few times, but he didn’t dare reach out and touch her. He only helped her pull open the door to her bedroom once they reached it. Before she went inside, the princess had paused, turning slowly to face him.

“Goodnight,” she said.

He only managed a nod. Princess Zelda’s face fell and she closed the door. Link considered throwing himself off the tower.

Now it was hours later and having his body splatter across the flagstones still seemed like a good idea. Instead, Link hoisted himself over the parapet and began to climb down the wall to the courtyard. This way, his back was to the tower, so he wouldn’t see her even if she did somehow wake up and come to the window.

When his feet hit the ground, Link sighed and rested his forehead against the cool stone. He didn’t know how he would face her today.

“Good morning.”

Link wheeled around. Captain Chard pushed himself up with one shoulder from where he leaned against the wall and regarded his son placidly. Link stared, flabbergasted, while his father reached into a pocket and offered him an apple. “Hungry?”

Instead of waiting for a reply, Chard tossed the round red fruit into the air, and Link caught it with both hands. Without speaking, the two knights began to walk across the courtyard, falling into step together.

Link broke the silence first. “How was your trip with the King?”

The Captain answered promptly while Link bit into the apple. “It was good if you mean by what we learned, because we learned a great deal. But if you mean good news, then I would mark it as only fair — only two fortifications were up to scratch for a serious assault.”

“Which ones?”

“Akkala Citadel. It has proper height and strength, and is well manned by an entire battalion of soldiers. The only way in is by a bridge that will make a surprise attack nigh impossible. The second best would probably be Fort Hateno, but mainly for its location. The mountains make a good natural defense. The fort itself could use some additional shoring, and though good men hold its walls, they’re in need of supplies and stretched out very thin along the wall.”

“We passed Fort Hateno,” Link said.

Chard turned to him. Link noticed the ghost of a smirk crossing his father’s face. “So I heard. You’ve travelled quite a distance with the princess. Thank you for returning with her last night. I was not looking forward to collecting you.”

Link could only stammer out something about it not being what it seemed. Which was the truth, but Chard seemed to misread his mortified expression, his smile widening. Link gave up, tossing the core of his apple over the wall and hearing it splash faintly into the moat.

They stopped before the door down into the Guard Chamber, where the men below slept for only a few minutes more. Chard gently blocked Link from entering by putting a hand out. “Wait a moment,” he said.

The shadows of the training tools littered across the courtyard shortened as the sun rose higher into the sky. “I would like to apologise,” The captain said. “I believe I gave you the wrong advice for your situation. I maintain what I said about things being out of your control — you will never know where you are going, who or what you’ll meet there, and when things will come together or fall apart. But sometimes… you can’t control yourself. How you may feel. And that’s not bad.”

Chard lowered his voice as he continued. “Sometimes, it’s good, and even a source of strength. It could very well be that these things we can’t control could also make us good at what we do, what makes others trust us… makes us want to protect the people we care about.”

He reached out and turned Link’s shoulder to look him squarely in the eye, speaking slowly and clearly. “So she is very, very lucky to have you.”

Link didn’t move, even when the door finally opened. The captain entered without another word, stride long and head erect, not even bothering with a glance back as he descended the steps. Link breathed in deeply. The doubts that had plagued him all night were finally dissipating. He still wasn’t proud of his actions, but there was relief in knowing his emotions were at least validated — and by the person who mattered more than most.

Sounds were floating up the stairs. They heralded the royal guard preparing to start another day: the clinking of armour, grumble of conversation, and clattering of benches and tables for breakfast. The Master Sword was waiting for him. His friends would be wondering about him. His father trusted him.

He would see the princess in a few hours and get another chance.

Link straightened up. Then, he entered without another word, stride long and head erect. He didn’t glance back.

The Sheikah departed from the castle in the late morning. Link was to leave with the princess for Akkala province very shortly afterward, which meant that their horses were brought to them in the midst of all the hustle and bustle of wagons loaded with trunks and tools and other personal items. Robbie had retreated to the Royal Ancient Tech Lab one last time to collect his things, but Link still thought of him when a large Guidance stone rumbled by on a cart, lashed down to the slats with the cracks stuffed with straw. It was a sadly nostalgic image.

Princess Zelda had a very tearful farewell with Impa. They shared a tender embrace. Impa rubbed the princess’s shoulder and promised that communication would never be lost between them. “We have been stripped of honours before, but that will never prevent the Sheikah from serving the royal family. You will always know where to find me, my princess, and we will come to your aid whenever you need it.”

Link saw a familiar topknot weaving through the crowd, bobbing up and down and coming closer. He quickly ducked behind the princess’s white stallion, holding onto its bridle and keeping his head down. He didn't trust himself to bear witness to this. Still, he couldn’t resist listening out for what Utano had to say, for the last time.

Princess Zelda’s voice was full of earnest emotion while she apologised for the evening before, and asked him if there was any way to resume their conversation.

“It doesn’t matter,” Utano replied. “I have accepted what fate has served me. I can tell if I’m not wanted here.”

Princess Zelda protested that this was untrue. Link ran his fingers beneath the saddle, feeling the rough weave of the stallion’s blanket and the heat from its body while Utano gently interrupted her.

“Princess,” Utano said softly, though Link still heard him. “If we are indeed still friends, please prove it by respecting my pride and intelligence. I don’t need you to coddle me like a child.”

“My apologies,” she mumbled. Link dared to look past the horse’s mane to see the two of them facing each other. Then, Utano suddenly stepped forward and touched her chin.

“This sentence might not be an exile, but a blessing,” he said. “After all, many a powerful lyric has been borne from heartbreak. I will not be squandering this experience, I promise you!”

Her eyes widened as he smiled and leaned in. Link grabbed the saddle straps so tightly that they twisted in his fist, but Utano kissed her cheek so quickly that even the princess looked more confused than surprised. Before she could say anything, the poet turned around and left her alone, eventually lost in the throng of his people.

Princess Zelda didn’t look at Link when he finally approached some time later with her horse. She took the reins from him without a word and mounted. She bent her head so her long yellow hair could fall between them. Link stayed by her side as the Sheikah finally filed out of the castle gates, a solemn procession of white robes and red tattoos.

Link looked up at Princess Zelda, who sat cheerless but determined from the saddle. Their eyes met. “I’m ready to go,” she said.

He nodded. “Yes, my princess.”

Her eyes followed him as he swung up onto his own horse and nudged it forward. Soldiers saluted them as they rode through the tall gates together.

The way to Akkala was long, but not difficult. Link and the princess rode all day, stopping only for short breaks by the river to allow their steeds to slake their thirst. Both horses greedily crunched up endura carrots, broken into smaller pieces for quicker consumption, from Princess Zelda’s palm.

Link watched her do this quietly. Quiet, that was the best word to describe the trip so far. To be fair, they were spending a great deal of time on the road, and conversation was not easy over the noise of pounding hooves and whistles of a sharp wind that would snatch up your words and whisk them away. But even here, quiet reigned along this grassy bank.

Just when he had mustered some courage to speak up, the princess had walked to her horse, hoisting herself over the saddle and steering it back to the road. Link could only follow her.

After a day’s worth of this uneasy quiet, they finally arrived at South Akkala Stable. The moon was a slice of silver in the sky, looking like an ominous sickle hanging dangerously over the looming tower that was Akkala Citadel. Captain Chard’s appraisal rang true: it was a great fortress of several storeys perched atop a cliff. A beacon blazed at the top, and Link could see the shadows of soldiers making their rounds steadily.

The princess didn’t even look at it. She made a beeline for the humble stable instead. Link could understand. The citadel was a resounding symbol of the military might of Hyrule, of which the Commander-in-Chief was none other than King Rhoam.

Come morning, Link woke up to pouring rain. He joined the stable master at the entrance of the tent where they peered out into the water that steadily bucketed down around them.

“Road’s turned to soup,” the stable master said to Link. “Bad luck, boy. You’ll have to wait this out.”

Link went back in and informed Princess Zelda at her breakfast. Her cup of tea was getting cold. “Alright,” she muttered. She was flicking through the Compendium on the Sheikah Slate, but far too quickly to be actually reading the entries.

If they were trapped here, then Link supposed conversation was unavoidable. He decided to take the plunge. “Princess… about… yesterday, when we, um—”

Princess Zelda finally looked up at him. Link felt his heart skip a beat as her green eyes almost pierced his soul. She wore an expression so filled with distress that his next words immediately died on his tongue.

“Link… I’m so sorry. But I can’t talk to you right now. Please. Could you…?”

He conceded at once, leaving her alone to sit by a group of gossipy travellers on the other side of the stable. As the others swapped rumours and compared information from the other provinces, Link kept looking back at the princess every so often. She still hadn’t touched her tea, staring down at the Sheikah Slate. But her hands were cupped under her chin, and her eyes were glazed over. She didn’t even touch the screen.

It was already mid afternoon when the stable master got up on a stool and declared to all that the rain was now at an acceptable level for travel. Link and the princess joined the mass evacuation. While groomsmen groaned at the mud tracked all over the floor and merchants bustled about collecting their wares, they eschewed horses completely and began heading north.

Akkala was a region that rivalled Tabantha for its scenic views. Link and Princess Zelda avoided the murky sludge of the road and walked upon the springy green grasses that grew thick in this well-watered land. A brisk breeze rustled the branches of the famous Akkalan trees. Their path cut through an abundant grove of these, surrounding them in the gorgeous, rich hues of red, orange, and bronze.

Once out of the beautiful forest, they left the road and climbed down into an old quarry. Any construction had been long abandoned here, and nature had already begun to reclaim the earth. Young trees, their leaves not yet burnished to the warm colours of their parents, sprouted between chipped columns of rock. Link followed the princess around them until they reached a small dip in the wall that was covered in vines.

As they neared, he realised that the brambles had been camouflage for a carved archway. The dry leaves rustled loudly as Princess Zelda pushed them aside. They entered an old stone tunnel. Cracks ran down from the curved ceiling. Link could already hear the splashing of water echoing down the tunnel, and behind yet more vines, they emerged upon the Spring of Power itself.

This was much grander than the Spring of Courage, which had been little more than a flooded cave after passing the dragon-carved entrance. The Spring of Power hinted at a long history and demanded deeper respect, as the name implied. The stone beneath their feet was very worn and weathered. Columns lining the pathway were already in ruin, though some of the delicately wrought sconces attached to them were still intact. A short flight of stairs led up to a hexagonal plinth looking over the water, fed by multiple waterfalls flowing down from a verdant ledge cut into the cliffside. Two ancient and gnarled trees flanked the Statue of the Goddess, who stood at the end of a sunken stone procession.

Link waited on the plinth as Princess Zelda prepared for her ritual. The sun was beginning to set already, tinting the waters a strong purple. When she reappeared in that thin white dress, the sky was already much darker. Link recalled a warning from a traveller at the stable: even in the warmer seasons, temperatures could drop significantly at night here in Akkala. They had urged Link to bring along extra layers just in case, so he'd stuffed the horses' blankets into his pack before leaving. Seeing the princess's bare shoulders and exposed ankles made him want to throw one of them over her already.

Princess Zelda looked very unhappy, but she still gingerly stepped into the spring. The skirt of her dress ballooned over the surface at first, but was soon dragged down as it soaked up water. The fabric clung to Princess Zelda's legs as she began to wade out towards the Statue of the Goddess, shuddering with each movement.

Link didn't feel comfortable raising his voice in such an old and sombre place. He coughed. "Princess—"

"It's fine," she said, not turning around. "I've done this before."

To worrisome results, according to Urbosa. But he didn't push the matter further, watching ripples ebb away from her as she took position before the Statue. Her skin looked ashen from the way the fading light reflected off the clouds.

Just as before, she didn’t move for hours. Link stood with his back to her, the Master Sword unsheathed and his vision focused on the vines. His muscles tensed whenever they so much rustled in the breezes, though it could also be in response to the breezes themselves. Crisp was a very mild description. His fingers already felt like ice. Link couldn’t stop thinking about the princess. If he was getting uncomfortable, surely standing in that water for so long was nothing less than torture.

He was about to give in and grab a blanket when suddenly, he heard her voice. It was barely above a whisper but carried easily across the water.

"I come seeking help regarding this power that has been handed down over time." There was a soft sigh. “Prayer will awaken the power to seal the Calamity away, or so I've been told all my life."

He knew he should be keeping watch, but Link strained to hear her over the falling water.

"Grandmother heard them — the voices from the spirit realm — and Mother said her own power would develop within me.” Her voice grew stronger, sounding less like a prayer and more like the normal Princess Zelda, trying to gather what she knew and rationalise it. “But... but I don't hear, or feel anything! And Father has told me time and time again to stop playing at being a scholar..."

There was a long pause. Link tilted his head, listening.

"Curse you!" Splashes suddenly echoed off the walls as the princess's fists hit the surface of the water. "I've spent every day of my life dedicated to praying! I've pleaded to the spirits tied to the ancient gods, and still the holy powers have proven deaf to my devotion."

Out the corner of his eye, he could see Princess Zelda hugging her arms. It was the first indication of how cold she must be in these waters. Link thought he heard her sneezing, but no — she was crying. He turned completely as she drew closer to the Statue, palms turned upward, beseeching. "Please just tell me... what is it? What's wrong with me?"

The Statue of the Goddess loomed over his tiny princess, dark and silent and inflexible. The waterfalls failed to cover up Princess Zelda’s cries. “I need it! Everyone is counting on me. You wouldn’t allow the Calamity to prevail…?” She moved to properly throw herself down in supplication at the foot of the Statue. “Please, I’ll do anything!”

She had been in the spring for too long. Princess Zelda shuffled forward and slipped on the ancient stone. Link saw the splash of water rise over her arms, drenching even her hair. She didn't recover, submerged to the chest as she stayed on her knees, sobbing. Link dropped the Master Sword, barely registering its clatter onto the ground as he jumped into the water as well. He hissed in shock at the freezing temperature — it was so cold that he didn’t even feel wet for a few seconds. A part of him was angry as he waded his way towards the princess before his legs went numb. Why did she have to do this to herself?

She had no reaction when he scooped her up. Link gritted his teeth and carried her with some difficulty; now he had to get back with a shivering princess in his arms. To top it off, an icy wind moaned through the long stone tunnel and whipped at his hair just as they reached the plinth. Feeling a real panic now, Link grabbed the first item of clothing he could reach — his hood — and wrapped Princess Zelda tightly in it before lighting a fire right there on the spot. His own arm trembled as he missed the flint the first few swings, but soon it blazed before them, casting dancing shadows upon the broken pillars and sending sparks scattering up into the night.

She had felt so cold that Link didn’t trust the hood to be enough. Princess Zelda didn’t say a word when he settled down next to her and pulled her back into a tight hug. She simply couldn’t. Her entire body shook uncontrollably. Cold rolled off her skin, and the wetness soaked through all the layers around her. Link laid a hand against her cheek, trying to stop her jaw from chattering so intensely.

He held her like this until finally the spasms slowed down. Her skin remained cold to the touch, but at least she didn’t seem to be in a dangerous condition anymore. But Princess Zelda continued gasping softly as she resumed crying.

“What is wrong with me?” she asked again.

“Nothing is wrong with you,” he said at once.

“Stop lying!” She suddenly jerked away and slammed her palm against his chest, rendering him speechless — less from the sting of the blow, but of the action itself. “I don’t want your pity, I want to know why!”

Before he could properly react, she burst into a fresh wave of sobs, letting her head fall and her arm curl around his neck. Link drew her close again and felt his tunic dampen from tears.

“I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay,” he told her.

She rested her forehead against his neck. Link waited for her weeping to subside, which took a while. Finally, the princess sighed and sat up a little bit straighter, sniffling and looking very ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“It’s okay.” Her hair dangled around her face in stringy clumps, their ends often ending in knots. Link reached up and tucked a lock around her ear.

“Now your hood’s all wet,” she said.

“It’s supposed to get wet.” He was rewarded with a small stutter that might have been a laugh.

Another breeze swept over them, and Princess Zelda shivered. Link didn’t even think before he wrapped his arms around her again, and she didn’t stop him. There was no sound but the dry wood giving into the flames, cracking under the heat and disintegrating into ash. Link pressed his closed eyelids against the top of her head, concentrating hard on feeling her here, against him.

After a forever that wasn’t long enough, Link felt the princess stir. She gently extricated herself from him until he was exposed to the chilly air, which nipped at his damp clothes.

Princess Zelda stood up, letting the hood slide to the ground in a soggy pile. The fire’s light lit her up from behind. Even in her dishevelled state, nobody had ever looked more like a goddess — that silent lump of stone in the distance certainly lost against his princess. “I should change out of this,” she said.

Her sandals slapped softly along the ground as she left him. The white hem of her dress, still somewhat translucent, fluttered around her shins like a ghost while she disappeared behind the curtain of vines. Link pulled his knees to his chest and squeezed fistfuls of his hair in his hands. How was it that he missed the right moment every single time? Perhaps he truly didn’t deserve her.

When Princess Zelda returned, the fire had been stoked back to a roaring flame with fresh fuel. The extra blankets from the horses gathered heat from where they had been spread along the ground near it. The princess followed Link’s example by hanging up her soaked dress on a broken pillar to dry next to his hood before sitting down beside him.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Anything,” he replied, and meant it. “Hungry?” She shook her head. “Tired?”

A very slow nod. Link held out his arm and she moved closer. The button around her collar was undone, and she hadn’t bothered putting on her belt. Link gently lifted her legs over his lap so she could curl up against him before draping the other blanket over her.

It didn’t take long for the princess to fall asleep; she was absolutely exhausted. Link looked down at her and knew he was lost. He could feel her exhales fluttering along his collarbone, and the weight of her arm around his stomach. Her hair was still wet and tangled. His heart thumped so hard he couldn't believe that it still didn’t wake her up. Princess Zelda’s weariness must have been profound.

But even as he marvelled at this miracle in his arms, reality began to sink in. When the princess woke up, she would still be powerless. The King, the Sheikah, the other Champions, and all of Hyrule were expecting them to hold back the Calamity and save the kingdom. Confessing to her would do nothing to alleviate this pressure, stress, and sense of doom… it wouldn’t help her. It wasn’t what she needed right now. And perhaps, it occurred to him as he listened to her slow and steady breathing, it might not be what she wanted from him…

Though these thoughts filled him with such an ache, Link remembered his father's words. He couldn't control his feelings for Princess Zelda, and that, that wasn't bad. He could still use them. He would be a stronger protector for her, and hold onto some of her pain if she needed him to. He could love her without having her. It wasn't the right time, if ever there would be one. He could let her go.

Except for tonight. Tonight they were together, and he wouldn't let anything separate them even if the damned Calamity itself returned. Link rested his cheek against her head and trailed his finger down her arm. Somehow, he needed to commit every detail about her not just to memory, because memory was unreliable, he wanted to engrave it into his bones so it would stay with him forever. There was a good possibility he would never have this ever again.

Link tried to stay alert, watching her eyelids twitch and listening to her mumble softly, feeling her finally warm and relaxed... but soon, the weight of it all took him too, and he joined her in sleep.

Chapter Text

Zelda came to first. For a moment, she was disoriented by the surprisingly flat hardness beneath her body, as well as the weight of something warm pressing against her. Even if her muscles immediately began to ache with cramps from this unusual position, she felt comfortable and safe, almost like someone was holding her close…

Zelda blinked fully awake and felt her eyelashes brush against Link’s chin. She glanced up. He had her trapped with his arm wrapped up tightly around her waist and back, ending with his fingers tangled in her hair. His lips, slightly apart, brushed against her forehead. A wave of panic — or was it exhilaration? — swept through her as Zelda realised there was no way she could extract herself from his grasp without waking him up.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to stir. Link groaned softly as he rolled over and finally let her go. Zelda got up as quietly as she could, but in doing so tugged on the blanket beneath both of them. Link’s eyes suddenly snapped open and he turned his head, freezing mid-stretch. Their eyes met, and he scrambled up into a sitting position.

“Good morning,” was all Zelda could think of to say.

He nodded. Silent, mutual embarrassment moved them away from each other. Zelda retrieved her ceremonial wear while Link cooked breakfast over the dying embers of the fire. When she returned, he seemed to have collected himself, looking over at her with just the slightest hint of pink colouring his face. He relaxed when she accepted the food with a smile. They sat by the edge of the plinth and ate together.

The Spring of Power no longer possessed the cold and austere aura that Zelda had forced herself to endure the night before, but there was still a strong sense of… well, power. The morning sunlight seemed amplified here, streaming down into the small canyon and setting the water’s surface ablaze until it looked like it was covered with dozens of tiny, glittering diamonds. The tumbling waterfalls kept the air crisp and cool, with the small rainbows forming in the spray that streamed from ledge to ledge. As she swallowed the last smoky taste of toasted mushrooms, Zelda regarded the still and silent Statue of the Goddess for the last time before standing up.

Link folded up the blankets and put them away. His hands moved with swift precision, and soon they were done, standing face to face on the sun-warmed stone with the ashes of the fire already blown away by the wind. “What do you want to do?” he asked her.

Zelda rubbed the back of her hand, feeling despondency descending over her again. “Well, there’s another temple dedicated to the sages southeast of Castle Town. It’s not considered an especially holy site, but I suppose we can see if any of the consecrated relics they’ve collected there might inspire something…”

Link took both her hands so they weren’t touching each other anymore. Zelda felt her cheeks flush, but Link simply looked into her eyes and asked again, “What do you want to do?”

“I probably should…”

“Not what you should do, what you want to do. Forget the damn prayers. It’s not worth the misery. Your father isn’t here and I won’t tell him anything.”

Zelda needed a moment. “I’d like to see our friends again.”

“Then let’s do that.”

Vah Ruta was the closest of the four Divine Beasts. Knowing that the road into Lanayru was winding and steep, Zelda and Link decided not to take out horses and take their time walking instead. The weather was kind, with none of the deluge of the previous day, though a small band of clouds still managed to cushion them from the sun’s bright rays as they departed from Akkala. Zelda listened to the crunch of pebbles beneath her feet as the tall cliffs of Upland Zorana rose up beside them. Although Zora’s Domain was quite literally just on the other side of these mountains, they wouldn’t reach it until the following day.

These thoughts slowed Zelda’s step, and Link started to overtake her on the path. The Master Sword gleamed at her from its place on his back.

He hadn’t spoken very much since their departure from the Spring of Power. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the branches of the surrounding trees and lit up his profile. Zelda’s heart almost stopped at the sight, especially when one of the rays hit the golden gem embedded in the Master Sword’s crossguard. Suddenly, he really did look every inch the hero from the stories and legends. She felt small in his presence.

But then, he glanced back and, when upon noticing her staring, tripped over a tree root. Zelda swallowed a giggle before helping him up. Once their eyes met, the stiffness between them dissolved. He looked extremely sheepish while she kept a grip on him, once again wrapping her arm around his. It was simply too easy, with the crook of his elbow being just the right height and the firmness of his muscle supportive and strong... she wanted to hold onto him forever.

A day and half would suffice. They turned together and continued walking down the trail, connected and content.

After reaching final island before entering Zora Domain proper, they were met by a most unexpected welcoming party. Zelda had taken all of two steps towards the glittering, glowing city when a cry rang out from the rocks around her.

“Halt! Who goes there?”

She froze. The caller had an unusually high pitched voice. Link caught up to her and rested his hand on her forearm in reassurance. He was smiling.

“You may only advance if you can properly recite our password,” declared the voice. Zelda glanced up and noticed faint movements winking in and out from the tops of the rocks. She began to smile as well, especially when the crest of a light grey head tail inadvertently made itself visible for a few seconds.

Link strolled towards the Great Zora Bridge with incredible nonchalance. A slender silver staff suddenly flashed out and blocked his path. “The password! Fluffy white clouds…”

“Clear blue Zora!” he replied, hands on his hips and a huge grin spread across his face.

The heads of three Zora children finally popped out from the rocks. They all shouted with unintelligible excitement upon seeing him and scrambled down. One of them, sporting dark fins and a forehead protector similar to the official Zora guard, swaggered forward in what he clearly thought was a very suave manner.

“The Big Bad Bazz Brigade is officially reunited! The fiercest fighters this side of the lake!” He reached down towards the belt along his hip and withdrew a short training sword. Like everything the Zora made, it was a thing of beauty, even despite the blunted tip: a spotless white blade with vine-like quillions that wrapped themselves around the small agate stones decorating its hilt.

Link nodded appreciatively. “Very nice. So who’s training you, Bazz?”

Embarrassment flickered over Bazz’s face. “Er, nobody yet. I was thinking maybe…”

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Link smiled down at the other children. “How about you? Any other sword fighters waiting in the water here?”

They shook their heads. “We saw you at the last banquet, Link!” The grey-finned Zora was a young girl. She stood slightly thinner and taller than her friends. “Why didn’t you play with us?”

“Sorry, Gaddison. I was busy.”

“What about this time?” asked the final Zora child.

“I don’t know, Rivan…” Link turned around, drawing their attention towards Zelda. “I’d need Princess Zelda’s permission. She's my Commandant, so that means I have to do what she says.”

Zelda looked at the three pairs of eyes quivering before her. She feigned deliberation for a few seconds before responding. “Having witnessed your devotion to protecting Zora’s Domain, I believe that such hardworking guards deserve a break. But I would like to meet with Mipha. If you help me get to her, I’ll be more than happy to allow Link leave.”

The Big Bad Brigade was immediately galvanised into action. Bazz barked orders at his friends, who snatched up their staffs and saluted earnestly. “Our new mission is to take the Hylian Princess to Lady Mipha. Brigade! Formation!”

Zelda finally stepped onto the bridge with her new entourage. She looked over and saw Link holding in his laughter to limited success. “You’ve already convinced the council to lend you three battalions,” he reminded her. “I don’t think they’ll appreciate you stealing away their children as well.”

“I am stealing nothing. It’s an honour to be escorted by these gallant, young knights.”

Gaddison and Rivan perked up and straightened their backs at this. Zelda smiled as Link leaned in, nodding towards Bazz at the front. “He’s Sergeant Seggin’s son. Becoming a Zora Knight is everything to him.”

“Sounds like someone I know.” Zelda tucked her hand around Link’s arm. It most definitely was a habit now. His reaction was subtle, manifesting only in the way his elbow gently pulled her closer.

The Big Bad Bazz Brigade marched them across the bridge, up the stairs, and over to one of the waterfalls that spilled down into the lake below. Zelda recognised Mipha’s scarlet fins at once. She had her lightscale trident in one hand, and she leaned over a smaller figure who splashed at the water flowing past his ankles on the platform. Upon hearing her name, Mipha straightened and turned. Link gently brushed Zelda’s hand from his arm.

For a moment, shock seemed to to have rendered Mipha rigid and speechless. But like a swift stream’s current, it flowed away and she broke into a warm smile, exclaiming nothing but delight and enthusiasm when she greeted them. After the hugging and laughing subsided, she glanced down at her legs. “Now Sidon, don’t be rude. Don’t you remember the princess of Hyrule?”

The little Zora prince gaped up at Zelda until Mipha prodded him, then he hastily bowed, the feathered ornament on his head becoming damp from where it brushed against the water. He tried to hide behind his sister’s legs again, but she dragged him back into view. “Sidon, this is Link. He’s a knight, courageous and noble, just as you will be one day.”

Sidon’s eyes immediately slid towards the Master Sword on Link’s back. “I’m sure we’ll be the best of friends,” Link said.

Mipha picked up her brother’s hand and motioned to the other children. “Let’s show the princess and her knight what we do for fun here in Zora’s Domain! Have you been practising your dives, everyone?”

Zelda soon found herself relaxing on the lowest reachable level of Zora’s Domain, right on the surface of the lake. She gazed up at the underside of the platforms and bridges and couldn’t help but admire how pleasing it was to the eye. Even the foundations of the city were full of elegance and artistry. She leaned against a cool, smooth pillar and allowed her hand to trail in the water.

Mipha came to sit by her, resting her trident upon the floor. It had taken her a little bit of time to encourage Sidon to join the other Zora children in Link’s impromptu training lesson along the opposite shore. Sidon’s long head tail dragged on the grass behind him. He almost stumbled over it as he tried to swing Bazz’s practice sword, but Link caught him before he could tumble into the lake itself. It warmed Zelda’s heart to see her knight being so outgoing and animated around the children. His smile came so much more easily and often while they danced around him, demanding attention and answers.

She ripped her eyes away to focus on Mipha. “Pardon?”

“I asked, how goes your training, Princess?”

Zelda hesitated. Mipha noticed at once, and she grew sad and sombre on Zelda’s behalf. Faint shadows from the waterfalls tumbled across her face. “My apologies, I did not mean to offend…”

“You didn’t,” Zelda quickly said. “Truly. It’s a good question, and pertinent to… well, why we’re here. Link and I just returned from the Spring of Power.”

“And?”

Zelda shook her head.

“Princess, I am so sorry… I wish there was something I could do to help you.”

“Please don’t worry about me.” Zelda glanced out over the lake again. Whatever Link was saying was drowned out by the shouts of the Big Bad Bazz Brigade. Young Sidon hovered behind them. “There is still one more spring,” she said to Mipha. “The Spring of Wisdom. I will be allowed to partake of the pilgrimage once I turn seventeen next month.”

Mipha brightened. “Isn’t that located at the peak of Mount Lanayru?” Zelda affirmed this, and Mipha became more excited. “That isn’t far from here, just beyond Lanayru Great Spring. If you would so wish, Princess, I offer my company as moral support on your pilgrimage.”

Zelda smiled widely. “That would be very appreciated. Thank you so much.”

“And we could invite the other Champions as well.” Mipha picked up her trident, and the agate teardrops hanging off the prongs cast a glitter upon the smooth stone arching over their heads. “I so very much enjoyed meeting all of them at the Inauguration Ceremony. It would be lovely to see them again.”

“Oh yes, of course! I would love that, too.”

The two princesses beamed at each other. Zelda hadn’t been filled with such hope and optimism in so long.

“GET HIM!”

Suddenly, there was a very loud commotion, followed by a dramatic splash. Four much smaller splashes followed suit as the Zora children all dived beautifully into the lake. Link broke through the surface, gasping and flailing before he was mobbed by flapping fins once again. Zelda and Mipha stood and watched as Link was repeatedly dunked over and over again amid giggles and screams.

Zelda couldn’t help laughing. Mipha started to before her face blanched into one of concern. “Stop!”

Link’s head and shoulders finally came into view again, but this time propped up by Bazz and Gaddison. The Big Bad Brigade paddled him over to safety while Sidon trailed behind them, his tiny hands toting the Master Sword after its bearer.

Mipha sighed as the children dragged Link’s unconscious body onto the platform. “You must always remember that Hylians can’t stay underwater as long as we do.” Her fingers glowed silver, and everyone held their breath as she pressed down on Link’s chest.

He spluttered back to life at once, lake water spilling down his chin. The Zora children squealed with simultaneous disgust and delight. Link blearily sat up. He thanked Sidon, who shyly placed the Master Sword beside him before jumping into the water with his sister. Mipha glanced back at Link and Zelda before gliding away, choosing to leave them alone.

Zelda shook her head and leaned over, pushing Link’s hair out of his eyes. “How is it that you practically grew up here but can barely swim?”

“How can you make me compete with the Zora?” he shot back. Zelda removed her hand and let his sopping fringe flop back down over his forehead. He wiped it away himself to reveal dancing lights in his eyes. It was just the reflection of the lake, Zelda told herself, but she couldn’t stop staring.

He tilted his head towards the water. “Let’s see how good you are, then.”

“I can’t just take off my clothes!”

“Then don’t.” His sweet smile suddenly turned devilish. Zelda prepared to scramble back up to the relative safety of the other side of the pillar, but Link seized her wrist, and she lost her balance with just one mighty tug. All her senses were engulfed and overloaded: the rush of coldness sweeping over her skin, clouds of bubbles suffusing her vision, and how all sounds became muffled for a few seconds until she reached the surface, gasping for air.

“My boots, Link!” she complained, treading water. At least she had, blessedly, left her pack containing her field journals up in the inn.

He swam over, looking so wickedly pleased with himself. “They’ll dry eventually.”

“It will take days! We won’t be able to go anywhere.”

He floated on his back, grinning up at the underside of Zora’s Domain. “Oh, what a shame.”

She splashed him and he coughed. “Was that your plan all along? You sneak.”

But she couldn’t stay annoyed at him. He looked so happy and relaxed. Zelda sighed and copied him, kicking out her legs and flipping around so her chin faced up. Her body had adjusted to the water’s temperature now, which was actually very pleasant beneath the warm sun. She spread her arms out in a stretch and felt something brush against her — a hand squeezing hers briefly before letting go.

Zelda closed her eyes and smiled. She felt weightless and free, like a fluffy white cloud in the clear blue sky.

This time, Daruk absolutely refused to allow Zelda and Link to stay in the inn like common tourists. He insisted on the best of Goron hospitality, which not only included the smoothest slabs of stone to sleep on, but also a complete, seven-course, lovingly home-cooked meal. Of the choicest rock, of course.

“All the way from the peak of Death Mountain!” Daruk spooned up what looked like a ladle full of charred pebbles from a cast-iron pot. They scattered onto Zelda’s metal plate with a loud clatter. Daruk inhaled deeply and rumbled with appreciation, but Zelda couldn’t smell a thing other than the white-hot charcoal disentegrating beneath the cooking pot where a hock of sirloin rock simmered. She reached for a bird drumstick instead.

Daruk didn’t mind, or notice, handing the pot back to his son after serving Link as well. The Goron youth smiled timidly at Zelda before hurrying out to set the pot back into a pool of lava to keep warm. Daruk insisted on it, as if the searing heat of Eldin wasn’t enough for the job.

He leaned back in his huge chair and gulped down a spoonful of the pebbles himself, smacking his lips together in satisfaction. “That’s the good stuff. So, what’s been happening with you two? I said to come back soon, but ya had me waitin’ for weeks and weeks!” He leaned in closer, causing the stone table to lean a little. “And with Rudania all perfect and ready for action, I thought you’d take it easy. But both of you’ve been running around like some frantic fireproof lizards. It's pretty hot for a Hylian at the North Mine! Don’t know what’s there to interest you, little princess.”

“I was speaking to one of your engineers about the carts set up over Darunia Lake,” she explained. “We have a few similar structures in the excavation sites in the castle too, but on a much smaller scale. I was wondering if there was any way to set up a network of these tracks not just up here on Death Mountain, but around the other provinces as well. It could be of great assistance to transport goods from place to place, or even as a system to help people move around the continent far more easily. This would really encourage exploration and stronger relations between the nations! We just need to find a way to implement them without having to handle bomb flowers, which are extremely volatile and dangerous to non-Gorons.”

Daruk was impressed. “That’s certainly possible, at least if the other folks can agree. Who’d have thought of it? You’re a sharp one, little princess.”

“Thank you.”

“Your people must be proud. I can see you’re more than ready to take on the throne!” Daruk chuckled. “No offense to your father, of course, long live the King. But no enemy of Hyrule stands a chance against your bright ideas, little princess. That Calamity won’t know what hit it.”

The bites of roasted bird became dry and tasteless in her mouth. Link stopped licking the pebble in his fingers (she was always impressed at his courage concerning Goron cuisine) to glance over at her. Daruk looked between them and stroked his beard.

His voiced softened. “I’ve stepped onto some unstable ground, eh?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Zelda heard herself say. “I still haven’t awakened the power, and that’s all they want.”

Daruk stood and walked to the entrance of his house. Nothing covered it, per Goron tradition. Zelda could see round shapes rolling along the paths and hear boisterous booms of laughter from the other stone slab huts surrounding the glowing lava streams that flowed through the city.

Daruk lifted a boulder-sized fist and leaned it against the top of the frame, smiling at the sight. “I’m no princess with no Goddess’s blood in me, but this is what I know about training. It takes time. A LOT of time! You know how we get diamonds, little princess? You stick an ugly lump of carbon deep into the ground and leave it for years. While it’s in there, that poor rock is going to go through some intense pressure and heat! It takes a real beating, I tell ya.”

He spread his hands. “But when you finally get to pry open those obstinate ores, the precious stuff bursts out from the inside. Not without lots of work and a little bit of luck, though. Take it from a Goron — we don’t care for these shiny things because they’ve no nutritional value, but a diamond is still one of the rarest, luckiest finds! Hylians love it for its beauty, the Sheikah and Gerudo recognise its power, but we Gorons respect the meaning behind a diamond: time, work, and strength.”

He returned to the table and sat down, leaning over to look Zelda in the eye. “It’s gonna take a more time and work, but that’s just how it is. I’ve seen you, little princess. You’re tougher than a diamond — the hardest gem there is. You’re doin’ the work, so we just gotta wait for that bit of luck.”

Daruk smiled and straightened, turning round to the cooking pot in the corner again. Zelda was so deeply moved that she considered maybe tasting a few of her pebbles. Link’s eyes widened in surprise when she picked a few of them up. They were warm and crumbly to the touch. Zelda opened her mouth, summoning her courage.

“HEY! Don’t stuff yourselves too much yet! It’s time for the star of the show!” Daruk returned with his prized rock roast. It was so hot that its surface had split several ways. Zelda could see the molten innards glowing from within the cracks. Daruk beamed as he set the roast down before them, though Zelda and Link had to lean away from the sheer burning heat of it.

“Beautiful,” Daruk breathed. He wiped a tear away, though Zelda suspected that it had probably evaporated the moment it escaped his eyes. He reached over and picked up a cobble crusher. Although the sword seemed delicate and small in the great Goron leader’s hands, Zelda and Link immediately scooted down the table.

Daruk pointed the claymore at them. “So tomorrow, take a load off. Got it? No more research. Go to the hot springs or somethin’. You both deserve a break.”

They voiced their agreement. Daruk nodded in satisfaction, then promptly lifted the crusher and sent it smashing into the rock roast. Link threw himself in front of Zelda as flaming pieces of rock came flying at them. She could hear — and feel — the sizzles of heat sailing past her ears. Daruk laughed in delight as he lifted up a slice of the roast, liquid stone oozing from its centre and solidifying almost instantly as it met the air.

“Who’d like the honour of tasting it first?” Daruk honed in on Link. “Little guy! Just right for a Champion’s appetite.”

Zelda reached for another drumstick.

Chapter Text

“No,” Revali said.

Zelda and Link had only arrived at Rito Village not even an hour before. After paying her respects to the elder, Zelda had sought out the Champion she had selected so many months ago for the great Divine Beast that floated above them. Now they stood on the small platform beside the Sheikah shrine, staring down a nose and beak, respectively, and waiting for the other to give in first.

“He is your colleague,” Zelda said. “An appointed Champion such as yourself. In these times of need, trust and the sharing of intelligence is of utmost importance—”

“I would most certainly agree,” Revali interjected, “except that your royal highness had already recorded a very detailed account of Medoh’s inner workings during your previous visit. The very same time, you made it abundantly clear that the Hylian Champion has no business upon my Divine Beast!”

Zelda felt her cheeks grow warm, and not from the cutting winds that whistled around the mountains. The moment they had arrived, a strong feeling of shame had washed over her despite the beautiful scenery and friendly welcome. She had not treated Link well the last time they were here, so she was determined to wipe that guilt clean by making it up to him. Starting with a tour of Vah Medoh would have been a nice way to do that — Zelda had pictured them standing at the tip of a wing, wind in their hair and the green land of Hyrule spread out beneath them with the trees and animals in adorable miniature.

Luckily, Link didn’t seem too disappointed. He was perched on the wooden railing, eating roasted chickaloo tree nuts. He cracked another shell open, popped the meat into his mouth, and shrugged at her. “I’ve been to all the other Divine Beasts anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.”

Revali turned to him sharply, chest puffing up with indignation. “Are you implying that Vah Medoh is no different, or even inferior to the other Divine Beasts? None of them can even dream of achieving the same range and height, which will surely be of great advantage when the Calamity strikes!”

Link simply shrugged again. Zelda turned away from the fuming Rito. “I suppose it’s a lost cause. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Link allowed her to tug him off the fence by the sleeve, then pull him away from the shrine back to the rest of the village. Zelda saw Revali’s eyes narrow at such a gesture of familiarity. She held her breath, counting quietly in her head, until there was the sound of flapping wings and an irritable huff as Revali flew up and landed before them, blocking their way.

He tossed his head back, braids swinging and ruffling his feathers. “Ugh. Alright. While I understand where you’re coming from, Princess, I refuse to concede to your demands. When you appointed me Champion, you agreed that Vah Medoh is mine to command. I assure you that it is in an excellent state, possibly the best out of the other Divine Beasts since I do not allow so-called heroes waving fancy swords around to wander all over it…”

He cleared his throat at the sight of her glare. “But, I digress. If your knight wishes so dearly to see what it takes to be a great warrior of the Rito… I will allow him to make use of my personal training site.” Revali swept a wing towards the north, indicating a snowy bank on the other side of the lake. Zelda could just barely see the spindly staffs of waving banners over a small path leading into a rocky cliff.

“It’s a very short flight from Komali’s Landing,” Revali said. He smirked down at Zelda and Link. “So I’ll see you there much later, then.”

They squinted against the sudden whirlwind of air that appeared around them as Revali summoned his power, streaking into the sky in the new updraft. He saluted Zelda from above before gliding towards Flight Range.

She looked over at Link, who still seemed very nonchalant about the entire ordeal. He shrugged for a third time. “So, do you want to go?”

“He technically invited you.”

“I’ve really no interest in what Revali has to say,” Link said. “But I'll go if you do. Whatever you want.”

Zelda gripped the railing of the walkway before she could stop herself. Link’s eyes were the same colour of the sky, clear and cloudless. “Okay,” she managed to say.

Although she was not in the least bit surprised at Revali’s smarmy need to get the last word in, he was quite correct that it would take them wingless folk a considerable time before they reached Flight Range. It took Zelda and Link almost half an hour just to wind their way down Rito Village spire, over the bridges, past the Mail Centre and out of Totori Lake, but they weren’t anywhere close to Flight Range. Zelda shielded her eyes against the blinding white snow of Hebra Mountains as Link wriggled into a warm doublet in preparation for their hike.

“I suppose we could ride there,” Zelda commented as they set off. The grass beneath their feet was already beginning to yellow and thin with every step they took north. “But we're already so close. And there’s no shelter for them at Flight Range itself.”

“I’d like to see Revali ride,” Link said. Zelda laughed. Sometimes their rivalry exasperated her to no end, but other times, it was quite funny. Usually these times coincided with Revali not being present.

Conversation faded as they began to deal with more difficult terrain. The snow beneath her boots was powdery, not slippery, but Zelda still reminded herself to be careful. She hadn’t had any trouble with her weakened foot, but here in the cold she swore she felt a very faint throb. Zelda gritted her teeth, hoping Link wouldn’t notice.

“Have you seen the new royal guard weaponry yet?” Perhaps focusing on a different topic would help take her mind off things.

Link kicked at a snowdrift, sending some flying into a tree where it crumbled into small icy particles. “Yes. The sword looks very… strange.”

“It’s the crossguard,” Zelda agreed. “The Master Sword’s design is so iconic that it’s unsettling to see it inverted."

Link nodded. He moved in front of her to break a path in the snow, which was now past their ankles. The sky was clouding over now, and snowflakes floated down to greet them. Zelda shivered, but kept going.

“Before he left, Robbie made sure to send me a prototype of the bow,” she said. “The fact that it can shoot multiple arrows is quite amazing, but they did some odd treatment to the wood itself. I believe it was the dye to distinguish it from the other royal bows, but that means its durability can't possibly be very high. Mine already feels rather brittle."

Link slowed so suddenly that she nearly collided into him. “You shoot?” he asked her. Zelda nodded. “Since when?”

“Since I was twelve.”

Link turned and stared at her, almost accusingly. Zelda blushed and began to explain herself. “I… I was studying the previous princesses very closely at the time. One of the sources I discovered described how there was one who was skilled in ranged combat. She used her powers by summoning arrows of light instead of trying to seal the evil on her own, and that’s how she and her hero defeated it — by fighting together.”

Embarrassment flooded her senses when she made the confession. “I… I was rather enamoured by the possibility that there were other ways to perform my duty. So I convinced my riding master to find me an archery instructor. But almost as soon as I began lessons, my father got wind of my scheme and shut it down. He felt the idea was too niche to be worth following up on, and he also very much did not like the idea of me using weapons.”

“So how good are you?”

Zelda had no idea, as she had barely the time to pick up another arrow since. Link shook his head in amazement. “Well, you’re in luck considering where we’re headed to. Do you feel like picking up where you left off?”

Revali’s training site was tucked behind a towering wall of cliffs. It was just as Zelda had remembered. Updrafts blew up from the bottom of the circular canyon, whipping her hair up in a frenzy around her face. The swirling snowflakes made it hard to see the small structure at the end of the stone pathway, but lanterns winked warmly at them and their bunting flapped loudly in the wind. Link allowed her to climb up the ladder first, and Zelda hoisted herself into the little cottage. It was airy and light like all Rito houses, but with a roaring fire in its centre and woven blankets piled up here and there. Zelda glanced up and saw one of them stretched out in the rafters. It seemed that Revali spent a lot of time here, though not right at this moment.

Link roamed around boldly, peering into chests and examining the trinkets laid out before him. He picked up a swallow bow leaning against he railing and held it out to Zelda. She felt her fingers wrap themselves around the rough weave of the fabric that had been tied around the smooth, curved wood. It was lightweight and supple — a sign of Rito professionalism, and proving to Zelda that there was no better place for her to do this.

She slowly walked over to the platform that lead out of the house and into the canyon itself. Zelda smoothed her hair back in vain as the winds found her once again. She was staring into another tall spire of stone. It looked like an arrow itself, sharpened to a point at the tip and uniformly slender and thin below. Revali had driven several wooden targets into it at haphazard random. Zelda noticed that there were some on the other cliff walls too.

Link appeared at her shoulder with an arrow that she accepted nervously. “Show me your stance.”

Zelda did her best to acquiesce, straightening her spine and raising the bow. She tried to aim perfectly at the target in front of her and nearly jumped when Link reached around to guide her.

"Relax your bow arm,” he said. “Gripping so tightly will only make you lose control. The power will come in the pull. And position yourself perfectly in line with the target." Link gently placed his hand under her elbow and lifted it up.

Zelda drew the string, feeling the braided twine in her fingers go taut as she brought her hand to her cheek. Link moved his hand to the back of her arm. “You don’t need to try to pull more, but if you have enough tension, you’ll be in proper alignment.” He pressed his palm against her. “Resist.”

She did. He was unyielding, pushing back with equal force. Zelda scrounged up more of her strength and threw her shoulders back, knocking him away. She heard him inhale sharply in surprise and wondered what his face looked like.

“Shoot,” he said, and she could hear a smile in his voice.

Zelda loosed the arrow. Its path was visible as it pierced the turbulent gusts of wind and sent snowflakes scattering. The arrow struck one of the wooden targets with such a force that it shattered like glass into a dozen splinters before dropping down into the canyon waters.

She lowered the bow to find Link looking at her with a expression of pride and victory. Zelda felt herself smiling back, her heart and head feeling dangerously light as the wind continued to howl around them.

They were interrupted by a very loud sigh coming from within the house. Zelda and Link turned to see Revali standing under the waving banners, wings folded and eyes narrowed.

“It was in the spirit of alliance and Championship that I so graciously offered this place for training,” he said. “I wasn’t aware that one simply wanted a place to conduct… private affairs. At least the Princess is making some use of my generosity,” he remarked, eyeing the bow in her hands. “But leave it to the hero of Hyrule to let her do all the work instead.”

Before Zelda could say anything, the bow slipped out of her fingers as Link took it. He snatched up a woven blanket laying over the railing of the platform and jumped right off. The strong drafts filled the cloth with air and buffeted him upward. Zelda felt her heart stop when Link suddenly let go of one end, tucking it into his belt and pulling out the bow in one swift movement. His hands were a blur as he notched and loaded arrow after arrow, each one finding its target easily and smashing them into smithereens. Just as it seemed like he would tumble into the depths of the canyon, Link whipped out the blanket again, sailing over to the platform and landing lightly on his feet. He stared down Revali while handing the swallow bow back to to Zelda, his expression still calm. But she had felt the burning energy in his muscles when they touched. 

The Rito Champion rolled his eyes. “How impressive… for a Hylian. I’m starting to think that I may have to recant my challenge as something tells me that the Princess would not like to see her dear knight’s ego so bruised.” He glided down onto the stone ledge below, making a big show of avoiding the updraft. “Take your time, Princess. I’ll see you back at the village.”

He turned his tail on them both and with a tremble of his feathers, summoned his powerful gale to shoot into the sky. Zelda looked back at Link, whose mouth was twisted into a grimace of deep annoyance and possibly regret over losing his temper. He started when she touched his wrist.

“That was amazing,” she said earnestly.

He relaxed at her words. It was hard to see whether his cheeks were rosy from the cold or something else. He handed her another arrow. “Your turn.”

Seeing that Link was not allowed within the walls of Gerudo Town, Zelda took special care in selecting tasks that kept her outside of it for most of the day. It wasn't hard, for the desert was vast and waiting to be explored. And full of treasure, if the rumours were to believed.

“Such luck to be able to go searching out there,” one of Zelda’s nightly Gerudo Warrior bodyguards had commented to her as she prepared to meet Link. “If I had the time, I’d follow the Silent Swordswomen. They’re statues scattered across the desert, remnants of ages long past. People talk about the statues pointing to the hiding place of ancient treasure… but it may be superstition.”

Zelda was sure that this ancient superstition must be connected to the Sheikah. So in pursuit of such treasure, they set out. Vah Naboris made the trek across the sands leisurely and swift. Zelda leaned over the railing of one balcony, luxuriating in the warmth of the sun. She could still feel the intense heat of the desert on her skin, but it pressed against her gently and without discomfort thanks to the sapphire tiara in her hair. Link opted to stay further away from the brightness even as similar gems dangled from his ears. Zelda had gotten them made specifically to order. She was still trying to make it up to him — compared to Rito Village, Gerudo was where Link deserved even more compensation for what he had suffered… at her hands, no less.

The unease of shame had begun to creep slowly into her lungs, but quickly vanished when she spied something through the wavering heat. "Stop! There's something there!"

Urbosa, who was watching from her seat on the cushions in the shadowy recesses of the balcony, raised her fingers and snapped. Naboris shuddered to a stop. Link wrinkled his nose at the great cloud of dust that immediately rose up from its legs.

Zelda gazed down at the pillars and walls that appeared out of the sand beneath them. This was a fairly common sight throughout the desert, these tiny and sad remnants of what must have been the proud Gerudo nation. Of course, they were still proud with a most vibrant culture, but the astounding reach and endurance of the ruins struck Zelda with awe. The history of this region was buried so deeply that most of it was merely conjecture — the common appearances of massive bleached bones emerging from the shifting dunes adding yet another layer of mystery and might. How cruel that its fate had been left to a burning wind, punishing the land with a blanket of sand so that the secrets of the past continued to remain secret.

But Zelda was determined to unearth at least a few of them. She grabbed the Sheikah Slate and ran down Naboris’s ramp towards the ground, Link following at her heels. These ruins were in far better shape than the other random structures littered across the landscape. One of them still had its second storey intact, though the roof had been lost to time.

She slid down a dune to duck beneath it. Zelda brushed her fingers along the pillars, trying to feel for any engravings or irregularities. Even if she couldn’t read or understand the glyphs, perhaps there was someone in town who did.

There was a loud squawking nose and the unpleasant sound of flesh giving into sharp steel. Zelda looked up as Link finally joined her, wiping the Master Sword clean and tucking a still-twitching lizalfos tail into his pouch.

Zelda pointed to the other side of the structure. “Look, another statue. So we’re still on track!”

“Okay,” he said. Even with some heat resistance, Link did not particularly enjoy the desert. But he was determined to keep up with her. The suggestion to stay up on Naboris with Urbosa while Zelda explored on her own had been met with a withering glare.

Zelda held up the Sheikah Slate to capture the worn features of the swordswoman. Strangely, the screen was filled with fuzzy static. Zelda frowned and tapped the buttons, but nothing changed.

“Zelda,” a voice called out faintly from above. She and Link looked out of the ruin. Vah Naboris was already just a grainy silhouette against the blank sky. “Link! Return now. A sandstorm is coming.”

They obeyed instantly. Zelda winced at the particles of sand peppering her skin as she and Link waded through the sand. Urbosa was standing at the top of the ramp when they got there, and she snapped her fingers once they were safely inside. Zelda could feel Naboris stretching its long, long legs and raising them high, out of the worst of the storm.

“We don’t want a repetition of before, do we now?” Urbosa said. Link let out a toneless chuckle, and Zelda turned hotfeather red. Urbosa put an arm around each of their shoulders and guided them towards the stomach of the Divine Beast. She left them by the bulbous main control unit to steer Naboris from above. Zelda tried to ask her to stay, but Urbosa gave her a wink and a slight smile before gliding up the stairs without a single glance back.

Link plopped on the bottom step of a stair, shaking out his tunic for the sand. Zelda sat down at this side. She took care to keep a few inches of space between them, but she could still feel warmth from his body rolling off his skin. The last time she had noticed this was, again, in this very desert. Zelda bit her lips and stared at her feet.

Link glanced over at her. “You’re thinking about last time,” he said.

Zelda nodded, still keeping her chin down near her chest. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“We’ve done this already,” he said. “It’s in the past.”

“You’ve never actually forgiven me,” she pointed out. “And considering your tone of voice, I’m not sure if I’d even believe it.”

Link frowned. “Alright. I forgive you.”

“What, just like that? Impossible.”

“You’re impossible,” he said. “You ask me to forgive you, and I do. Then, you say I can’t. Which one do you want?”

“I want to know your honest feelings, without the threat of my higher rank hanging over your head.”

“With all due respect, Princess, you can’t tell me how to feel.”

Her vocal cords constricted at his frank statement. “Then… how do you feel?”

“Hot,” he sighed, leaning back to lie on the ascending stairs. Indeed, his cheeks were flushed pink. Zelda leaned her cheek on her hand, staring out of the open exits to the darkened sky.

“A hydromelon slice does sound good right now,” she said. Link groaned.

Vah Naboris lurched and lunged. Its unique mechanisms kept Zelda and Link level as Urbosa guided them out of the sandstorm with her steady hand. After a while, she finally deemed it clear enough for them to leave the sanctuary of the Beast’s interior. Zelda peered over the balcony again and gasped in delight. “I think that’s it!”

She felt immensely satisfied that her prediction was correct: the familiar chimney-like shape of an ancient Sheikah shrine sat nestled within the ribcage of a long-gone monster. Zelda sensed Link’s surprise when she marched past it. She had tried her luck too many times at these shrines to no avail. But there could be other important clues that weren’t just the shrine itself. Zelda knelt down. Wide, shallow steps lead down to the smooth, flat floor beneath her feet. She could see broken pillars and chunks of architecture buried in the sand around her. The final swordswoman was only a few metres away, housed under an intact stone shelter. A magnificent, if not crumbling, archway stood behind the shrine. Zelda recorded all these details in her field journal. Historic days ago, the shrine had been discovered and enervated enough that the ancient Gerudo had built something around it. Something big. If she could narrow down the era, perhaps there would be a record in the Gerudo Palace library pertaining to its purpose, which in turn could hold the key to activation…

By the time Urbosa called down to her again, the day had grown late. Link pulled himself up from where he had been leaning against the Guidance Stone. Zelda could tell right away that he was very, very tired. The desert truly drained him.

“Come on,” she said, slipping her hand around his elbow again. He allowed her to take him back to the Divine Beast. Zelda watched as Link flung off the Master Sword’s scabbard and dropped to the collection of carpets and cushions at their favourite balcony. Zelda lit the lantern as twilight gave way to velvet night.

“It’s several hours back to Kara Kara Bazaar,” she said to him. “Get some rest.”

He nodded slowly, eyes already closed. Zelda watched over him from the head of the carpet. She studied his body language, feeling a jolt of amusement at how her stern and mature knight reverted back into youthfulness under the spell of sleep: limbs relaxed and splayed out, and his hair falling like a mess out of its ponytail and all over his face.

She reached down to brush a few strands out of his mouth, when suddenly, his eyelids flickered. Link’s blue eyes gazed up at her half-lidded before exhaustion closed them again, and he leaned his cheek into her hand. Zelda’s heart was hammering wildly in her chest. She was, quite effectively, trapped beside him now. Link’s head weighed heavily against her palm, and she could feel the pressure of his lips against the tips of her fingers.

She barely noticed when Urbosa quietly settled down near her. Zelda’s godmother was careful not to disturb her connection with Link. “That boy adores you,” she whispered into Zelda’s ear. “You know that, don’t you?”

Zelda could only squeak out something about Link’s duty to the kingdom, and Urbosa shook her head, snickering softly through her sigh.

“I’ll save this conversation for when we meet again,” she promised Zelda. “To think that my little bird has grown into her wings, poised to fly to Mount Lanayru in just three days' time.”

Zelda squeezed her eyes closed. The warmth she had been feeling for Link ebbed away at the cold unease trickling down her spine at the thought. “It’s… it’s too soon.”

Urbosa hugged her tightly. “You can do it. We all believe in you.”

But Zelda turned away to look up at the glimmering constellations in the night. To her despair, even the stars spread out in a path towards the east. Her destiny awaited there, at the Spring of Wisdom.

It was with a fearful and heavy heart that Zelda mounted her stallion at Gerudo Canyon Stable and began the long ride back to Hyrule Castle to prepare for her much anticipated pilgrimage to Mount Lanayru. Link had done an excellent job distracting her for the past month, but with the day approaching quite literally just over the horizon, there was no ignoring it now. The pressure of it all bore down on her like the glaring sunlight that slid past the cliffs on each bend in the canyon as they rode forth. Zelda thought about all the people dear to her heart.

The Champions. Each of them had responded enthusiastically to Mipha’s suggestion — except for Revali, who had of course only given a lofty perhaps, Princess — and would escort her and Link to, then wait at Lanayru East Gate. Zelda couldn’t imagine better company to celebrate her birthday with, but celebrations would be suspended until she finished the rites at the spring. Knowing that her dear friends would be keeping such faithful vigil at the base of the mountain filled her with more distress.

Her father. She had not talked to him since their fight on the walkway. They had exchanged vapid words about the weather, about their meals, about Chancellor Cole’s ridiculous new honeyvore bear pelt cloak, but nothing of substance had been shared. Zelda dreaded facing him in only a few hours at the castle. But perhaps he didn’t even want to see her — summons from the castle had been surprisingly absent during her and Link’s excursion to the provinces. Perhaps the King was so fed up with her attitude that he had decided to ignore her until she unlocked this power. Zelda wasn’t sure how this made her feel. Certainly not happy.

And… Link. She could sense him right on her heels as they cantered down the winding corridors of the canyon. The meaning of his name had changed so much for her in just less than a year. Zelda could not find words for it. Whenever she tried to, something burst into flame inside her chest and grew so intense that it almost frightened her. She hid behind commands and teases when speaking to him so that the truth wouldn’t spill out. But they licked the roof of her mouth sometimes, especially when he smiled at her.

Zelda was so overwhelmed by these thoughts that she didn’t notice when the reins in her hands suddenly lurched to one side. Her stallion was making a beeline for a tuft of grass that had miraculously sprouted from the parched ground. She could feel its flanks quivering with exertion and hear his thirsty pants, but Zelda didn’t think before she yanked on the rein. “No, this way!”

Its head jerked back and her horse snorted angrily in response. Zelda felt her grip loosen as her stallion suddenly reared, as if to buck her off, then raced down towards the cooling sprays of the Regencia River before she could gather herself. Zelda heard Link shout behind her as she slid off her saddle to the side when the stallion careened left. She was left clinging to its sweaty, slick neck for dear life with only one foot in the stirrup and the opposite hand tangled in the reins. Zelda bit down a scream as she heard the gushing waters rush over her head.

She blinked and squinted against the speeding ground below her: wooden planks of the bridge, packed soil of the islands, occasional grasses and wildflowers to mock her position. It was only at the largest island when the stallion finally slowed, stomping down the grasses and breathing heavily. Zelda quickly disentangled herself and jumped down.

“What was that for?” she said to it. If horses could have facial expressions, this one would have certainly been glowering at her. Instead, it shook its mane haughtily and walked away.

Link arrived the next second, breaking into a run as soon as he hit the ground. He grabbed Zelda’s arms so urgently that for a moment, it seemed like he was going to crush her against him. But he steadied himself and asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, but…” Zelda turned to glare at her noble steed, who was purposefully not making eye contact and already chewing on the grass. “I don’t know what’s gotten into this one.”

Link walked over. The stallion snorted and tried to turn away, but he began to rub small circles on the horse’s neck, murmuring gently to it. Eventually, Link was able to reach for the reins and guide the horse reluctantly back to its rider.

“I think it’s feeling a bit underappreciated,” he said to Zelda. “So be sure to take the time to soothe your mount. That’s the only way it will know how you truly feel.”

He stepped back as Zelda stared into dark eyes set against the pure white coat. She could sense the nervousness, the desire to shy away and flee, all mixed together with some hurt and resentment. This was one of her only true companions along all her journeys, a loyal soul who had done everything she asked and more, occasionally risking its life and taking the lead in situations to make sure they achieved safety and success together.

Rather like Link.

Zelda reached up and began to stroke the stallion’s neck. She ran her fingers beneath its cropped mane, gently combing out the short strands. She could feel its muscles relaxing as she spoke to it in a low voice.

“I’m sorry for my impatience,” Zelda said. “And my impulsions, and tendency to assume. I admire you greatly. Your service has always gone above and beyond, and sometimes I know I don’t deserve it. Thank you for staying with me and waiting for me to catch on. I know that I’m rather awful at that, but I’m trying to be a bit more empathetic. Benefit of the doubt, you know?”

The stallion blinked slowly at her before nodding its head slightly. Zelda took a deep breath. “I never… want anyone to replace you. You’re one of the few precious things in my life.”

She dared herself to look over at Link. He was still holding onto the rein, but his knuckles had gone white with tension as he stared at her with wide eyes. Perceptive as always, Zelda thought. She swallowed. “Do you… do you think he understood me?”

It took a few moments before he slowly nodded. Zelda licked her lips distractedly. “Your advice was quite helpful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he almost whispered.

He gave her the reins and held out his hand too boost her back into the saddle. Zelda forced herself to pretend not to notice his eyes on her as she swung up. Link stayed by the stallion, waiting for her to be properly seated before returning to his own horse.

They could have cut through Hyrule Field amongst the farms and garrisons, but Zelda was loath to end her leave so soon. Instead, they continued along the river, slowing their pace to a gentle walk.

Zelda was eager to put the awkwardness of their previous conversation behind them. “This one and I are getting along quite well now. Did you know? The royal stable master actually caught him very near here, at Safula Hill. You’re a wild one, aren’t you?” She reached down and patted the stallion’s neck soothingly again. “At first, I wasn’t sure if I should outfit him with all of the royal gear. I thought maybe he should have to earn it first. But it works. He wears it like a true natural.” Zelda smiled when she saw the pointed ears twitch her way. “You look majestic. Truly, you do.”

Link kept quiet. He hadn’t said much since her… confession, but he listened intently. Sometimes, the ghost of a a smile would flit across his face as he regarded her. This only spurred Zelda to fill the air with more words. The fire in her chest burned almost painfully.

It was nearing sunset when they reached Sanidin Park. Zelda dismounted and tied her reins to the available post. Sanidin Park was a very modest site, its size undercut by allowing the road to pass through it, though there had been an attempt to lend some extravagance with erected pillars. The only feature of note was the large horse statue that presided over the small fountain, its hind legs firmly on the pedestal and mane frozen in mid-shake, a sculpted detail in the bronze. But the park did have a fine view of Hyrule Field and the surrounding landmarks. Zelda walked to the edge of the raised ledge.

“See that mountain? That’s Mount Lanayru.”

“Nayru…?”

She nodded. “It takes its name from the Goddess of Wisdom. Lanayru’s decree is very specific. It says, ‘No one is allowed under the age of seventeen, for only the wise are permitted a place upon the mountain.” She inhaled deeply. “And tomorrow is my seventeenth birthday.”

Silence answered her, the soft silence of the wild: a soft breeze brushing her face, the rustle of leaves, the glimmer of trickling water in the fading light, and the last breath of wildflowers releasing their sweetness before the day ended.

Link was still standing a few feet behind her. He seemed to be watching her against the sun. “Seventeen seems far too young to be deemed wise,” he said. “Trust me, I’m seventeen.”

“Would you rather I wait until I was seventy instead?” she asked. That made him smile.

She had prayed at the Spring of Courage and at the Spring of Power, yet neither had awoken anything inside her. But maybe up there… perhaps at the Spring of Wisdom, the final of the three, would be the one.

Zelda heard Link shuffle his feet n the wooden planks of the platform. To be honest, she had no reason to think that would be the case, but there was always the chance that the next moment would change everything.

As she thought those words, the setting sun hit the peak of the fabled mountain. It was like a golden fruit being pierced by a sharp point, spilling the juices across the sky in streaks of light. Zelda winced and turned away from it. Her eyes met Link’s, and he held out his hand.

It was time to return to their designated places: on the road back to Hyrule Castle, where the kingdom awaited her. A collective held breath as she came of age to join her predecessors in upholding wisdom, truth, and sacred understanding of who she was, and how to save her people.

Tomorrow was her seventeenth birthday. Then, she would go and make her way up the mountain. 

Chapter Text

Link arrived at the princess’s bedroom and knocked. It opened almost at once. Princess Zelda’s pale face appeared in the crack. “Oh,” she said. “Is it time?”

“Mipha said they would be at Lanayru West Gate at dawn.”

She sighed and pulled the rest of the door open. She was fully dressed already and sported shadows beneath darting, nervous eyes. Link didn’t have to ask her how she’d slept the night before. He offered her his arm, and they walked down the tower together. They were not alone. The castle’s many retainers were busy preparing for the day as well, but none of them paid much heed to the knight and princess.

A yawning attendant was waiting with their horses by the second gatehouse. They would ride first into West Necluda before making their way towards the mountain. Princess Zelda’s shoulders drooped as she sat in the saddle, but she did stir once her stallion began to walk down the sloping path. When they reached the main gates, Link happened to glance up at the ramparts over it. Captain Chard’s face was only half-lit from the smoldering lantern by his side, but Link knew that he could see down onto the path just fine. They locked eyes just before Link lost him to the underside of the gate. He twisted around to look back, but his father was already retreating into a turret along the wall.

They had shared a very strange conversation last night.

Link and the princess had returned to the castle in the evening. After seeing Princess Zelda off to her quarters, Link had gone down to the Guard Chamber to retire, seeing how they would be having a very early start come morning. But when he walked in, someone clamped a hand on his shoulder before he could even take off the Master Sword.

“Captain’s called for you,” Leigh told him.

Link turned and made the long trek back up the winding corridors of the castle. As an important member of the royal household, the Captain of the King’s Guard was given his own room closer to his liege to better serve him. Link raised his fist and knocked tentatively on the plain, oaken door.

“Enter.”

Link did. He was hit with a sudden wave of familiarity, despite the fact that he had never slept a night in this room. But it reminded him an awful lot of the one he’d grown up in: a narrow and spartan chamber whose contents were there for function, not decoration. There was a desk pushed against one wall that rivalled Princess Zelda’s in the piles of papers collected there, though the inkwell was capped and pens carefully set in a line beside it. Weapons were properly mounted on the wall along with the brightly painted, but also deeply scuffed Hylian shield. And there was the simple box bed that lay beneath a narrow window that looked out upon Hyrule Forest Park and where the castle moat merged with the Hylia River. It had been a long time since Link had been in a bed like that.

His father got up from where he had been sitting on the edge of said bed. “Mount Lanayru?” he asked. Link nodded. “What time?”

“Around 3 AM.”

Chard’s mouth twisted into a frown. “That’s only in a few hours. Well, I won’t waste your time…”

His words trailed off and he stared at Link. Who stared back. For a good minute, the two soldiers merely stood there and looked at each other. This seemed like the very definition of wasting time, but Link wasn’t about to debate with his Captain — and he trusted that there was a good reason for him being there.

“It will be cold,” Chard finally ventured.

Link nodded.

“Be prepared.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t stay long.”

“No, sir.”

Chard just kept looking at him, then held out his hand. Link reached for it, but instead of giving him a soldierly shake, his father raised it to touch the top of Link’s head. Link felt fingers gently running through his hair, stopping just under his ears. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this… yes, he could. He had been twelve. They had been leaving Zora’s Domain together for the final time. In another year and a half, Link had left the barracks for the military training camp, never to return to and share a room with his father ever again.

This was yet another separation. Like the others, mandated by somebody else and unavoidable.

Chard’s hand was still at the back of Link’s neck. He suddenly pulled his son in close and Link felt shock course through his body at the way it reacted to such a close embrace after such a long time. But he couldn’t even enjoy this — panic jolted through his mind. Why was he doing this now? Was something about to happen? How did he know?

“You’ll take care of the princess,” Chard said into his hair.

“Yes.”

Chard kept holding him tightly. He spoke one last time in a gruff voice. “Champion of Hyrule.”

Link swallowed the tiny screaming child that desperately tried to claw its way out of his throat as he officially took his leave. It railed against his teeth again as he followed the princess through the shadowy roads of Castle Town, their reflections flitting across dark windows and the sound of each horse’s footstep ricocheting off the cobbles.

Once out of the town proper, they broke into a faster pace. The stars shone softly in the sky overhead as they whipped past farms and through smaller villages. The country awoke much earlier than townsfolk. Link could see hovering shadows making their ways into the fields from the lights spilling out of their homes. But he had little time to observe as he followed Princess Zelda westward through the Dueling Peaks. Though stable hands hailed them cheerfully from the glow of their lanterns, they didn’t stop there, turning towards the sloping path towards Kakariko Village. Wooden eyes carved into the archways above them teared up with morning dew, glistening through ribbons of mist.

Kakariko Village was still dark and quiet, but the lanterns glowed red to mark their path towards the open area before Impa’s house. The guards posted there moved to assist Princess Zelda in dismounting her stallion. She hurried up the steps, and Link followed. Just as they reached the top, the doors opened.

“Princess? …Linky!” An immediately recognisable, high-pitched squeal greeted them like a horn’s fanfare. “You two always have just the perfect timing.”

“Doctor, please,” came another familiar voice. “I’m sure they have come to meet with Lady Impa on serious business, not to…”

“Stop selling yourself short, Robbie. Our research is very, very serious.” Purah readjusted her glasses after giving the princess a huge hug. “Weren’t you sighing about the lack of worthy test subjects for your newfangled armour idea? Well, look who the goddesses dropped into our laps.”

Link looked over at Princess Zelda, who looked the closest to smiling she’d been all morning. “Just don’t go too far. We won’t be staying long.”

“We’ll be right here,” Purah assured her as she dragged Link back down the stairs. She finally let go of him by a smoldering fire opposite of the house, sheltered beneath a tree beside the Goddess Statue pond. Purah shooed a wandering cucco away while Robbie took out a tape measure.

“Hm, well, if the princess really doesn’t mind…” He began to circle Link, prodding at his arms until he stretched them out. Robbie held up the measure here and there, muttering to himself and jotting down notes. “Since the King has released me from royal duties, I’ve been free to pursue projects of far more, hm, experimental natures. My desire is to use what I’ve learned from the Guardian technology to create better armour. It’s the only natural course to take, seeing that the Guardians themselves are walking weapons, so to speak.”

The measuring tape in his fingers went slack as Robbie’s forehead creased. Purah shook her head, pulling out a rice ball from her robe and taking a chomp. “Don’t worry,” she told him. “The remaining crew at the castle are taking care of your mechanical children just fine. Speaking of personal projects,” she added, throwing Link another rice ball, “I’ve taken some new ambitions too! I want to know if it’s possible to invent our own runes for the Sheikah Slate. We must always move forward instead of relying on our ancestors’ hard work alone.”

Link couldn’t help but feel a twist of surprise at how easily the Sheikah had moved on from their dismissal from the castle. Purah, Top Researcher and Observer of Body Language, took one look at him and chuckled. “Don’t worry,” she repeated. “Haven’t you listened to a single sentence that comes out of my sister’s mouth? The Sheikah will never leave Hyrule stranded. Impa has already organised squadrons to dispatch immediately should they need to. They can jump into battle at any moment, or devote themselves to protecting civilians from becoming collateral damage. Kings and farmhands alike, they’re still Hylians. And the Sheikah serve Hylia’s people.”

“I hope it won’t come to that,” Link said. Purah and Robbie agreed fervently.

He turned and saw Princess Zelda descending the stairs with Impa. She was wearing her white dress and gold accessories. She looked neither pleased nor disheartened at the task ahead, her face a carefully crafted mask of calm when they reunited. Still, she kept one hand covering the back of the other. Old habits would be hard to break.

Impa greeted Link warmly, then turned back to the princess. “I will keep your travelling clothes and the Sheikah Slate safe until your return,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t need them?”

“Oooh!” Purah danced forward, stars in her eyes. “Then it’s alright to examine the Slate while you’re away? Just a few tests, nothing that will change its functions or anything else you’ve stored on it.”

Impa frowned. “Purah, please.”

“That’s fine,” Princess Zelda said. She finally smiled as Purah cackled and clapped her hands in joy. “I look forward to your findings.”

Impa’s expression softened. “And we look forward to greeting you after your pilgrimage,’ she said, touching the princess’s shoulder. “Do remember that the future is mutable, and what happens today does not define you.”

“You’ll be fine!” Robbie chirped. Impa blinked at this, but she smiled too.

“Yes, you will,” she said to Princess Zelda. All three Sheikah bowed to her as she and Link began to walk up the hill that would lead them to Lanayru West Gate.

The great stone arch was visible even from a distance, and so were the three figures that stood waiting beneath it. Link saw the princess’s face brighten again, and not because of the rising sun’s rays spilling over the hillsides.

“Little Princess!” Daruk cupped his hands around his mouth in a very unnecessary motion as he bellowed down the path. “Happy birthday!”

Mipha had jumped slightly in alarm at the sudden shout, but she broke into a beaming smile too. “Yes, wishing you only the best today. I’m so happy we can be here with you.” Her eyes darted over to Link, but then she turned and made an effort on focusing on the princess.

Urbosa waited calmly until Link and Princess Zelda had properly reached them before pulling her goddaughter in for a tight embrace. “You have grown in stature, strength, and wisdom in all the years I’ve known you,” she said to her. “I cannot think of a worthier contender to ascend the mountain.”

Princess Zelda glowed at the heartfelt greetings. She walked forward into Lanyru Promenade with her chin raised with Urbosa and Daruk beside her, large figures looming over a tiny one. Link followed a few paces behind, and Mipha fell into step with him.

“Do you think she is ready?” she asked softly, to avoid her words echoing off the carved walls of the promenade.

“Yes.”

Mipha looked at the flowing water beside them. The leaves floating on its surface twirled in the current. “And her powers…”

“Yes.”

She stopped talking. Link looked ahead of him. Princess Zelda, with her yellow hair and white dress, looked like a star twinkling in and out of the shadows.

“The two of you are very alike,” Mipha said when they were nearly at the end of the promenade. Link was startled to hear her voice again. “I’ve found myself moved to such awe at all that you’ve done, even against a wave of doubt from others. She’s gone through so much of the same, if not more. It’s hard to resist such a feeling…” She sighed, long and sad. “So, I understand.”

Link almost stopped walking. But Mipha simply smiled at him, keeping her gaze downcast as she straightened out her sash. “Come on, we need to catch up.”

They all paused beneath the East Gate, standing just as tall and strong as its twin in the West. Daruk took great care to lighten his touch as he patted Princess Zelda’s shoulder, and Urbosa gave her one final hug. Princess Zelda turned around when Mipha hurried forward and grasped her hand. “May the Goddess smile upon you,” she said as Link finally joined them.

“Do you have everything you need?” Urbosa asked him. He nodded. “Then we will be waiting here.”

Link looked back at his friends as he followed the princess through the gate. Daruk had already sat himself down on a rock, stretching his legs. Urbosa leaned against one of the walls, peering up at the moss-covered carvings above her head. Mipha was the only one still watching them, and she raised a hand to wave.

Link and Princess Zelda walked down a curved stone path through a small birch grove, birds twittering in the light of morning over their heads. The grass was green and thick here, nearly obscuring the bank of a small lake. But the path ended at a tiny gap between a wall of boulders. Frost already collected on its surface. Link and the princess pulled on coats for warmth before he boosted her over the ledge and into Naydra Snowfield.

The difference could not be starker. The world changed from green and blue to white and grey. The pine trees dotting the distance between them and Mount Lanayru had needles so dark they almost seemed black, and the snow upon their branches were thick. The monotony was broken up here and there by the bold caps of chillshrooms and pale lavender buds of safflina that just barely managed to poke out of the drifts. The path was completely covered before them, but Link managed to find it. Feeling out for packed earth, not springy grass, beneath the snow was a dangerous but sufficient strategy.

He knew that they were finally on the mountain when hewn steps appeared before them on the path. Snow began falling more heavily as they climbed them. The way was steep and winding, slowly taking them higher and higher along the edge. Link saw huge formations of ice jutting out of the ground, and white-furred wolves darted away whenever they drew closer. He kept on his guard for other creatures that might do the princess harm, but the most were just ice chuchus and small frost taluses that were easy to outpace. After a certain height, Link found himself looking out for the wily lizalfos that buried themselves in the deep snowdrifts. He wondered, after another tripped off the ledge to its doom again, why a challenge of wisdom required so much physical endurance and fighting.

Princess Zelda had been very quiet for most of this. She barely even registered the monsters that lunged at her, which could have been a sign of her trust in Link but more likely, he suspected, of her intense concentration upon the task ahead. They were only perhaps a third up the mountain when her foot slipped on a particularly icy step. Link slid down and helped her up. She finally blinked up at him through the snowflakes collecting on her eyelashes, and it made his heart quiver. He worked his gloved fingers through hers when they resumed their walk and was rewarded with a squeeze around his palm.

Even with his help, the climb was difficult for her. The wind blew harder as they rose, and the snow was up to their calves. They were over halfway to the top when Link spied shelter in the form of a small thicket of trees. He tugged on Princess Zelda’s arm, and she followed him there.

“What time is it?” she asked as she tried to look up at the cloud-covered skies. The fire beside them melted the snow on the ground and their boots.

“Not yet eleven.”

“Feels like longer.” She rested her head against his shoulder, eyelids drooping. Link wanted to cover her and let her sleep until sunset, but that wasn’t an option. So he nudged her awake again, telling her to look away.

“Why?”

“You’ll find out.”

She probably smelled it before he allowed her to see. Princess Zelda gasped in surprise at the cake before her. “For me?”

“It’s… your birthday.”

She’d already stuffed half the slice into her mouth. “Don’t make fun of me. It’s my favourite!”

“I know.” He smiled at the energy she’d regained in a single bite. The princess licked her lips and sighed contentedly. Link put an arm around her shoulders and drew her in closer; she didn’t resist, even burrowing into him a little bit.

“Did you make it?”

“Yes.”

“I knew you could use that cookbook.” She laughed and he could feel the vibration of it against his collarbone. If he kissed her, she would taste like wildberries and cream. Instead, Link helped her stand up so they could continue their journey to the peak of the mountain.

It turned out that they weren’t too far. In less than an hour, Link and the princess found themselves with nowhere else to climb. Just around a pile of boulders was the Spring of Wisdom itself. Like its sisters, its waters spilled out from a mysterious source, spilling over a ledge in a shallow waterfall cleaved by a stone plinth. Instead of cave walls or old trees, this spring was surrounded by jagged pillars of crystal that leaned in towards the Statue of the Goddess herself, whose rounded wings remained snow-free from the shelter.

Link stepped forward, but Princess Zelda didn’t move. He looked back and saw her eyes wide with fright.

“I’ve seen this before,” she said.

“How? It’s the Spring of Wisdom.”

The princess lowered her eyes, as if she was embarrassed to share the next piece of news. “In a dream.” She described it to him, a nightmare from a long time before that she had never understood.

“Have you had any other dreams like it?”

Her fingers flexed nervously in his. “Two nights ago. In a place consumed by darkness, a lone woman gazed at me, haloed by blinding light. I sensed she was... not of this world. I don't know if she was a fairy or a goddess, but she was beautiful. Her lips spoke urgently, but her voice did not reach me.”

“You didn’t recognise her.” Princess Zelda shook her head. Link, of course, had no experience at all with prophetic dreams. He just wanted her to stop shaking. “What can I do?” he asked.

She finally looked up and cast her gaze past him to the waiting Statue. “Nothing.”

They slowly made their way to the plinth. Link gave her the cold resistance elixirs before she shed her coat. He held her hand until she let go in the water, blinking with surprise. “It's warm,” Princess Zelda said.

“Are you sure that isn’t the elixir speaking?”

She threw a mild scoff over her shoulder at him, and he found himself smiling at the way the crystals dropped rainbows into her hair when she positioned herself before the Statue.

But it quickly melted away as they settled back into the old, familiar, unpleasant routine of waiting. The princess bent her head and grew still, concentrating on her meditations and waiting for the powers within her to awaken. Link stood on the plinth, Master Sword drawn, scanning the area. Minutes dragged by. He stole a look around at her. The lonely wind created ripples on the surface of the water, dragging the skirt of her dress with it. She shivered briefly at the intrusion, but otherwise remained motionless.

Link did not consider himself to be very religious at all. His belief in Hylia and the Golden Goddesses stemmed more from fact rather than faith — dragons and sealing swords aside, he had witnessed very few miracles. His experience with prayer had been nothing more than observances and now, a generous dose of anxious skepticism as he looked at Princess Zelda’s small and pale form beneath the glittering crystal walls above her.

But all they could do now was appeal to a higher power. So Link slowly, quietly, and carefully set his sword down onto the ground. It scraped faintly against the stone, soft enough that it did not disturb the princess. Link ducked his head against the cold, seeing his breath puff out before dissipating over his boots as he knelt. He didn’t know how to pray, so he just asked. For a real miracle. For her.

Neither of them moved for hours. The sun took its course across the heavens, sometimes blinding in the way it illuminated the pure white snow around them, and at others disappearing behind fat clouds that threatened snow and sleet. Link’s knees and ankles ached, but if Princess Zelda could handle this damned mountain then so could he.

He heard a sound before him. Link looked up and saw the princess moving. She turned from the Statue without a second glance back at it, her face obscured by the long curtains of her yellow hair and knees churning the water up in large splashes as she made her way back to him. Link helped her up onto the plinth and immediately bundled her wet body up in a blanket. Her skin was still warm to the touch.

He took one look at her and knew the answer. Princess Zelda’s eyes were downcast but dry, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders before burying her face into his chest. Link hugged her as close as he could.

They stayed this way for several moments. Then, she lifted her head and murmured in his ear. “Link.”

“Yes?”

“Let me go.”

He obeyed reluctantly. Princess Zelda continued to act strangely serene as she put on her warm clothes. The elixirs must have done their jobs well since she didn’t bother fastening the buttons on her coat, allowing the flimsy white dress beneath it to flap in the wind. She turned to Link and her green eyes were clear but empty. This time, she held out her hand and he accepted.

Never once did she lose her composure on the long, sad trek down. Link already saw their friends halfway down the mountain, four differently shaped figures standing beneath the arch of the great gate, their forms backlit by the setting sun. Only their Champion clothes stood out, a brilliant and bright blue amidst all else.

He and the princess left behind the wintry world of Mount Lanayru with the grass giving way to stone beneath their feet. The Champions’ shadows met them before they themselves did, stretching further across the ground as the sun sank lower in the west.

Daruk’s face was lined with deep concern. “Well? Don’t keep us in suspense! How’d everything go up there on the mountain?”

Princess Zelda stopped walking. She stared into the distance as she shook her head.

There was only the sound of his chains clinking together as Daruk visibly deflated. Revali stepped forward. His eyes were glittered like gems. Link was ready to defend her, but the Rito Champion’s voice was surprisingly soft as he spoke. “So you didn’t feel anything? No power at all?”

“I’m sorry,” Princess Zelda said. She folded her hands over the front of her skirt, still speaking with that unnerving quiet tone. “No.”

He and Daruk exchanged glances. Sunlight glared off of Urbosa’s gold bangles as she lifted her chin. “Then let’s move on. You’ve done all you could. Feeling sorry for yourself won’t be of any help. After all, it’s not like your last shot was up there on Mount Lanayru.”

Daruk nodded eagerly while she continued. “Anything could finally spark the power to seal Ganon away! We just have to keep looking for that…” Urbosa’s voice faltered briefly as she searched for the right word. “…thing.”

The princess’s gaze remained fixed on the ground as she responded listlessly. “That’s kind of you. Thank you.”

They all continued to stand there and surround her. Link felt frantic energy thickening the air. Everybody wanted nothing more than to reassure and console the princess, but Urbosa was right: there wasn’t much they could do here, especially when she had closed herself off so.

“If I may…” Mipha finally spoke up. She didn’t try to force the princes to look at her, even tilting her own head forward slightly so she was pondering the same patch of grass. “I thought you — well, I’m not sure how to put this into words. I’m actually quite embarrassed to say it, but I was thinking about what I do when I’m healing.”

Princess Zelda finally looked up and met her eyes. Mipha stammered but moved closer. “You know, what usually goes through my mind. It helps when I think, when I think about—”

She gasped as a sudden rumble cut her off, tremors in the earth throwing her off balance. Even Daruk seemed caught off guard, blinking at the ground in surprise as Revali and Urbosa stumbled. The princess nearly fell backwards and Link rushed forward to catch her, but she managed to right herself.

Mipha spun around, and Revali launched himself into flight with a single flap of his wings. When Link saw the horror that passed over his face. Coupled with the sound of growling thunder, he knew that there was no time left.

His fellow Champions understood as well. “It’s here.” Urbosa’s expression hardened into a grimace.

Daruk’s boulder-sized hands curled into fists. “This is it, then.”

“Are you sure?” Mipha’s fins fluttered nervously.

“Positive,” Revali said as he landed next to them all.

Link looked to Princess Zelda, whose face was frozen with shock. Only her lips moved, and the words that slipped out were half-whispered and fearful. “It’s awake. Ganon.”

Like a summons, the sky began to darken with furling smoke and flashes of magenta lightning, clearly visible over the cliffs. The princess backed away from it on instinct, her chest heaving with increasingly irregular breaths.

Daruk glanced down at her, then swiftly took the lead. “Let’s stop wasting time! We’re gonna need everything we got to take that thing down. Link will need to meet the Calamity head on when we attack. This needs to be a unified assault!” He ignored Revali’s sharp exhale of dissatisfaction. “Little guy, you get to Hyrule Castle. You can count on us for support, but it’s up to you to pound the Calamity into oblivion.”

Mipha and Revali looked prepared, but Urbosa hurried over to the princess. She stopped her from shrinking away with a gentle hold on both her shoulders. “Come. We should go. We need to get you someplace safe.”

“No!” She twisted out of Urbosa’s grasp and locked her arms at her sides. Link saw the tremble in her shoulders, but Princess Zelda held her ground. “I may not be much use on the battlefield, but there must be some way to help!”

Urbosa hesitated. Daruk scratched his head, then nodded. “Alright, little princess! We can’t win with weapons alone. We need your mind, too. NOW, CHAMPIONS!” He let out a roar that shook the rocks around them. “To your Divine Beasts! Show that swirling swine who’s boss!”

Link unsheathed the Master Sword. Its blade was shining with a blue light so bright and pale that it almost looked white. Light against the darkness that was still spreading across the skies above them.

It was time to fight for Hyrule.

Chapter Text

Link felt a hum coming from the Master Sword. Its fierce shine seemed to fill the other Champions with a holy Courage, and they were galvanised into action.

“Right,” Revali said crisply. He spread his wings, and his gale launched him effortlessly into the air. He was barely more than a speck in the sky when he flipped a final salute down to them before sailing towards the northwest.

Daruk rumbled low in his throat. “Stay strong! Don’t give in. We’ll be there for you, little guy!” The ground shook once again when he took a running leap back into the promenade. The paved stones cracked as he hit them already curled tightly into his Goron rock form, allowing him to roll away at top speed.

Urbosa grasped Princess Zelda’s hand. “Come,” she ordered, and the two of them took off down the promenade as well. Link made to follow them, but was stopped by name.

“Link.”

He turned. Mipha was standing behind him. “I… I know, there’s no time, but… I only wish… you must…”

He felt cool, smooth fingers come in contact with his skin as she stepped forward to cup his face with both hands. Before Link could even begin to feel confused, the space between them suddenly closed and Mipha pressed her lips hard against his. He barely suppressed the instinct to jerk away, freezing up every muscle in his body instead, which was why he didn’t react when Mipha finally released him with tears in her eyes. She did not allow him to say goodbye as she immediately turned and dove into the canal, the silver ornaments adorning her fins gleaming for a final time in the fading light.

“LINK!”

He finally regained his wits at Urbosa’s call and rushed after her and the princess, sheathing the Master Sword hastily.

The three of them sprinted through the West Gate and down the winding canyon. They burst out of the small wood and, to their relief, saw that Kakariko Village was more or less how they had left it. The black-thatched houses seemed to huddle together in their hidden enclave, the wooden tags on their strings clattering stressfully. The red lanterns flickered with a nervous energy.

There was little action on the paths, but Link spied a pair of men armed with longblades coming up the slope. “Princess!” They immediately rushed forward to block the view through the cliffs, but it screamed out to them: Hyrule Castle looked like a burning coal in the twilight, surrounded by what seemed like a wreath of heavy smoke. Flashes of the same magenta light, ominous and deadly, appeared now and then in the swirl.

“What happened?” Urbosa kept an arm around the princess, who had covered her face at the sight.

“Our lookouts saw the Calamity return. It erupted from beneath the castle, though we do not know from whence exactly it came. But it has not taken on any corporeal form, just that substance you see encircling Castle Town. Lady Impa has dispatched her squadrons to assist the King, but nobody has been able to contact him. We suspect he remains deep within the castle itself.”

Link heard Princess Zelda’s broken gasp. Urbosa’s muscles bulged as she clutched the princess closer. “So there it is. Are many people hurt?”

The Sheikah shook his head. “It’s very hard to say. Princess, please come with us. We must keep you safe.”

They were escorted down into the village, and Link finally began to see more activity. A small crowd had formed at the base of the staircase to Impa’s house. Two Sheikah knelt before the silent frog statues counting caches of arrows and weapons. Tall, strapping guards kept their hands ready on the hilt of their swords, scanning the skies in suspicion. At the centre of the clamour, Purah stood in the stead of her sister, listening to the reports and giving orders. Her eyes shone hard and grim behind her spectacle frames, none of the coy playfulness remaining.

“Aha! You’re back,” she said upon seeing them. “Hau! Collect the Champions’ mounts. Chief Urbosa must return to her Divine Beast as soon as she can, and Link is needed at the castle. Our warriors will surely be glad to see the hero’s sword joining them.”

Princess Zelda ran to her and snatched the first report up. “What news? Tell me everything.”

Purah was never one to mince her words, and she delivered an update in her straightforward, matter-of-fact researcher’s way. “The Calamity struck at sunset. The castle was not ready. Five columns have emerged around it filled with Guardians not unlike ours, but somehow remotely controlled by the Calamity. They are in excellent condition and fully mobile, some of them even capable of aerial attacks.”

There was a loud groan. Link turned and saw Robbie sitting amongst a pile of mechanical parts and tools, his head in his hands. “We should have found them. All that time underground, excavating — how could we have missed these great big structures?” He stood up, white hair shivering. “I tried everything. We studied every single document, examined all the maps and diagrams, we even used advanced mining technologies to see through the earth, yet they hid from us this entire time!”

“Hush,” Purah snapped. “There’s no time to wallow in self-pity! This is the Calamity’s doing. And I’m pleased to say that the Guardians we have excavated for ourselves have been doing well to defend the castle, although in the fighting, the number has gone down from around fifty to thirty-three. Don’t give up just yet!”

Robbie looked cowed and simultaneously relieved. Even Princess Zelda seemed heartened. Then, a shout caught their attention. Everyone turned to see a Sheikah warrior come limping down the path. “I bear news from the battle,” he cried. “The Guardians have fallen!”

Purah’s eyes narrowed. “What in Hylia’s name do you mean?”

The man’s leg buckled, and he tripped. Link helped him up. There were slashes down the front of his robe and his topknot had come undone. The Sheikah clung to Link’s shoulder and gave his report.

“The Guardians have fallen,” he repeated. “We were putting up a very good fight. The information from the researchers helped us disable enough enemy Guardians to secure Watchtower Gate. This allowed citizens escape with assistance from the Castle Town guard. Lady Impa and her squadron were on the brink of breaching the castle walls when it happened…”

“When WHAT happened?”

The Sheikah squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away from Robbie’s alarmed expression. “The Calamity. It… it still hasn’t taken on a form, but it did something with its malice. Something like flaming projectiles, shooting out and entering our Guardians… they turned against us. Some joined the others in ravaging the town, others moved in towards the castle, some used their beams to pick us off, one by one…”

Robbie’s moans of anguish were covered by Purah ripping up the other reports in her hands. She threw the tatters to the ground, sucking in a shuddering breath through her teeth. “Noted. That damned demonic bastard. And my sister?”

“The last I saw, Lady Impa was fighting with great ferocity, taking down several enemies with her squadron.”

“Of course she was!” Purah drew herself up to full height, though that wasn’t much at all. “And so will we! Where is that idiot, Hau? The Champions need to leave!”

At her words, a Sheikah finally came running back with Link’s horse and the princess’s stallion, both saddled and ready to go. The animals could sense evil in the air, pawing their hooves on the ground and shaking their manes nervously. Link took the reins of his horse, soothing it the best he could before he had to charge it towards certain doom. His hand shook even as he hummed softly at it. They all expected him to destroy the Calamity, even though every report and update revealed just how effortlessly it took over everything they had pinned their hopes upon.

Another familiar cry broke through his thoughts. Link turned to see the princess struggling against the Sheikah. She twisted away from Urbosa’s outstretched hands. “No! I’m not going to hide when everyone else is giving their all. You can’t force me.”

“Oh yes, we can!” Purah seized Princess Zelda’s wrist and attempted to drag her up the stairs. “The fate of Hylia’s line rests in you, so we can’t take any chances.”

Princess Zelda broke free and stumbled down the steps. “Link!” She ran to him, but stopped herself short of falling into his arms. He took one look into her green eyes and felt the fear disappear, his resolve hardening. The princess opened and closed her mouth a few times before settling on a short command: “Don’t leave me.”

“Never.”

“Good.” She curled her fingers tightly around his hand and turned back to Purah. “He’s my appointed knight. We stay together. The legends say hero and princess. Hylia’s line rests in me, so I have to go.”

All the Sheikah stared at them. Robbie wiped his eyes. Purah fumed. Urbosa, ever calm, folded her arms and waited.

“Fine,” Purah spat. Her knuckles went white as she gripped the wooden railing. “Who am I to debate with legends?” She pointed a finger at Link. “Keep her safe! Not even a scratch, or I’ll force feed you every untested elixir recipe we’ve got here when you return!”

She turned around before tears could spill. Princess Zelda glanced back at Link, her bottom lip trembling. The anxiety and anger and fear of so many unknowns hung heavily in the atmosphere surrounding them all. Link reached up to undo a strap around his shoulder.

“Take this,” he said. He helped her hang the Hylian shield over her back. It was the best protection he could give her during their ride — he would cover her front with his own body. Link saw the leather pressed against her bare shoulder and wished there was some way to pad it so it wouldn’t chafe, but they were now at the point where this was the least of their problems. “If you’re coming, you listen to me,” he said to her. “When I say run or hide, do it. No arguing. Understand?”

She hesitated. “Understand?” he repeated, failing to do so without the edge of impatience in his voice.

She finally nodded. Link wanted nothing more than to cup his hand under her chin and reassure her everything would be alright, but even in times like these, he was above blatant lies. So he forced himself to turn away from her and mount his horse.

Urbosa hugged Princess Zelda fiercely and kissed her cheek. She helped her get settled behind Link before swinging up onto the white stallion. The creature whinnied and bucked angrily, but Urbosa kept her balance, wheeling it around to face Link. “With your life,” she reminded him.

"Yes, Chief."

Urbosa regarded him with an expression that betrayed her battling emotions: pride, then melancholy, anger and fondness. She started for the path, but the injured Sheikah warrior called out. “No! Not that way. They’re after us.”

“Who?” Purah demanded.

“The Yiga.” He held up a torn, but unmistakable paper seal. “A few of them were on my tail as I came to deliver the news. I heard one of them say that this is the perfect time for revenge on the whole tribe.”

Purah was incensed. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” She signalled to the others. “Watch the perimeters! None of them can come through here. Use every cloaking device we’ve got and situate a good offensive squadron at the main entrance. Bring ranged weapons as well, they are skilled in evasion tactics. Champions, take the hidden pass through Sahasra Slope. It will get you to the castle far more quickly.” She finally managed to look Link and the princess in the eyes. “May the Goddess smile upon you.”

Link heard the princess let out a small sob behind him. He could only tighten his grip on the reins and turn the horse around to follow Urbosa towards the pass. The chief was already urging the stallion faster, but Link was stopped by a shout before he went too far.

Robbie came running up with a small item in his hands. It was one of the leather Sheikah shields, no longer than Link’s forearm and unlikely to last in a full-on battle. But his friend shoved it at Link anyway. “Take out the legs first,” he told him. “Their biggest asset is mobility. Then aim for the eyes. That’s where both the movement sensors and the laser is located, so it’ll do the job.”

“Thank you,” Link said.

Robbie’s mouth twisted and he looked like he was about to burst into tears too. “Go!” He slapped the horse on its rump, and Link’s last sight of Kakariko Village vanished as they raced through the pass.

They caught up easily to Urbosa as their horses flew down the slope. Link’s heart lurched in his chest as Hyrule Kingdom unfolded itself before him. Though night had descended, he could see everything that was happening.

There was Hyrule Castle in the distance, still surrounded by the undulating fog of darkness and malice. The ominous magenta glow winked in and out of the plumes of smoke that billowed up before it — claws of horror squeezed around Link’s heart as he took in the burning of Castle Town. The city that he called home was almost unrecognisable as houses and halls crumbled to flames that spread across the roofs. In the midst of it all, the familiar hulking forms of spindly-legged Guardians scrambled atop the breaking structures with no regard to the destruction, adding to it as their deadly beams drew beads on unseen victims behind the town walls.

The town walls were, for now, still intact. Link could see featureless shadows of people streaming out from the gates. They didn’t follow the roads or paths, simply making a beeline for anywhere that wasn’t the carnage behind them. Princess Zelda dug her fingers into his side when Guardians perched up on the turrets began to swivel their attention towards the defenseless Hylians scattering blindly into the open fields.

He couldn’t look. Link ducked his head and though they had to be too far away to hear them, felt their screams vibrating through his bones. Princess Zelda rested her forehead on his shoulder and he felt his tunic soaking up her tears.

“Link!” Suddenly, Urbosa was there, glaring at him with the stallion keeping stride beside them. “Don’t be distracted. We have a singular goal. The sooner we get to it, the quicker this will end. Good luck!”

She snapped the reins and the stallion lunged, soil and grass flying as it struck the ground with its hooves. Urbosa rode away seated straight and tall, her red hair flying up like a whip as she took the westward path towards Gerudo.

They were on their own. Link’s horse took him and the princess north, thundering down the road. He heard a sickening sound coming from his right and against his better judgment, turned his head in time to witness a hinox approaching Goponga Village. Its single eye lolled around as it trampled carts and wells like they were made of matchsticks and mud. Link had been to the bustling waterside settlement several times as a child. Its inhabitants were not fighters, but plump merchants and eager innkeepers who depended heavily on the traffic between Hyrule Kingdom and Zora’s Domain. Just as he was about to turn his horse around in that direction, he heard a very different cry ring out. Link and the princess watched as Zora knights suddenly appeared, their fins slicing through the river waters as easily as a hot knife through goat butter. They leaped into the air with a flash of snarling teeth and silver spears.

But not all civilians received help. Link and Princess Zelda continued down the road to find Wetland Stable in a state of disarray. People were getting into physical fights over the agitated horses that paced their paddocks. One of them jumped the fence and took off into the forest in a panic. Another group of Hylians were building a barricade with overturned wagons and furniture around the stable’s main entrance. They spotted Link and the princess and called out to them frantically, shouting about the dangers ahead.

"You mustn’t,” begged one stable hand, grabbing the horse’s reins and preventing them from going any further. Her nose was crooked and swollen, most likely broken. “It’s only… it’s only death up ahead. And they’re coming, all we can do is try to stand our ground and hold them off.”

“Who is coming?” Princess Zelda asked. Before the stable hand could reply, Link heard them: grunting, squealing, screeching with dumb animalistic glee at the chaos and slaughter. He yanked back the reins of his horse from the stable hand, turning it around to face the dozens of monsters racing up the trail. There were bokoblins with their panting tongues and floppy ears, moblins with long, twitching snouts sniffing eagerly for blood, and lizalfos that hopped up and down with deranged delight. As they marched towards the stable, the ground split open and skeletal versions joined in, a supernatural light dancing in the sockets of their skulls.

Link reached up for the Master Sword. Unsheathed, it was near blinding in the darkness of the night. He felt something else lift from his back and looked over his shoulder. Princess Zelda paused from where she was nocking an arrow to his bow. Their eyes met, and he nodded.

The stable hand yelled with shock as they charged into the mob. The Master Sword sang as it cut through flesh and bone, its blade remaining pure and stainless when it surfaced from the fray. The monsters on the outskirts of the battle scowled and stomped their feet before yelping in pain at the arrows that pierced their feet, arms, heads and hearts. Link could hear the people at the stable bellowing as they too fended off enemies from behind the barricade. Though the assault was fierce, it seemed like they stood a chance.

Then, Princess Zelda cried out and dropped the bow as Link’s horse reared up, shaking its head wildly. The place was suddenly filled with tiny glowing magenta particles. The clouds above broke through and the moon, engorged to hideous proportions and shining an eerie blood red, appeared in the sky.

Link had never seen anything like this before. Dread filled him and sure enough, the ugly sound of snorts and laughter came up from around and behind him. Princess Zelda clutched at his waist as they witnessed the monsters coming back to life. Wounds closed up and even missing limbs materialised out of the malice. The closest creature, an ugly black moblin with scars crossing its chest, turned and sneered at Link. It raised its claymore with both hands.

Before Link could react, its eyes suddenly bulged in shock. The moblin looked down at where the head of a woodcutter’s axe had become embedded in its ribs. The creature crumpled to the ground to reveal the same stable hand holding onto the handle, wide-eyed at her own courage. But there was no time for congratulations: the noise alerted the others. A bokoblin pointed its club at the stable hand and crowed.

“Ride!” the woman shouted, swiping at it. Her swing was amateurish at best, missing by a wide margin. She raised her voice over the crunch of breaking wood and final war cries. “Get away from this place!”

Link forced himself to comply, digging his heels into the horse’s flanks. They galloped across Rebonae Bridge into Hyrule Field, into the thick of the devastation. Farmhouses and fields alike were burning, all the golden harvest reduced to rows of ashes. Escaped livestock ran past, bleating in confusion and alarm. Link couldn’t see any people. Princess Zelda buried her face into his shoulder once more, but he couldn't avert his gaze from the wreckage as they rode through what was left of Mabe Village, getting closer and closer to their ultimate destination.

Castle Town's walls were still intact. Or so Link thought before he and Princess Zelda finally drew near enough to see the places where the stone had been split and reduced to rubble, smoke spilling out from the gaps. Link pulled the front of his tunic over his nose, hearing Princess Zelda cough behind him.

He helped her down from his horse, who was tossing its head around and breathing heavily. Link immediately moved the shield from her back to her arm. The princess wormed her hand through the straps and held on tightly. She looked at him for the next step, but before he could say anything, his horse reared and whinnied in fear.

A Guardian came crashing out of the grove that surrounded the Sacred Grounds. Link had never seen such a terrifying sight: it scuttled over the damp soil and broken pavement towards them at frightening speed, glowing with the same magenta malice that surrounded the castle save for its single, eerie blue eye. The Guardian emanated a steady stream of high-pitched beeps as it lined up a shot. The horse let out one last shriek before hurtling away. Link let it go, grabbing Princess Zelda’s hand. It was clammy and shaking, but she held on and kept pace as they ran for the protection of the walls.

Link chanced a look behind him and saw the red beam aimed right at them. He released the princess, pushing her away just as he dived to the side; she fell to the ground with a cry. Not a moment too soon — a blast of searing heat sailed over his head and landed in the wall behind him, shattering the stone into a thousand cracks and reducing everything else to fine rubble.

“Stay there!” he shouted to the princess, scrambling up and running past her. The Master Sword’s pale light countered the deep pink glare of the Guardian as Link attacked the legs, just as Robbie had instructed. He circled it, careful to keep out of sight of its dangerous eye. Each time he severed a leg, the machine shook and flailed, trying to strike Link with its jagged appendages, but he dodged them until none were left.

The Guardian spun its head around, the joints grinding as it locked a target onto his chest. He had no shield. Link threw himself onto the Guardian, hacking as hard as he could, praying that Hylia would grant him enough time to destroy it before it could fire. Just as he raised his arm for a final blow, Link looked into the eye and saw the blast ready to erupt. He jumped down and drove the sword into the exposed mess of wires underneath the Guardian, gritting his teeth against the burning pain that blossomed up his arm when the machine finally combusted over him, raining sparks and gears onto the cobbles.

Link pulled himself to his feet and staggered back to Princess Zelda, who was hanging to the side of the wall, clearly desperate to disobey and run to him. “You’re hurt,” she said, voice choked with emotion.

“I’m alive. Come on.”

He gripped her hand tightly, and they slipped into Castle Town proper. It already seemed like a ruin, with a few fires continuing to blaze here and there. Link and the princess were slowed by the piles of debris that blocked the roads. He did his best to avoid looking inside the broken buildings. It was better just to not know.

Despite the desolation, Castle Town had not been wholly abandoned yet. Link’s heart jumped every time he heard a soldier’s shout in the distance, and Princess Zelda squeezed his fingers harder whenever they heard a woman’s wail. But Urbosa’s words came back to him: they had to focus on getting to the castle and ending this nightmare once and for all.

All around them were the sounds of the Guardians patrolling the streets. Link dragged the princess from broken fence to crumbling wall as quickly and quietly as possible. His arm still ached from fighting just one of them; there was no way he could take on three or four. Sometimes they were spared by the sound of someone else making a bid for safety, and Link felt shame and sorrow sweep over him each time they took advantage of it. He had become a knight to protect people, and every scream was a new failure.

They were nearly to the Central Square when a different noise filled the air, startling the daylights out of Link. He pulled the princess closer to him, but she craned her neck to stare up into the sky, her green eyes wide with relief.

“Revali!”

Link looked up and sure enough, Vah Medoh was flying in with its outstretched wings and curled talons. It let out another mighty screech and shot down a beam of its own, the brilliant Sheikah blue that overwhelmed the Guardians’ red lasers easily.

The Divine Beasts, of course! The Calamity had taken the Guardians, but nothing could stop the Champions of Hyrule. Link felt his mouth stretch into a grin as the enemy began to fall from Medoh’s barrage. Revali was insufferable, but he was a fighter, and his arrogant rage was a formidable weapon against the enemy. Once Daruk, Mipha and Urbosa joined him, victory was theirs. Just as Link thought of this, there was another triumphant trumpeting. He turned around and there was Vah Ruta raised upon a cliff in the far distance. Mipha’s Divine Beast raised its trunk and sent another beam of blue boring into the darkness around the castle.

Link and the princess looked at each other, hope renewed.

Central Square looked devastating. Here, at the heart of the city, most of the buildings had been razed completely. Gone were the flower gardens, the heraldic banners, the vendors at their market stalls, and the laughter of Hylian children playing. The waters from the fountain were still flowing, but in odd spurts. As they moved closer, Link saw that it was clogged with a disgusting oozing substance that bubbled black and magenta.

There was nothing between them and the castle. It was still less than a day from when they had left it for Mount Lanayru. Link’s injuries throbbed while he walked towards his fate. He didn’t feel nearly as confident as he should, but there was no changing this. With the Master Sword in hand and Princess Zelda by his side, Link scrounged up the remainders of his courage for this final battle.

They only made it as far as the beginning of the bridge when there was a deep, primal growl of fury. The hairs on Link’s neck prickled as he recognised it from earlier in the day. Princess Zelda gasped as a shape began to manifest out of the dark cloud that shrouded the castle. The aura rippled and stretched into a serpent of smoke and malice, writhing through the air as high as the sanctum’s steeple. Link could make out a short snout and two long, wickedly curved tusks at the head of the serpent, and it twisted around to stare right at him with beady gleaming eyes.

Calamity Ganon opened its monstrous mouth and roared again.

More of its malice suddenly shot out from the cloud, arching long and far into the sky. Link didn’t realise what was happening until it was too late. The first flame of malice hit Vah Medoh. The Divine Beast had no reaction except for the blue of its eyes turning magenta, the evil colour seeping through its body until it had taken over completely. Link watched in dumbfounded horror as Medoh smoothly turned in mid-air, floating away from them back to the north. There was no sign of Revali.

The princess cried out. “No! No… Mipha!”

Link whirled around. Vah Ruta’s valiant attack on the Calamity itself was being beaten back. The malice overwhelmed the bright light, travelling along its path back to Ruta’s trunk. The invasion caused Ruta to convulse, and it lowered its trunk before falling back into the water. Link could just make out the splash around the Divine Beast’s body before it disappeared from sight completely.

There were no words. Only Princess Zelda’s weeping, and the disintegrating town around them.

“LINK!”

He started at the voice, then turned. To his shock, a familiar tall, lanky figure emerged from a caved-in house: Leigh, his fellow guard. His halberd was damaged and a fresh scar raked across his cheek, but he looked overjoyed to see him. The child in one arm was not, however, clinging to their rescuer and muffling their bawls in the stiff chain mail. A young woman, undoubtedly the child’s mother, scurried close behind Leigh.

"You're alive," Leigh blubbered. "Thank Hylia. Oh Link, I thought you... the Captain..."

“Link?!” Another soldier appeared, none other than Arrin, of course. But instead of relief and gladness at the sight of Link, his face went red with rage. He strode over, grabbing him by the front of his tunic. Link could see dents and scratches in Arrin’s armour, and dark stains on his gloves.

“What the hell did you come back for?” Arrin half-shouted at him. “And the princess! Why did you bring her? Are you out of your mind?”

“We have to—”

“No,” Arrin said. “It’s over. The castle is lost. The rest of the garrison have left for Akkala. The plan was to lure the Guardians away from here. Even the Sheikah are gone. This place is finished. There is nobody still alive inside.”

“What about my father?” Link and Princess Zelda asked at the same time.

Arrin was taken aback at being addressed directly by the princess. His expression softened slightly at her tear-streaked face. “I don’t know, I really don’t. Perhaps they went to the Citadel too, but you can’t stay here.”

He was prevented from saying any more when a shout interrupted them. “Stop — stay back! Arrin!”

Arrin whirled around. He ripped his own shield from his arm and pushed it into Link’s hands. “You need it more than we do. Now, get out of here. You swore an oath to protect the princess. Take her and RUN!”

He pulled out his sword and rushed towards Leigh’s voice. Link took one last look at the malice flowing around Hyrule Castle before he turned his back on it. He grabbed Princess Zelda’s hand and they fled.

The sky lightened from charcoal to ash. They had been up for the entire night. Link saw no rest in sight as he and Princess Zelda followed the paths of the other evacuees. Arrin’s information tumbled in Link’s mind. The soldiers hoped to lure the Guardians to Akkala Citadel, where the strength and height of the fortress could possibly gain them the upper hand. This must have been the Captain’s orders. Perhaps Chard had gone with them, after all, he was supposed to be in command…

Princess Zelda stumbled along beside him. Her head remained down, and he knew that she hadn’t stopped crying since they had separated from Arrin and Leigh. Link tightened his grip on her hand, even though it was slick with sweat and the rain that pelted down upon them. He was taking her to Fort Hateno. His father had acknowledged it as the second best choice, and it was closer to Impa and Kakariko Village. Once the princess was safe, he would try to contact them both.

That would be a long time from now, for the Guardians were hot on their trail. With the Kingdom fallen, they were roaming freely through the fields, locking their sensors on anything they noticed moving or making noise. Link and Princess Zelda could not help the sounds of their footsteps splashing through the mud and the wet grass, and they were soon run off the road by the enemy. He made for the trees whenever possible.

Hiding and running, running and hiding. Fighting and dodging whenever they couldn’t. Link had equipped Arrin’s shield himself. There was no time to give it to Princess Zelda once his had shattered against her arm; he simply kept her close. More than once did they slip in the mud, more than once did he fail to get out of the way in time. But he wasn’t dead yet and the princess needed him.

She was becoming slower and slower. She had to be exhausted, but they had no choice. Link pulled her behind him, one hand around her wrist when her fingers no longer had the strength to stay curled around his. He kept the Master Sword unsheathed at all times, the need for its presence at a constant high. They were nearly to West Necluda. Link surged forward, but Princess Zelda’s arm slipped through his grasp. He nearly tripped and fell into the sludge of the swamp, but managed to stay upright.

Turning around, he saw that the princess had not done the same. She had fallen on her knees. Her ceremonial dress had long been stripped of its pure colour with stains of dirt, grease, and other substances ground into the fabric. Her gold bracelets sank into the mud before her, and her yellow hair was soaked with rain.

“How?” She whispered as Link knelt before her. “How did it come to this? The Divine Beasts… the Guardians… they’ve all turned against us. It was…” Her fingers clawed the earth. “Calamity Ganon! It turned them all against us!” She raised her head and stared into his eyes, her own full and wet. “And everyone — Mipha, Urbosa, Revali, and Daruk — they’re trapped inside those things.”

Link had avoided thinking about this, but she had laid the painful truth bare to them. The princess’s composure shattered. “It’s all my fault! Our only hope for defeating the Calamity is lost all because I couldn’t harness this cursed power! Everything… everything I’ve done up until now, it was all for nothing.” She pawed at her face, mixing the tears and grime together. “So I really AM just a failure!”

He wanted to reassure her, comfort her, calm her down. Raising her voice had filled him with alarm, but thankfully, no enemies came. Princess Zelda’s eyes glazed over as she voiced her final shame. “All my friends… the entire kingdom… my father most of all. I tried, and I failed them all. I’ve left them all… to die.”

Princess Zelda collapsed against him, crying more wretchedly than he had ever witnessed anyone doing in his entire life. Her entire body slumped over, wracked with pain and guilt and utter despair. He wanted to hold her, help her, give her a moment and promise that everything would be okay… except he couldn’t. Link’s heart sank to the pits of his stomach when a familiar and dreaded beeping sound grew steadily louder.

“Princess, please,” he begged.

The Guardian was coming closer. He could already see the beam of red light scanning the trees. Link dug his arms under the princess and tried to haul her up, but she was dead weight against him. “You can’t give in,” he whispered to her. “Don’t leave me.”

She finally stirred at these last words, clinging to his arm while he helped her stand. Link could see the effort she put into lifting her head to look at him. She allowed him to take her hand again, but continued to cry as they resumed their flight.

Chapter Text

The elements overwhelmed and pelted down on Zelda as she ran.

There was the cold rain that hadn’t let up for hours, each droplet stinging her skin. She could feel the grit and grime of the mud seeping between her toes while she tried not to slip in her sandals. Link kept a death grip on her hand as they followed the Hylia River. Zelda could barely see when the wind blew the rain nearly sideways. Every limb ached with fatigue from their flight. The only sounds were their feet against the earth, and each desperate gasp that shot sharp needles through her lungs. Zelda wished she could stop, but if she did the pain would take over.

The grief inside her threatened to eclipse all else. Nothing in her life had compared to the helplessness of witnessing the fall of her own kingdom. Fields and towns, stable hands and soldiers, farmhouses or the great castle itself — watching them disintegrate with no possibility of help was an anguish unparalleled.

Fate was incomprehensibly cruel. Just when it couldn’t have possibly been worse, there had been the Divine Beasts. Zelda had felt redeemed upon the arrival of Medoh and Ruta, then the moment turned to ashes like everything else. Where were Revali and Mipha now? Had they perished at once from the Calamity’s invasion, or had they been humiliated with horrific defeats, or were they still trapped in a spiral of suffering? Rudania and Naboris had never even appeared. This was Zelda’s own doing. She had sought the Champions out and convinced them to fight for her, they had listened to her and now they were lost.

She had trusted the technology too much. No, not the technology… herself. What she had taken for intelligence and cunning was nothing more than empty arrogance. She had been so consumed by the selfish desire to rebel against her destiny that she hadn’t thought of the price that would take. She was the princess, yet not a drop of her Goddess-descended blood had spilled, the earth instead drinking of countless others’…

Zelda almost fell to her knees again, but Link’s hold on her forced her to stay up. She could feel the tension in his muscles and hear his breaths, hard but measured. He was fueled by fury, fear, and the fire of determination all at once. Zelda didn’t deserve him, but he would refuse to leave her behind. It did nothing more but weigh more sin upon her soul.

The riverbank narrowed to a thin strip of silty sand, and a large rocky cliff obscured the rest of the way. Link pulled Zelda past it before skidding to a halt. He spat a curse into the rain.

The hillside had been polluted by evil. The ground had been stripped of vegetation, the dead trunks of trees bare and brittle, and a pool of an unknown tarry substance bubbled ominously before the great horned skull cave that it defended. The sockets blazed with twin bonfires that illuminated its inhabitants: monsters lying in wait for them. A striped moblin raised its sword at them surrounded by spear-wielding bokoblins. The smallest of them raised a horn to its lips, and its trumpeting echoed off the cliffs.

Link pushed Zelda southward still, stumbling over his feet as he wormed his arm out of the heavy soldier’s shield that had been gifted to them in Castle Town. He grabbed her fingers and curled them around its holds. “Make for the bridge,” he said. “Do not stop; head for the woods.”

“What abou—”

“I’ll catch up,” he said, slowing down as he turned around and took the Master Sword in both hands. The blade continued to shine with its holy light. His eyes hardened beneath narrowed eyebrows and his fringe, darkened by the water, was plastered to his forehead. He had nothing else but the sword, and Zelda remembered with another jolt of shame that it was she who had lost him his bow.

The monsters were streaming down the hillside, clawing their way to them. Link kept walking backwards with her, unflinching even as arrows narrowly missed his feet, embedding themselves in the soft soil instead. “Go!” he snapped.

Zelda turned and left him. If she looked back, she wouldn’t be able to move. The trumpeting echoed in her eardrums over and over again. It was uncertain whether the shrieks and squeals were triumphant or mortal as the noise was snatched up by the wind.

At the bridge, she finally dared to look behind her. Link was still fighting, lit up by the Master Sword as he kept the monsters back. Bokoblins fell easily to him, but the white moblin was holding its own with little trouble. Zelda’s scream died in her throat when a blow of the moblin’s claymore knocked Link off his feet. Her heart sank when she watched her knight, so often driven by his great courage, finally disengage and flee from battle. The monsters gave chase, crowing wildly.

Link was almost to the bridge when he suddenly crumpled. Zelda could hear him cry out as his body convulsed before it hit the soaked wood beneath him.

She cared not for his orders. Zelda shoved the shield onto her back and raced the monsters to reach him first. She ignored their howls of excitement as she hooked her arms around Link’s shoulders, dragging him over the bridge. She forced herself to swallow her tears and fears as she managed to bring him to the relative safety of the trees.

The sounds of the enemy gradually died away as she laid Link amongst the roots. He was prone, listless, unmoving save for the shivering rise and fall of his chest. A dark stain was spreading slowly across his torso, eating away at the bright blue of the Champion’s tunic. Zelda wrenched her eyes away just to behold the worst of it all: an arrow impaled through Link’s left leg. She cringed; it should have passed through completely but somehow, the shaft had broken and twisted. The arrowhead was gone, not embedded in the flesh and stopping the bleeding as it would have. Zelda felt her lungs contracting tightly and breathing become shallow. But this was no time for panic.

She gritted her teeth and got to work. As soon as she slid the rest of the arrow out of his leg, Link jerked back into consciousness, thrashing and shouting. Zelda shoved him down with one hand, enduring the slick sensation of a warm, wet substance squelching against her palm. Using the gauze she had mercifully found in the pouches of Link’s belt, Zelda wrapped all of it around the wound as tightly as she could. Even then, roses of blood blossomed through the bandages, and in frustration, she ripped the hem of her dress and tied that down too, yanking hard with all her might.

At last, it was done. Zelda dropped her shaking hands. Link opened his eyes. He reached up and pulled her to him. Zelda buried her face in his shoulder, choking on her sobs. Link’s fingers tangled in her hair as he hugged her close. The metallic smell of iron filled her nose, but she could feel his heart beating under her cheek.

They lay there, trembling and holding each other until Link struggled to a sitting position. “We have to keep moving,” he said.

“Are you able to?”

“We’ve no choice.” He used the Master Sword like a crutch to help himself up to standing. A grimace of pain flew across his face as he braced himself for a single step. He nearly collapsed, and she caught him in her arms. His mouth twisted in consternation.

“Together,” she told him. Link nodded, breathing ragged.

Zelda’s heart quaked with anxiety as they left the cover of the trees and crept into the open. It was a slow and arduous trek. They sneaked past a destroyed settlement, the broken stones dappled from the rain. There were sad, dark shapes lying in the long grass nearby, but Zelda turned her head from them.

Fate chose to indulge them with quiet and success upon reaching the Dueling Peaks. Zelda looked down the narrow passage between the two mountains. She could already see the Ash Swamp at the other end, even if was just a haze of green and fog. Once that too was crossed, they would be at Fort Hateno. Link had insisted on going there, and Zelda couldn’t risk the lives of everyone in Kakariko Village with her presence.

Her arm ached from holding Link up, and the leather shield strap bit into her shoulder. Zelda swallowed it all, knowing that above all else she had to make sure he reached safety. Link was their only hope, the wielder of the sword that seals the darkness. If she saved him, she saved Hyrule. The Kingdom had no need of a powerless, useless princess, but they needed their Champion.

The day grew long and grey as they made their way through the Dueling Peaks. Zelda had travelled this path many times before, but she felt Link becoming taut and uneasy as he glanced around them. Compared to the chaos and carnage in Hyrule Field, it was all too quiet here. Zelda knew she should be wary, but she was grateful for the respite. The only sounds were the distant rumbles of thunder and mournful cry of crows. Even the river’s current, flowing the opposite way, made no sound as they swiftly carried the indistinct dark smudges in its waters towards the west.

They had managed to make it about two-thirds along when Zelda’s heart sank like a stone at the steady echoes of beeping behind them. She chanced a glance over her shoulder and saw not just one, or three, but an uncountable number of Guardians advancing upon them. The machines had no issues traversing the narrow passage, their long prehensile limbs scrambling over rocks and ledges like enormous spiders. Some even scuttled up the sheer cliff walls, sending pebbles scattering into the river as they clawed their way towards Necluda.

“Gods fucking damnit,” Link swore. He suddenly heaved himself out of Zelda’s grasp and yanked the shield from her back, snapping the strap so cleanly and quickly that she barely felt anything. Link grabbed her hand again and despite his injuries, forced them into a full-on sprint.

They were no match for the Guardians, however. The machines clambered and clanked at breakneck speed behind and around and over them, their joints grinding grotesquely. Zelda struggled to keep up with Link, whose adrenaline had kicked him into absolute overdrive. He would lunge one direction to get the targets off Zelda, then feint at the last second to avoid being hit by the beams. When there was nowhere else to go in the thin, narrow pass, he skidded to a stop to parry. Zelda felt a wave of heat each time a blast ricocheted off the shield, flying back towards its progenitor and exploding in its stone face.

But even with Link’s incredible skill, it was not enough. Half of the Guardians ignored them, swarming past into the open fields of Blatchery Plain. The stable there was a smouldering wreck, devoid of any life and activity, the ranch nearby decimated into dust. The Guardians splashed through the swamp’s marshy ponds towards East Necluda. There had to be at least two dozen of them making a beeline for Fort Hateno. Zelda felt her legs buckle beneath her.

Link caught her and pulled her back up. He seemed not to notice his wounds, charging forward with her out of the shadow of the Dueling Peaks. The wild ferocity in his eyes flickered as he took in their last hope for protection overrun by the enemy.

He sucked in a deep breath, sword arm shaking. The shield was gone. Two Guardians were advancing upon them through the wet grasses, and he launched himself at them with a yell of vengeance. Despite everything, Zelda still felt herself filled with awe at Link’s speed and strength as he mowed down the Guardians, knocking them back into heaps of glitching, sparking husks.

But it wouldn’t last. Link’s injuries finally caught up to him as the adrenaline rush ebbed away. He was knocked over by a flailing severed mechanical leg. Zelda grabbed him before he could throw himself back into the fray. “Link! Listen to me. We can’t fight them all, you have to—”

A red beam suddenly cut across her vision. Zelda smelled her hair singeing as Link shoved her to the ground. Her elbow knocked hard against stone, but she barely registered the fleeting pain. She scrambled to her feet. “LINK!”

He was burnt badly all over one arm and shoulder, the skin taking on an assortment of colours from shiny bright red to charred black. Zelda rushed to him as he doubled over on his knees, groaning and gasping for air. Scorching embers mixed in with the rain around them, the fires started by the Guardians’ blasts having no trouble flaring up despite the wet terrain. The bright magenta malice of the enemy glared in the darkness, almost like it fed off the despair and destruction wrought around them. Zelda could hear the approach of yet another Guardian, feel its eye seeking them out.

“Link,” she said to him. He didn’t look at her, scowling at the Guardians with wild, unfocused eyes. “Link,” she begged, “Stop this. Save yourself.”

Link stabbed the Master Sword into the ground to pull himself up. It still shone with its unearthly glow, but Zelda could now see that the blade was marked with deep grooves across the fuller and notches along the edge. She was pushed aside as Link lost balance and staggered backwards, the sword shaking in his fist. He held his damaged arm over her, still intending to shield her from harm.

Zelda was choking on her own voice. “Go, don’t worry about me — I’ll be fine. Run!”

The Guardian heard her and swivelled its head. It greedily clambered over to Link and Zelda, metal claws digging into its fallen brethren to rise exultingly over its quarry. The red beam of light zeroed in on Link, who could do nothing else but stare back at it with blood dripping down his cheek and muscles too weak to move.

“NO!”

Zelda pushed Link behind her, the target slipping off his forehead and onto hers. She raised her hand against the darkness, a meaningless instinctual gesture, and steeled herself for the end.

Three golden triangles filled her sight and soul with a blinding light. Zelda embraced it, allowing the warmth consume her. She concentrated her final thoughts on her loved ones: Daruk’s booming laugh, Mipha’s sparkling gems, the ruffle of Revali’s feathers, Purah snapping her fingers, Robbie’s slight cough, Impa’s calm voice and Urbosa’s knowing gaze. Her father’s eyes wet and sad beneath his heavy crown, and the flowery scent of her mother’s fingers stroking her hair.

Link standing with her on a hillside looking over the kingdom, blue skies and golden fields, blue eyes and golden smile.

The light faded and Zelda opened her eyes.

The Guardian was sputtering and stuttering, frozen in place. Its head crooked forward with finality, and Zelda saw the malice disintegrate into the dark sky. She stepped back when the Guardian slumped over in the mud, never to move again. One by one, every Guardian in the swamp shut down as the Calamity’s darkness fled the presence of Hylia’s light.

Zelda gaped at the outline of the Triforce still shimmering faintly upon the back of her hand. “Was… was that… the power?”

She had no time to wonder. She heard a thud behind her and turned in time to see Link on the ground. “No… no!” Zelda ran to his side, rolling him over. “Link, get up!” He didn’t respond. Zelda cupped his cheek, turning his face towards her. “You’re going to be just fine,” she whispered.

His eyelids flickered, as if the blatant lie was enough for him to awaken and chastise her for it. Zelda would have taken that. Link managed to lift his head slightly. He coughed and gazed up at her.

“Zelda,” he said.

Her own name stunned her into speechlessness. Zelda couldn’t move, only watch helplessly as Link dropped his head against her elbow and went limp in her arms.

The rain dripped into her hair and soaked into her dress. The wind blew shivers across her skin and the long marsh grasses jabbed the tips of their blades into her ankles. Zelda wrapped her arms around Link’s body and cried into his chest. She felt the rough ridges of the embroidery from his tunic against her cheek but nothing else, no heartbeat or the gentle ripple of breath, just a solid and still form of the boy she now knew she loved, who had loved her too. But he was gone now, and she was alone.

The longer she huddled there, holding Link and weeping, Zelda knew she wouldn’t be able to stand it. Being alone. Her friends and family had been taken from her but she needed the one who had been by her side each day, every day. Destiny be damned, she had no desire to see a future without Link in it.

The Master Sword lay battered, broken, but still sharp in Link’s hand. Zelda reached for it. As her fingers brushed the hilt, the chipped blade suddenly burst into blaze of pale, holy light.

Princess Zelda.

She withdrew her hand at once in fright. This voice, cool and calm and slightly monotonous, was unfamiliar and but reassuring all at once. But where did it come from? Who was speaking?

The one descended from my creator. I must aid you in fulfilling the great destiny that is your burden to carry.

The Master Sword flashed its light again. Zelda stared at it, scarcely willing to believe what was happening. “The sword…?”

The return of the Calamity. The fall of the kingdom. Uncertainty surrounding the fate of one you hold dear. Under the circumstances, there is no time for cordialities. Hear this, Zelda: the one you love, courageous Link, can still be saved.

Zelda drew Link’s body closer to her. “He can… still be saved?”

He must be taken to the Shrine of Resurrection within the mountain bearing my creator’s name. There he shall rest until the time comes for light to shine again upon Hyrule. You both will play a role in this great destiny.

Zelda stared at the sword. The Shrine of Resurrection in Mount Hylia. So they had uncovered it for a purpose, after all. But it was untested. Purah had even warned about strange side effects: a weakened state, permanent scarring, even major memory loss…

It didn’t matter. There was a way to save him, so she would do it.

“Princess!”

She looked up and saw three Sheikah running towards her through the tall, wet grass. Two of them darted high above the empty Guardians, their movements belying the swift and stealthy training of a Sheikah warrior, but the last one simply ran with no regard for strategy. His robes were streaked with grime and his topknot was bedraggled by the rain, but Utano paid little heed as he waded through the swamp to reach her. “Princess, are you al…” He fell to his knees before her, shock and relief and sorrow filling his face.

“Take Link,” she ordered him. “Have Purah place him in the Shrine of Resurrection.”

Utano trembled as he took in the sword in her hand and the lifeless knight in her arms. “But—”

“If you don’t get him there immediately, we are going to lose him forever!” Zelda glared at the warriors who joined him. “Is that clear?”

They nodded and scooped up Link’s body. Zelda’s heart clenched at seeing his arms dangling to the ground, but she turned away, fixing her focus upon the castle again. This time, the dark clouds struck no fear within her, only grim determination.

Utano had not followed his kinsmen, looking to her in distress. “Princess, I plead. What will you—”

“The Master Sword.” Zelda picked it up and held the hilt in both hands. She felt a hum that flowed through her bones, the same reverberations of the cool voice that had spoken to her. “I heard it speak to me. It seems my role is unfinished.”

The mists of the Lost Woods faded for Zelda as she weaved her way around the ancient trees. The Master Sword continued to shine within her hands. She could feel its power amplified by the spiritual aura all around them. 

The path opened for her ended at a clearing of green and gold. The grass was soft and the trees provided plenty of shade. Zelda heard faint musical tinkling above her head, but when she looked up, only patches of sunlight played in the branches.

She laid the Master Sword atop a worn pedestal. There was a groove already waiting for them. Here, the sword could heal from its dedicated service. Although the slumber of restoration would most certainly deprive Link of his memories, she trusted that he would arrive before the sword that sealed the darkness once again.

“Your master will come for you,” she told the ancient blade. “Until then, you shall rest safely here.”

She stood. The sunlight was warm upon her shoulders, though her dress was still thin and ragged and her hair tangled with mud. A soft rustling caught her attention, and Zelda raised her head to meet the gaze of the Great Deku Tree, an ancient spirit and protector of Hyrule itself. The wind set its pink leaves fluttering as the spirit spoke directly to her.

“If I may be so bold,” it said. “What is it that you are planning to do next, Princess?”

Zelda looked down at the Master Sword. She thought of Link, now sealed in the Shrine, waiting to be awoken. “There is still something I must do.”

Trees could not smile, but she heard warmth and pride in the low rumble of its voice. “I sense there is great strength in your dedication.”

“Great Deku Tree.” Zelda folded her fingers before her chest to keep them from shaking. “I ask of you. When he returns, can you please relay this message? Tell him…”

Tell him that he had all of her faith. Nobody else had the will and noble spirit to take on the task before him. But tell him that she loved him. That though her heart broke at the loss of all her family and friends - a tiny, selfish part of her was crying with relief that death had not taken him from her. That she would have given her life to bring any of them back, but she was guiltily grateful that he, out of all of them, had been saved.

“Now then,” the Great Deku Tree gently interrupted. “Words intended for him would sound much better in the tones of your voice, don’t you think?”

She lifted her chin, warmth flooding her heart as she remembered Link’s smile. “Yes.”

“Then I shall await his coming with you.”

Zelda bowed her head. She knelt and carefully picked up the Master Sword. Despite its fragile state, the hilt was warm to the touch and she could feel joy and courage singing through the metal, a fierce and sure conviction of what was to come. Zelda closed her eyes and lifted the sword higher, listening to the voice calling to her from within.

In the name of my creator, go forth and take hold of your destiny, Princess Zelda. You will not fail.

Zelda walked by herself. Rubble and dust covered her feet as they took her down the empty streets of Castle Town. She paid no heed to the Guardians that swarmed nearby. They would not touch her, scuttling away like roaches in her presence.

She walked up to the great gates of the place she once called home. She followed the sloping path, passing the gatehouse, the Guard Chamber, and even her old study and bedroom. They already felt alien, like they no longer belonged to her.

The entrance to her final destination was laid bare to her. Malice saturated the air, peppering her skin and stinging her eyes. She could sense the evil awaiting her where her father used to reign from a tall, royal throne. He was with her mother now, and her friends. Zelda knew this and it made her heart contract. And yet…

She knew the Sheikah were safe. Necluda was safe. She had faith in the other nations that they too would survive, and moreso in her own. The legacy of Hylia’s people was Courage. They would find a way to endure and thrive, rebuilding the kingdom slowly but surely even without her.

Link would live. She was not alone in this fight. He would return and lend her his strength again to defeat their enemy once and for all. He already had.

Zelda stood before the sanctum. Hylia’s blood sang through her veins. She had a brief vision of four other women, stately and powerful and familiar, standing by her side and watching in approval as she summoned her inner light. Zelda raised her hand and saw three golden triangles glowing so brightly that for a moment, it obscured the hideous, snarling face that appeared out of the smoke—

So it began. Her destiny was hers, and hers alone. She was the princess and she would win.