Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“…ink.”

“Oh, goodness, he really is waking up.”

“It’s certainly about time.”

“…Open your eyes…”

“Just a little more, brother, you’re almost there.”

“Open your eyes…”

“Come on now, haven’t you slept long enough?”

Link’s eyes flickered open, squinting through the painfully bright light, to the feeling of a thick fluid draining from around him and a chorus of voices. Four heads poked in at various points above him, concerned faces slowly coming into focus. One of them, a Zora, broke into a soft smile as he blearily met her eyes.

“You’re awake,” she said, clear pleasure warming her voice.

“Finally,” the Rito muttered, crossing his arms over his chest with a huff and abruptly turning and stalking away.

Link blinked, slow and heavy, and pushed himself upright. His body felt strange, the fingertips cold and tingling, his limbs heavy. His breath came hard. Even his face felt stiff and numb, and he reached up to rub the feeling back into it. The Zora moved as if to help him sit, and then stopped herself, instead hovering anxiously.

Link shifted his open palms to fist at his sleepy eyes instead, and the four around him watched silently. Something told him this was odd.

He looked down at himself, wet and nearly naked and all of his skin blank and bare of any soul paint, though it was splotched with scarring. Something told him this was odd, too. He held his arms out and turned them over, but nothing revealed itself.

There should be something there, shouldn’t there? Streaks and splashes of soul paint where others had changed his life, where he had changed theirs? Something?

“How do you feel?” the Zora pressed after a very long moment, rocking forward just a little, eyes wide with worry. Her hands and arms were painted in soul paint of varying shades and colors, all plainly visible in her loose outfit. There was one particular streak of grass green on one of her palms, one that felt somehow intimately familiar.

Link blinked at her, and discovered that his mouth didn’t want to speak the way hers did. His hands moved to do it instead, as if on instinct. I feel tired. What happened? Where are we?

“We’re in the Shrine of Resurrection,” the Gerudo interrupted, sweeping in beside the Zora and setting a firm hand on her arm. Her eyes were narrow and uncompromising, though still, Link thought, warm. There was a child-sized smear of bright sunshine yellow soul paint on her cheek, and just a few scattered over her hands. “It’s no wonder you feel tired, you’ve been through quite an ordeal. But it’s time to get back to work.”

Link blinked at her, blankly bemused.

Who are you? he asked, in signs he seemed to recall only as he used them. They felt familiar, but he was sure he didn’t remember them.

In fact, he realized, with a slow-growing fear, he didn’t remember anything.

His sudden dread was accentuated by the silence that swallowed the room at his question. Even the Rito looked startled, his aloofness shattered by something about Link’s confusion.

The Goron stepped forward just to lean down – way down, until he was only a little above Link’s eye level.

“What do you remember, little brother?” he asked gently.

Instead of answering, Link looked around, his gaze roving slowly over the room. It was dark and enclosed; the main sources of light were the tank he was still sat in, and a small pedestal on the other end of the room. It was a relatively large space, for so little furnishing, but the crowding of people made it look smaller.

He was still mostly naked, and he was starving. He wondered if he could find food nearby. Clothes. He hugged himself, loose and uncomfortable, and forced himself not to shiver in the open air.

Finally, Link met the Goron’s eyes and shook his head. The Zora gasped quietly, her hands covering her mouth in horror.

Link swallowed.

The Goron took a deep breath, closing his eyes for just a moment, and then opened them again and smiled confidently at Link. There was a green soulmark on him too, a long, broad patch in the crook of his elbow that matched the one on the Zora, almost blending in with the smattering array of handprints he had all over both forearms.

“I’m Daruk,” he introduced himself without any further hesitation. “Usually with this sign.” And he gestured, with the sort of ease that only came with practice, in a way that Link interpreted as rock roast.

It was almost enough to make Link smile, though he was still a little wary, with the thick tension around them not yet broken. Hello, Daruk. I think my name is Link. He just fingerspelled his own name; he likely wouldn’t need to refer to himself in the third person much.

Daruk’s smile turned a little sad, for some reason. “Good to meet you, little brother.”

He looked over and gave the Zora a significant look, complete with raised eyebrows. She swallowed, and then stepped forward. The Rito crossed his wings over his chest and stepped back, looking uncomfortable and resentful. Link saw a grass green smear on his upper wing, the exact same shade as on Mipha’s hand and Daruk’s arm.

“Hello, Link,” the Zora said softly, her voice thick with emotion. “My name is Mipha. We use this sign.” She made the sign for gentle. Link thought it suited her.

Hello, Mipha, Link echoed obediently. He really was hungry. He wanted food. He glanced at the Gerudo, drawing his legs up to his chest, and after a second, she sighed.

“Urbosa,” she said simply, and one of her hands rose to make a U, which she dragged through the air in the shape of a thunderbolt. Link nodded, and just echoed the sign this time.

He felt kind of… lightheaded. Distant. Something in his chest thrummed with nervous energy. He had to move. He had to do something.

With a grunt, he swung his legs over the edge of the table, and then glanced expectantly at the last of them, the Rito, who gave a long, put-upon sigh.

“Revali,” he said flatly. A short moment passed, and then Urbosa snapped, drawing Link’s attention, and she signed something Link could only bring himself to read as peacock.

Link felt himself smile, echoed the sign again, and then pushed himself off the table. His knees nearly gave out when he hit the ground, and he caught himself on the edge of the table, took a breath, and pushed himself away. The others hovered, their silence heavy and awkward, and he found himself heading for the only other glowing point in the room. He leaned over it, frowning faintly, and flinched when it spun and offered him a slim tablet.

It looked familiar too.

“This is a Sheikah Slate,” someone told him. The voice made him jump and look around; it didn’t belong to anyone who had spoken so far, except… except maybe when he was first waking up. But who…? “Pick it up. You’ll need it for your journey.”

Link didn’t understand what the voice was talking about, but despite that, he found that he trusted it. Trusted her. He didn’t remember her voice, but he recognized it.

He reached out and took the slate. Revali arched his crested eyebrows.

“Well, at least he listens to someone,” he bit out, and didn’t even jump when the bricked-up doorway suddenly opened.

It was too dark to see well, but Urbosa waved him on expectantly, the others hovering as if waiting for Link’s lead, and Link only hesitated for a moment before heading in that direction. In the hallway, he almost tripped over a storage chest, but when he opened it he found clothing – old and undersized, but he was desperately relieved to be able to cover himself and his too-bare body, and he pulled them on so fast his clumsy fingers fumbled. He struggled with the shirt, one of his shoulders painfully protesting the stretch, but with effort he got that on too.

There was a rough, loose sheath for a sword, and more belts for a shield and a bow. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled those on as well, wondering how he remembered how to strap them into place.

Mipha crouched just beside him as he finished, smiling encouragingly. “Just a little further,” she coaxed, nodding down the hall.

He nodded without looking at her, pushed himself up, and went for the pedestal without being told. A split second passed as Link examined it, noting the obvious similarities to the one that had held the Sheikah Slate. But there was nowhere to put it, so…

“The Sheikah Slate goes-” Mipha started, just as the voice from before walked him through the same thing.

Without hesitation, Link took the Sheikah Slate and held it up to the pedestal, and the door opened. He flinched from the light, turning his head away, and then shook himself.

The others were waiting for his move again.

Link went, overly aware of the four followers at his back. He stumbled over the doorway and caught himself again, the faint numbness of his limbs refusing to leave, and hesitated for a split second before the ledge blocking his way, squinting up warily.

Urbosa stepped past him without a word, jumped, and pulled herself up, turning around as soon as she was atop it to look at him expectantly. Revali jumped too, rising with a flap of his wings, and Mipha waved him on coaxingly.

Link turned back to the ledge and jumped, grabbing the edge of the rock shelf firmly. He pulled himself up, but his body felt heavy, and his fingers trembled with weakness and disuse. The skin of his shoulder and stomach sent shooting pain out to the rest of his body.

His grip slipped and he hit the ground again, lost his balance, and fell back into the puddle behind him, soaking himself anew in freezing water.

Daruk swore, loud and startled. Mipha breathed out a soft, sympathetic, “Oh, no.”

Link clenched his jaw, pushed himself back up, and stepped forward to jump up the rock shelf again. This time, he pulled himself up, pushed grimly forward down the rest of the hall, and, shielding his face, headed unerringly for the exit. Urbosa and Revali let him by without a word, unmistakable pity on the Rito’s face. Tepid water dripped down Link’s back.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was running for the edge. From the vantage point he found there, Link could see. Everything.

There was a lot of everything to see.

For a long moment, he stared, willing his empty mind to recognize any of the vast wilderness spread before him. Any of the ruins he could see in the distance, any of the people at his back. The castle encased in a dark fog. But there was nothing. He failed.

“This way, Link,” Mipha said gently, ushering him along. He turned helplessly, and his eyes landed on the only sign of life within shouting distance: someone in a hooded cloak, just settling down by a fire under an overhang.

Link walked. He didn’t trust himself not to slip if he tried to run while he was still so weak with hunger, and he could already see some apples and mushrooms that he could grab along the way. He felt hungry enough to eat a horse.

The others were starting to exchange looks and murmurs behind him. None of them had touched him yet.

“Wasn’t expecting this,” Daruk stage-whispered hoarsely. “What do we do now? We can’t just leave him, look at the kid.”

“He’s no older or younger than he was before,” Urbosa said sharply. “He’s sixteen, not six. A little bit of experience and he’ll be perfectly capable. Or do you have a better proposal?”

“No one is questioning his qualifications even now, Urbosa,” Mipha said, “but you must admit Daruk has a point-”

“What point is that?”

Link snatched an apple off the tree, jumping for it, and then lifted it to his mouth to bite down, spun, and signed, I can hear you, and I’m not a broken toy. He cracked the bite off, chewed, and swallowed, and then, with one hand full obscuring his sign a little, Did we used to be friends? Is that how you know me?

“…Brothers,” Daruk said, after just a beat, with a small, clearly pained smile at Link. “Sorry, little bro, didn’t mean to make you feel left out. We’re just in a bit of an awkward situation now.”

Urbosa scoffed. So did Revali, who stormed right past them to lean on the overhang by the hooded figure, which only spared him a glance before looking back down.

Link stared at Daruk for a moment, unsure, but then nodded firmly, kept gnawing at the apple, and leaned down to snatch a handful of mushrooms too.

He kept going, making a beeline down the hill towards the campfire. The mutters stopped.

He’d finished his apple by the time he reached it, but there was another one, skin wrinkled and cooked in the fire, and without thinking he snatched that too.

“I beg your pardon!” the hooded figure snapped, lifting his head to reveal hard eyes and thick white hair, with a bushy beard to match. “I do believe that apple is mine! Don’t go about taking food that isn’t yours, now.”

Link flinched, nearly dropping the apple by reflex alone, except even the first hadn’t sated his hunger and he felt like he hadn’t eaten in years. He stared blankly at the old man, frozen in place.

Almost right away, the old man’s expression softened. “Easy there, I am only pulling your leg. Please, help yourself. I can always make another.”

Link let out a relieved sigh, and without further hesitation dropped down beside the fire and started digging into the fire-baked apple. When he found a long, thin stick, he took that too and started sliding the mushrooms onto it, and the man didn’t protest.

Revali wasn’t looking at him, arms crossed in front of him, Link noticed. In fact, his head was deliberately turned away. Urbosa had turned to survey the horizon, hand on her hip, and Daruk appeared to be keeping a watch of sorts, intent eyes on the paths closest.

Mipha was watching Link with an openly and unabashedly worried expression. It could just be that she was the most caring, but Link suspected that they specifically had been close.

He wondered why he didn’t have marks from any of them.

It wasn’t until he had finished the second apple and the mushrooms were roasting by the fire that he finally turned to the old man. The man smiled at him crookedly, seeming to understand.

“Unusual to see someone here these days,” he noted, with an odd glimmer in his eyes. “What brings you here?”

Link hesitated, glancing at Mipha, who just nodded encouragingly. He took the risk, figuring it was better than remaining silent. I’m not sure. Who are you?

“A quiet one, hm?” the man murmured, though he didn’t look as surprised as Link might have expected- and then, before Link could get too disappointed, “I am just an old man living alone in the woods, no need to get into my life story.”

Link paused for a beat without looking away, and then prompted cautiously, Where are we?

A lizard scurried by Link’s knee. A beetle buzzed behind his head, and the wind whistled faintly.

“This place is commonly known as the Great Plateau,” the man said mildly, gesturing to their surroundings. “According to legend, it is the founding place of Hyrule. Its glory days are past now, of course.”

Hyrule. That sounded… familiar, in the same way that the distant voice did, or the Sheikah Slate looked.

The man gestured over his shoulder. “I assume you’ve seen the ruins there, boy?” Link nodded. “A hundred years ago, it was a place to hold sacred ceremonies. A touchpoint for the divine. Now, of course, it’s but a ghost of its former self. Such is the price of a century of neglect.”

The narrative sent a wave of melancholy crashing over Link, but without any solid idea of what to say, he just reached for the skewer and started pulling the roughly roasted mushrooms off of it. The old man chuckled. It sounded bitter.

“Anything can be repaired,” Mipha said quietly, the first time she had addressed the old man directly. Link watched him smile, a little quirk of his lips.

“We can only hope,” he murmured, and then nodded at Link. “Eat. It’s quite clear you’ve been without food for a while.”

Link ate, but half his attention was already preoccupied trying to decide what to do next. He needed to look around first, he decided, get a feel for the area, find out if there were any other people nearby. The sun was high, he wouldn’t need to find a place to settle for the night for a while.

He’d have to talk to the others. His… friends, these strangers who knew him. It seemed that they had something in mind already.

He finished the mushrooms, set the skewer aside, and signed an absent thank you to the old man, who merely nodded. When no further conversation was made, Link climbed up the overhang and looked around.

The temple the old man had indicated was by far the most prominent, but there were some others visible nearby too. There was a forest, a lake…

Urbosa pulled herself up beside him, startling him into flinching nearly hard enough to destabilize, and when he recovered, he looked at her in silent question. She studied him for a long time, eyes shadowed, and he bore it grimly, grip tight on the rocky outcrop. Birds cawed overhead.

“We were on a mission together, before this,” she said at last, picking each word with care. “It would be… appreciated, if you agreed to continue helping.”

She looked guarded. It was clear that she thought he would refuse.

“Urbosa,” Daruk said with warning, tall enough that he didn’t even need to climb the overhang to frown at her.

Link hesitated. The world stretched out in front of him, expansive and unknowable, and Link felt insignificant in the face of it. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to do anything… but he supposed he would have to find out.

The woman who was speaking to me, he said. Do you know her?

Urbosa softened visibly. “Yes. Her name is Zelda. The two of you were quite close.”

That was more than believable. The sound of her voice alone made him want to trust her. Are we going to find her?

Urbosa looked away, then grimaced at herself and met his eyes again. “As soon as we can.”

Link nodded, and then nodded again, his heart rattling in his chest. What do we do?

Abruptly, Revali took off, making Link jerk. Daruk chuckled and Urbosa sighed, and Mipha explained to Link, “He’s gone to find something. He should be back soon.”

Link nodded again absently, eyes on the horizon, and paused as his eyes landed on something glinting in the middle of the lake. Fish leapt, the splash not quite reaching his ears, and light glimmered off the water, but it was the metal flash on the island that caught his eye.

A sword, sticking out of the ground. He wanted that.

He pushed himself off the overhang, waved vaguely to the old man, and then walked past him towards the lake. He hesitated for a split second, then looked at Mipha, who had walked with him, and explained, I’m going to get the sword. I’ll be right back.

Mipha’s returning smile had an undertone that was difficult for Link to read. “Alright, Link. I’ll be right here.”

Link smiled briefly, and then slid into the water and swam over to the small island in the lake. He climbed onto it and pulled the sword out, turning it over in front of him. His hand gripped it instinctively, and its weight felt somehow familiar. He thought maybe he’d used a sword before.

It was rusty. It would likely break easily. He put it in the sheath anyway, where it rattled, slightly too small.

When he returned to the shore, muscles sore from the exercise already, Revali was waiting with the others, foot tapping impatiently. As soon as Link climbed out, without a word, he turned away and started walking somewhere else. Link shot Mipha a questioning look.

“There’s somewhere you need to go first,” Mipha explained kindly, starting to reach out and then pulling back again to beckon him forward instead. “Revali was kind enough to go and find it.”

“If I catch you calling me kind again, I’ll tell him something you don’t want him to know,” Revali said without looking back. Mipha sighed, a put-upon shadow flickering across her expression.

“My mistake,” she murmured, and then, to Link, “Careful, there’s…”

Link had already seen, and in the same way he had recognized a Goron on sight, had recognized a Zora and a Rito and a Gerudo with their round ears, he recognized the bokoblin lounging on the path in front of him, munching idly on a roasted chicken leg.

Link had his sword, but he felt apprehensive enough that he still backed carefully away, ducked out of sight, and skirted around the beast, avoiding confrontation. There was a faint buzz in his ears, the grunt of the bokoblin too loud.

When he was finally far enough away to take a deep breath and look back at the others, each of them were wearing peculiar expressions like he’d done something extraordinarily strange. He cocked his head, releasing the sword where he’d started to subconsciously grip it, and studied them. What’s wrong?

Daruk broke the spell first, striding forward to give him an easy grin. “Nothing, little brother. Not feeling confrontational today?”

No. He really wasn’t. There was a faint ache in his muscles, and he felt stretched thin in a way that made him certain he couldn’t take more than a couple of hits before collapsing. Should I be?

Were they going to abandon him if he wasn’t right? He wouldn’t blame them. They must feel like they had lost their friend.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Mipha said firmly, almost as soon as he’d finished the thought. She nodded him on, where Revali had changed his path to accommodate Link’s diversion, looking faintly impatient. “Go on.”

Revali’s path didn’t attempt to cross with another bokoblin the whole way to where they were going, which Link was grateful for; it wasn’t hard to notice the way it wound to avoid them, giving each monster a carefully measured berth. Urbosa muttered darkly under her breath, but Link tried not to listen too closely, following the Rito as he led the way.

Revali led them to a small cavern set between two large rocks, something set into it that Link noticed had a pedestal similar to the one where he’d woken up. Revali leaned against one rock, and gestured inside.

“Go on,” he said curtly, without looking at Link. “It somewhat resembles the pedestal you used to leave the shrine.”

Link looked at him, nodded, and then stepped inside.

Chapter Text

Like at the base of what became the tower, his friends waited for Link outside the shrine. He suspected they were talking about him. That was fine.

A lot had happened, he realized distantly.

Link came stumbling out of the shrine an hour after he went in, his fingers trembling, feeling like he’d been scooped out and his insides scrambled. His chest hurt with the effort of breathing. Mipha rose to meet him as soon as she saw his face, eyes wide with concern.

“What happened?” she demanded, hurrying over to look him over with a healer’s intent.

Link shook his head, scratching anxiously at his arms, and then, after a long moment, reluctantly stopped to sign, Nothing. I don’t know. Nothing.

Then he reached up and bit into the meat of his thumb instead, trying to gnaw away the agitation. Urbosa’s appearance made him jerk back, involuntarily tensing up, but she just clucked at him.

“There was something in there,” she concluded, eyes sharp and expectant.

Two somethings, really: a monk that told him they had waited for him – for a hundred years, if the old man was to be believed – and given him a little orb of magic that he could still feel pulsing in his chest.

And a machine, which had not turned out to be that dangerous, but the mere sight of which had left Link trembling like a leaf, heart racing.

“Just breathe, child,” the old man said, suddenly there – this had the opposite effect of making Link jump violently, but when he looked up, the man was giving him a gentle, calming smile, hands lifted in a gesture of peace. For the first time, Link could see a smear of yellow in the same shade Urbosa bore on his palm. “You did well to complete the shrine and get the treasure. I expected nothing less.”

Link stared up at him, then took a long, deep breath and nodded, his heart starting to slow and his breath coming a little easier.

Paraglider, please, he requested weakly, trying to hide the shake of his hands. He just wanted to get off this plateau and to the castle. He needed to help the person inside.

No one deserved to drown in the malevolence he’d seen from the top of the tower.

The man laughed, loud and booming. “It won’t be that easy, I’m afraid! Though I appreciate your enthusiasm.” At Link’s crestfallen look, his expression gentled again. “There are greater things at work than I’ve let on thus far. I ask you to trust me.”

Link bit his cheek, then lifted his hand and bit his fingertips too, jittery with stress, and then looked at Mipha. Mipha gave him a sad smile, heavy with history, and nodded.

Link looked back at the old man, and nodded reluctantly. In return, the man gave him a warm smile.

“Ask one of your friends to explain the uses of the Sheikah Slate to you; it’s a vital piece of ancient Sheikah technology, most of which was lost long ago. You will use it to operate towers and shrines like the one you just completed, but it has other uses too.” The man paused to let Link absorb that, and then continued, “There are three more shrines on this plateau. I need you to complete all of them before I give you the paraglider. Meet me at the top of the tower when your friend has explained the Sheikah Slate.”

Link swallowed, and then nodded grimly. The man gave him another gentle smile, and then walked away.

Then Link put his head down, and rubbed his arms like he was cold. He felt cold.

It was a lot. Everything was a lot. He sat on the edge of the shrine and shivered, and the others stayed quiet around him, letting him rest. At least for a minute.

After an eternity, Link sat up and gave Mipha a pleading look, and Mipha scooted closer and started to walk him through how to use to Sheikah Slate – how to warp from place to place, how to store items in it, how to use the map and the scope and the note-taking function.

Almost right away, Link opened up the note-taking function and put in, The Isolated Plateau: Complete all of the shrines on the plateau to get the paraglider.

When he saw Mipha looking at him, he explained, I don’t want to forget.

Her expression softened, and she nodded and stood up. “Go meet with him. We’ll be waiting here for you.”

Link nodded, but then hesitated. He glanced back at the others, gathered on one side of the shrine, and then to Mipha again. I’m sorry I ruined your plans.

Pain flickered across Mipha’s face. “You didn’t ruin anything,” she said firmly, attracting the attention of the rest of the group. “You did nothing wrong, Link. Bad things happened, that’s all.”

Link studied her for a moment, struggling to gauge her sincerity. Nauseating guilt roiled in his stomach. I’m sorry I forgot you.

Mipha opened her mouth, and then closed it, and Link started to look away. Both of them were rescued by Daruk, crouching beside them with a familiar easy smile.

“Just gives us a chance to get to know each other again,” he said flippantly. “Don’t worry about it, little brother. Just do what you gotta do. We’re with you.”

Link stared at him, then took a deep breath and nodded. A quick glance told him that Urbosa and Revali weren’t quite as forgiving. He wondered if they were just like that, or if he had…

Link discarded the thought forcefully, set his jaw, and then opened his Sheikah Slate and activated the warp function.

The nearest shrine turned out to be only a fairly short walk away, buried among some of the smaller ruins. He explained this to the others as confidently as he could when he met them at the bottom of the tower, and even Urbosa made appropriately agreeable noises as he mapped out a rough route from each shrine to the next, holding up his slate for them to examine.

He placed it at his hip as they started to approach the ruins, and slowed down dramatically as they started to come across half-buried, broken-down machines.

They looked like… like massive versions of the one he’d encountered in Oman Au’s shrine. And they sent enough heavy, implacable dread rippling through him that they made his footsteps falter.

“Onward, Link,” Urbosa reminded him firmly, and he gave a distracted nod, unable to take his eyes off the one he was passing. It felt like it would-

He heard a sound from in front of him, great and grinding. His head snapped up.

The buried machine directly in front of him had lit up with a whine, and it was looking straight at him, its single eye bright with power. Link’s chest throbbed, and with a shout loud enough to hurt his throat, he grasped blindly for the weapon strapped to his back, the nearly-shattered rusty sword, and threw it at the machine, panic making his motions rough and uncoordinated.

It shattered against it with no visible effect.

“Run!” Urbosa snapped, and Link made a snatching motion at Mipha’s wrist, missed, and stumbled into a run anyway when he saw he’d caught her attention. Mipha shouted too, then, but he didn’t quite catch it.

The next thing he knew, he was halfway to the temple the old man had pointed out to him, his lungs aching with the strain of his breath. A bokoblin that had caught sight of him swung its bat with a screech, and with strength Link hadn’t realized he possessed, he shoved it off the edge with a roar.

Then he glanced back to make sure the others were still with him – they were, if significantly behind – and kept running.

They didn’t catch up until Link was inside the temple, tucking himself behind the set of statues at the head of the temple, his legs folding under him as he wrapped his arms around himself, shaking. His face was wet, his wrist in his mouth again as he chewed on it in a struggle to calm himself, his breath so fast and shallow that it was making him lightheaded.

Why was he so scared?

The other four murmured for a few moments once they found him, and then Daruk came and lowered himself in front of Link, kneeling on the ground.

“You seem scared, brother,” he said, unbearably kind.

Link took a deep, shuddering breath, took his wrist from his mouth, and signed, Hate them. Hate them, hate them, hate them, hate them-

“I know,” Daruk said, in a deep and soothing murmur. “I know, but you’re alright, brother. You’re safe in here. Ain’t nothing around to get you.”

Link nodded, reaching up to rub at his face with the heel of his palm. Sorry. I’m scared. Sorry. Where were the machines, were any of the ones here alive too, was that one going to dig itself out of the ground and come for him?

“Nothing to be sorry for, little brother.”

Can’t catch my breath, Link managed after a moment, hands shaking hard enough to making his sign almost illegible. It felt shameful to admit, and the way Daruk’s expression softened just made it worse.

“I know, brother. You’re breathing too quickly. Count with me and breathe in. One… two… three…”

Outside, a bokoblin snarled. A rock tumbled down a hill. Something clattered, and it was coming closer, closer-

Link breathed in, slow and struggling.

“Breathe out, one… two… three…”

For a while, that was all; Daruk and Mipha sat on either side of Link while he tried to get himself to settle, patting his thighs and chewing on his fingers. Revali and Urbosa stood like silent sentries at each doorway, keeping watch, and Link discovered that that was reassuring, too.

Nothing would surprise them. Nothing would surprise him.

Eventually, when he could breathe again, Link reached out for Mipha, missed, and attracted her attention anyway. Am I acting too strange?

“You’ve lost your memory,” Mipha said softly. “I’m not sure you could be acting ‘too strange’ for that. It’s okay, Link.”

Link bit his cheek, unconvinced. Urbosa and Revali don’t like me.

“Revali is always like this,” Mipha assured him, attracting a scoff from the Rito that she steadfastly ignored. “Urbosa is… more complicated. But she’s worried about someone.”

Link hesitated. Zelda? he asked, guessing at the fingerspelling.

Mipha’s eyes shadowed, and she nodded, signing a quick princess Z, which Link guessed was Zelda’s name-sign. He wondered what she was like. Regal, to earn a name like that? Or picky?

Were they friends?

“She’s known Zelda since the girl was a child,” Mipha explained. “Much like you and I, but closer – I believe she was friends with Zelda’s mother.”

Link tucked the bits of information away like something precious, tempted to enter it into his Sheikah Slate. He almost asked who he had been, too. How they knew each other. Since they were young, Mipha had said?

He almost asked why his skin was bare, too. What he’d failed to do so thoroughly that he’d made no difference to anyone.

“Urbosa’s a bit abrupt at the best of times, too,” Daruk interrupted, making Link look over at him. He grinned at Link, eyes bright. “Don’t worry too much, little brother. She don’t mean anything by it.”

Link nodded uncertainly. They’re not mad?

“Not at you,” Daruk said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Link took a breath, nodded, and then stood up, brushing himself off roughly. The sun is starting to set, but I think I can maybe still manage a shrine before we settle down tonight. He hesitated, then added quickly, Not the one in the ruins.

What if they were all surrounded by the machines? What would he do then?

“We’ll figure something out for that,” Mipha promised earnestly, standing up with him. The motion attracted the attention of Urbosa and Revali, who turned towards them, the former only for a moment before returning to scanning the horizon. At Revali’s arched eyebrow, Mipha elaborated, “For the shrine in the ruins.”

Revali muttered something darkly, and then said more clearly, “There’s a white-mane lynel between here and the second-nearest shrine. We’ll have to steer around it, perhaps skirt the cliff edge.”

The name stirred the faintest recognition in the back of his brain, and with it a faint sense of anxiety, but nothing like the way Daruk and Urbosa swore and Mipha hissed. He gave them a questioning look, and Daruk grimaced.

“Lynels are tough at the best of the times, and it’s pretty obvious you’re still recovering,” he explained lowly. “Plus white-mane lynels are nearly as bad as they get. Revali’s right. We’ll have to steer clear.”

Link nodded, still not quite understanding, but certainly getting the idea. I can skirt a cliff edge, he agreed. Anything that meant he didn’t have to go right back to the ruins.

Mipha gave him a pleased smile. “That’s good, Link. I wanted to ask you something before we went though.” Link cocked his head. “That sword you took- do you remember how to use it?”

Link hesitated. It was enough that Mipha deflated, just a little, and he felt like a failure all over again.

“We’ll review and see if it helps,” Mipha said determinedly, and then walked him through the motions with her own empty hands, taking him through a sword drill step by step.

Halfway through, his body recognized it, and he sped up to complete it on his own under her proud smile. He all but beamed back, relieved in a way he hadn’t been since he’d woken up. The sword felt more comfortable in his hands.

“Muscle memory,” Revali said with a nod – some of the tension had drained out of him, too, Link realized. “Maybe now you’ll stop avoiding the damn bokoblins and we can actually get somewhere.”

Link’s smile fell, and Mipha frowned at him. “Revali.”

Revali looked unrepentant.

Link nodded silently, and Urbosa turned to cock an eyebrow at him.

“Ready to go?” she asked, in a tone that suggested she would have strong words for him if he refused. He bit his cheek, glanced out the shattered wall to the broken-down machines that still gave him that awful aching nausea, and nodded anyway. If any of them woke up, he’d just run again. Run somewhere else.

He checked his map and started walking.

When he came across a bokoblin camp at the bottom of a hill, noticed the rocks at the top, and pushed the rocks down into the camp to crush them- Urbosa actually laughed. Then she reminded him to loot their weapons and their parts, the cracked-off horns and broken fangs that Mipha admitted would be useful for elixirs if he caught some insects or lizards to brew with them.

It was possible Urbosa didn’t hate him after all.

Their group silently rearranged once they came within sight of the lynel, a large and intimidating beast in the far distance. Revali took the front position, Daruk the back; Mipha stayed by Link’s left, dangerously close to the cliff edge, and Urbosa to his right, keeping a sharp eye on the lynel itself. Mipha motioned Link down, and he crouched and discovered that he knew how to move almost silently, if he wanted to.

And from the reactions of the others, he did. He kept a wary eye on the lynel alongside Urbosa, and crept past it. He hesitated by the camp, glancing up at Urbosa, but with a grim face, she motioned him on, and Link snuck past that too.

By the time they reached the broken-down cabin, it was dark, and the old man was sitting on a log by another fire, this one with a pot set over it. He looked up and waved cheerily as they approached, a small quirk to his lips again.

“A spot of trouble?” he asked sympathetically, motioning for them to sit.

“He balked at the guardians in the ruins,” Urbosa said curtly, kneeling instead of sitting, in such a way that it would be easy to rise quickly.

The old man’s smile fell a little, making Link flinch, and he sighed. “Well, I suppose that’s to be expected,” he murmured, and then, to Link, “You will have no end of chances with it, of course. There are two more that you may tackle first if you prefer.”

Link nodded without looking up, and then grabbed his bow, stood up, and walked away. He’d seen a boar or two in the forest, and there was no food in the pot. He was hungry again.

It took a couple of tries, but before long he had a boar shot and (somewhat sloppily, he recognized) cleaned; he washed himself in the pond and then came back, and the old man let out a pleased hum when he saw Link’s prize.

“Ah, meat,” he sighed, while Link checked the pot and started to pull out some of the other food he’d grabbed on the way back- honey, Hylian mushrooms, a couple of apples. “You know, a few weeks ago I came up with the most marvelous recipe-”

Link listened with half an ear while he set to preparing a meal, surprised to find that he remembered this fairly well. Well enough that he was close to smiling again by the time the food went into the pot, cut up into pieces and glazed generously in honey. Enough for everyone, even.

When he offered it to them, though, each of them refused. At his crestfallen expression, Mipha said gently, “It should keep wonderfully if you store it in your Sheikah Slate.”

Not entirely consoled, Link nonetheless put all of it away save for what he himself wanted to eat, and the matter was not mentioned again.

The sun was setting by the time he finished, and he was yawning almost every other breath, exhaustion knocking the wind out of him and making his limbs heavier than ever. He rubbed at his face, annoyed, and the old man chuckled.

“You may stay in my hut tonight if you need, my friend. In these times, we’d best stick together. Remember that.”

Link smiled at him gratefully, and signed, Thank you.

He had a creeping suspicion that he knew what the old man’s spicy ‘meat and seafood’ dish was missing. He hoped none of his friends would mind him doubling back to the lake; he thought he remembered seeing some fish there when he’d gone for the sword.

Chapter Text

Urbosa was a little annoyed, but Mipha was delighted, and Daruk gave him a loud and booming laugh. (Revali had rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, but Link was coming to expect that from him.)

In the early hours of the afternoon, Link surprised the old man with what was apparently a nearly perfect replica of the dish he’d talked so much about the night before. The man’s delighted surprise made Link feel warm, but not as warm as the warm doublet the man gave him as thanks.

It was much more comfortable than the old shirt he’d been wearing, if a little loose.

For good measure, Link brewed a few elixirs under Mipha’s direction – a hasty elixir with some hightail lizards, a mighty one with some beetles, a spicy one just in case – and then checked his map one last time, waved to the old man, and left, already wearing the warm doublet.

From Owa Daim, he got another rune, one that stopped time, and a ball of magic that pulsed in his chest alongside the first.

A trek across the mountain led him to Keh Namut, where he got a third rune, to make ice with, and another orb to match.

Then, followed by the murmurs of his friends, he climbed to the top of the mountain, sat there, and watched the beast writhe around the castle until the sun set.

I’m going to save her, he signed with conviction, eyes on the distance. But it was hard to make himself believe it. Just the thought of going near the ruins made him cold, and he rubbed his arms apprehensively.

The light gleamed oddly off the back of his hand, and he looked down at something he had just started to notice, coming out of Owa Daim’s shrine.

It looked like soul paint, the faintest shade off the color of his skin, except it was too perfect, too crisp: three triangles arranged into a larger one, with tight corners and straight lines. It felt familiar; it felt important.

He wished he understood more about what he was meant to do and why.

Daruk and Mipha finally teamed up to coax him back down, and he hiked partway down the mountain again, crushed another bokoblin camp under boulders, and slept by the fire, guarded by his friends, one hand on his as-yet-unused rusty sword. He felt jittery and on-edge, but that didn’t keep him from being exhausted enough to pass out almost as soon as his head hit the ground, forgetting to even eat.

Link woke the next morning with cotton in his mouth and something awful and sickening crawling on his bones. The sun gleamed too brightly off the snow; the fire had burnt out overnight. His friends didn’t seem bothered, already awake and talking quietly, though they stopped when he stirred and pushed himself tentatively upright.

Something about the motion made him grind his teeth, a nearly painful sense of vertigo sweeping through him. Like just the effort of keeping track of how his limbs moved was setting his nerves aflame. It was worse than the lingering stiffness and ache from the exertion of the previous day, climbing and jumping and running around that his body wasn’t used to.

“Morning, little brother,” Daruk greeted loudly, eyes crinkling in a grin as he watched Link move. “Ready to get down to cracking rocks?”

Link hummed reluctantly, low in his throat. He needed to keep moving – couldn’t let himself be any more of a disappointment. He snuck a glance down at the road, some way down from where he was, and mentally followed it to its inevitable end.

To the abbey ruins, and the massive glowing eye as big as his head that made his heart race hard enough to hurt. A deafening chirp of alarm as it focused on him.

He felt sick.

Not now, he signed without looking at anyone, and fumbled for his sword, got up, and paused for a split second, mentally running over the sword drill Mipha had helped him remember two days before.

He took a breath, feeling eyes on him, and took it step by step, slow and deliberate.

The motions felt familiar, almost as if they were bringing his body back into line. His nerves still threatened to spark painfully with each practiced swing. Twice he turned too fast and had to clench his jaw against something like nausea. The three spirit orbs the monks had gifted him hummed loudly in Link’s chest.

He didn’t deserve them. He didn’t deserve the patience of the people with him or the old man waiting for Link to do as he’d asked.

Link completed the set, and without hesitation started it again.

What if he failed? What if he wasn’t ever able to get to that last shrine? Urbosa had been very sharp in her command to flee – how hard would that machine, that guardian hit if he was too slow?

Link tasted bile, and it was only then that he realized his stomach was roiling.

As he completed his third repetition, Mipha stood up, tilting her head up to look at him with gentle understanding that made Link want to look away. She stood beside him and, without a word, started a different set, modeling it slowly enough for him to follow. Link copied her, and this one felt just as familiar.

He swallowed thickly and nodded, trying to convey his gratitude. He ran through it twice more, speeding up with each circuit, and Mipha showed him a third, quiet and patient.

He just needed his hands to stop shaking. If his hands stopped shaking, he’d be steady enough to go.

“We should get going,” Urbosa said as he completed his second cycle of that one, her voice tinged with the lightest censure. “There’s really no time to waste.”

Revali grunted in agreement.

Irrational terror chilled Link’s stomach, crystallizing into spiked horror. He didn’t look at any of them before he stuck his sword in the snow and retreated, everything finally tipping over into the realm of ‘too much.’

In less than a minute, Link had crammed himself into a cave to rub his thighs and scratch his arms and hide. The darkness and the small space comforted him, but only a little. Every loud noise made him rub his ear against the cave wall, and he couldn’t make himself process the conversation coming from outside. His ears rang with a distant, tense whine.

What was wrong with him?

Eventually, Mipha came along and sat just outside the little alcove. Her voice was soothing, pitched low and soft, the green of her palm clear as she held her hand out peacefully. It took Link a moment to grudgingly tune into her actual words.

“-like to run your hands over things when you can,” Mipha was telling him with too much patience. “Why don’t you play with the snow for a bit? I think it will help. You always seem to run hot when you’re overstimulated.”

Link made a displeased grunt in his throat, but reached down to run his fingers through the rough snow anyway. The top layer was stiff, packed ice, like it had been there for a long time, melting together and refreezing. He broke it up in his fingers, crushing it under his thick gloves, until it was powdery and loose, dampening his gloves a little.

He scooped up another handful and crushed it against his legs, grinding it down roughly. It felt… nice. Better. He repeated it, rubbing it against his arms where he’d left rough red lines from scratching. It sapped the heat from him, coaxing him back into himself, and he exhaled quietly.

Slowly, laboriously, Link unwound, until he felt like he could breathe again. His fingers were numb, and he was starting to shiver. His nose was running in the icy air, and the tips of his ears were whipped raw. But his skeleton had stopped trying to crawl out of his flesh.

He tipped his head against the cave wall, reached up to tug tiredly at his hair, and after a few minutes of quiet, he looked up at Mipha and signed, I think I can climb down the mountain now.

He didn’t promise anything else, but Mipha smiled at him anyway, warm and pleased. “That’s great, Link. We’ll go when you’re ready.”

Link nodded, hid his face against the cave wall for a few more minutes, and then stood up, shook himself off, and started to trek down the trail, making his winding way to the gate.

“Oh, finally,” he clearly heard Revali mutter, and then he was taking off and flying down with a flap. Link wondered vaguely why he’d waited in the first place.

Urbosa fell in just to the side of Link, arms crossed and visibly impatient. “You should take the last shrine today,” she said without hesitation, stern eyes on Link. “You’ve taken quite enough time as it is.”

Link shook his head, refusing to look at her. I can’t. I’m too… He gestured, vague and wordless, unable to explain how stretched-thin and shaky he still felt.

“You can,” Urbosa said firmly, and neither Daruk or Mipha disagreed with her.

Link made the mistake of looking at her. There was an edge of desperation to her expression, belying the sternness of her voice.

“Zelda needs you to,” Urbosa added, something shadowed and worried in her eyes.

Link stared at her, heart speeding up unpleasantly again, then nodded. Urbosa nodded back, some of the tension leaking out of her shoulders in unmistakable relief.

The walk down the mountain, around the bokoblin camps, and sneaking past the lynel was stiflingly quiet. Daruk commented on their surroundings a couple times – on the bomb barrels in one of the camps, on the sledgehammer lying abandoned on a cliff ledge, on a little pond with a few fish that would have saved them two trips past the lynel – but when no one moved to answer, he eventually subsided, visibly dissatisfied.

Finally, they reached the ruins, just coming into sight of the largest cluster of half-buried guardians outside of the temple. Thirty feet from the entrance, Link’s legs locked up and refused to move. As soon as he came closer, they were going to pour out of the ruins like spiders. He knew it. He could see it.

Ears twitching with fear, hands clasped to his elbows, Link just stared at the entrance in the distance, unable to unfreeze from his place. When Mipha spoke to him, he couldn’t reply. He couldn’t even hear her.

All he could hear was the whine of the waking machine. The bright single eye staring directly at him. His breath dragged and his blood pounded.

They were coming. They were waiting for him.

Time passed and the sun dipped into the horizon, and suddenly Urbosa was between him and the ruins entrance, expression heavy and the yellow paint on her cheek cast in shadow. He refocused on her, slow and disoriented, and she sighed quietly, expression softening in resignation.

“That’s enough, Link. You did well to try. We’ll return to the cabin,” she said, and the concession sounded like failure and Link was too relieved to care. She turned and walked away, taking the cliff path past the lynel, and he finally, finally, unfroze enough to follow.

The sun had set by the time they reached the old man’s cabin, and Revali was waiting, scowling with impatience and seated at the table. The old man just smiled warmly.

“How did it go?” he asked cheerfully.

Instead of answering, Link sat himself in the corner, curled up, and started twisting one ear in his fingers. His breath was still coming hard.

“He got the two mountain shrines,” Mipha assured the old man. “But he’s struggling with the shrine in the ruins. Must he really go through that?"

“He’ll need it,” the old man said firmly, and Urbosa stormed in front of him and started arguing, low and cool.

Link tuned it out, trying to force his racing heart and crawling skin to settle again. The hand not twisting his ear went to his mouth again, his jaw clenching around his gloved knuckles to force himself to calm as the tension rose. Urbosa was trying to convince the old man to give up the paraglider without the last treasure, he registered dimly.

“If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle,” he heard the old man say calmly, and Urbosa swore loud enough to make a couple birds fly away in a flutter.

Link turned his face into the wall, still curled up, and let that play over again in his head.

If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle.

If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle.

If he can’t get over his fear of guardians, he’ll never get into the castle.

Link needed to get into that castle.

Link spent most of the next day alone, exploring the plateau quietly.

Picking up a rock on a tall boulder revealed a little leaf creature that introduced itself as a Korok, and gave him a little seed that he stored in his Sheikah Slate. By the end of the day he’d found three more, and he was smiling a little, almost having fun looking for them. He found another old sword on in one of the ruins. He even found some arrows, a chest of fire arrows and one of ice and a few bundles that he snuck out of bokoblin camps while they were preoccupied.

He roasted some mushrooms for a noontime meal and then shot down another boar, too, cleaning and butchering it with just a little more finesse than last time. Storing it was easy, and Mipha had assured him it would stay good. Link hoped she was right; it would be nice to have it on hand.

He jumped into the lake – encountering another Korok when he did – and then scrubbed himself roughly off, swam to shore, and pulled himself out.

Then he grabbed his Sheikah Slate, warped back to the Owa Daim shrine, and dropped carefully from ledge to ledge back down to where he could run across the rough tree bridge and to the cabin.

The others were still there. He relaxed a little, relieved, and waved. Daruk waved back.

“Everything go well, little brother?” Daruk asked, worry so well disguised that Link almost missed it. Link nodded and held out his new stock of arrows for Daruk to see. Daruk chuckled. “Pretty good! Get some food for yourself too?”

Link nodded again, and didn’t startle when Urbosa came up beside him, looking over his shoulder.

“Not bad for a day’s work,” she allowed, and then, surprising no one, “Will you be ready to tackle the shrine tomorrow?”

Link bit his cheek, assessed himself the best his could, and then shook his head decisively. He felt more stable than he had the day before, the rhythmic routine of the day’s work helping to steady him, but underneath that he still felt wobbly and nervous. He knew that he would freeze up again if he went too close to the ruins.

I’m going to hunt monsters tomorrow, he said instead, meeting her eyes evenly. I need the practice.

Urbosa’s lips thinned, but she didn’t argue. Instead she nodded. “Take one of us with you. You’re not yourself.”

Link didn’t miss that if he had been himself, it would have been fine. Was he good at hunting monsters, before? Was he skilled with the sword that felt so familiar in his hand?

He hesitated, and then checked quickly, I did use a sword, didn’t I?

It was a moment before Urbosa answered, and he glanced at her.

“Yes,” she said at last, voice soft. “You did. You had a great array of training, but you preferred your sword.”

Link reached up a little towards his sheath, almost able to feel the weight of a different sword entirely – but then the memory was gone, and he just nodded, looking away again.

He made a meal for himself. He went to sleep in the old man’s cabin. He woke up.

“I’m coming with you to keep your foolish self from dying,” Revali told Link curtly, and refused to take no for an answer. Link almost laughed, surprised, but just nodded, heading off to skirt around the lynel and make his way to the forest; he’d seen two bokoblin camps there previously, and he wanted to try and clear them out.

He thought he could do it, today. If he tried hard enough.

With the first one, he was careful; he crept into one of the trees nearby, took careful aim, and shot his precious ice arrows at each of the four attendant bokoblins, encasing them in a shell that would take precious minutes to break. Then he took his sword, marched in, and shattered them.

The bow felt nearly as familiar as the sword did, but Revali still corrected his grip and his sightline a little, making sure he aimed true, and stood back to watch, narrow-eyed, when Link finally went in.

When Link returned, shoulder aching where one boko club had caught it, Revali gave him a curt nod. “Is that enough to sate your apparent bloodlust for the day?” he asked dryly.

Heart racing with adrenaline, Link shook his head and held out the stock of arrows he’d managed to gather from the camp. Between that and the fangs and horns, he didn’t regret his raid at all, and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Revali sighed.

“Goddess save us all,” he muttered, and then followed Link as he picked his way over to the second monster camp.

This one was better watched and a little more difficult; carefully aimed arrows took out each of the standing sentries one by one, leaving them to collapse where they stood, gurgles nearly inaudible to anyone standing too far away.

Halfway through the raid, Link’s rusty sword finally gave out, and he had to duck, roll, and grab a weapon at random from his slate, swinging the heavy hammer at the monsters before they could land more than a couple more blows.

It was only after the dust settled that Link became aware of Revali’s loud swearing. He turned, panting and confused, and Revali was storming towards him, beak clicking furiously, and obviously checking Link for injuries, from the way he snarled at Link’s hurt shoulder. The green patch covering his shoulder feathers flexed and flashed.

“Of all the reckless, pointless, hot-headed and moronic-” the Rito was growling, pacing around Link in tight circles before stomping to a halt in front of him. “Why on Earth didn’t you snipe the rest with all those arrows you were so keen on?”

Link almost took a step back, confused. I need to practice? he suggested uncertainly. Revali stared at him, and Link did take a step back this time, unsure. I’m supposed to fight, aren’t I?

That was what all of this seemed to be leading up to. That was what felt right.

That was what everyone seemed to expect of him.

For a long, tense moment, Revali stared at him, then scoffed and turned away. “Well, you certainly seem eager enough,” he bit out.

The conversation was apparently ended, since Revali had oriented himself to keep from seeing Link’s reply. Link scowled at his back, then turned and walked away, scanning the trees for any remaining patrols and listening to the birds and squirrels rustle in the trees.

He slid into a dip in the forest and sullenly knelt down, picking some of the mushrooms that were growing around the edges. Each went into his slate for later, giving him a good stock of them, and slowly the tension eased out of his shoulders even as his fingers started to tremble.

Revali was maybe right. It would have been safer to snipe the last bokoblins rather than going in just for practice, and it wouldn’t do to get into bad habits. But Urbosa had said he used a sword-

Something rumbled. Link whipped around. His heart skipped a beat.

A towering creature of stone pulled itself from the ground with a rattle like a landslide, shook the dust off itself. It had no eyes, but it had two massive arms like clubs, heavy and intimidating.

Time seemed to slow down as Link’s heartbeat sped up. The stone creature dragged itself around to face him, and raised one arm. In response, Link threw himself to the side, reached for a boko spear he hadn’t yet put away, and threw it at the creature. It shattered against its body without any apparent effect, and it didn’t miss a beat as it threw its arm at him.

Link rolled away, and it just barely missed him, sending flecks of gravel flying, cutting into his face and arms.

He could almost hear the exact moment Revali turned and noticed what was happening from the sheer volume of the Rito’s shout. “GODDESS-FUCKING PRIDE OF A BOKOBLIN MOTHER-”

Blood roaring in his ears, Link kicked himself upright and grabbed for his bow, shooting at the stone beast again. Like the spear, the arrow shattered ineffectually against the rock face.

Another arm came flying towards Link. Time slowed, and Link twisted away, heart racing so hard his chest ached.

“The ore node!” he heard Revali screaming, harsh with panic Link hadn’t yet heard from him. “You need to hit the damn ore node, Link!”

What ore node? Link wanted to scream back, but he didn’t have time to find Revali and a line of sight and-

When he turned back, the rock beast was slumped on the ground, and Link saw it: a black, jagged protrusion on its back, always on the side facing away from Link.

Instantly, Link turned, scampered away, and, as the beast pulled a new arm from the ground and slumped down for a second, he climbed a tree as quickly as he could, thankful for the thick gloves that protected his hands.

Then, safely among the branches, he took careful aim at the black ore chunk, and fired. The arrow struck true, and the creature, arm freshly retrieved, slumped back down and did not get up for several seconds.

Link allowed himself a feral grin, fired again, and wasted no time in scampering back down and beelining straight towards the monster. He managed to clamber up onto it just as it stood up again, great and swaying, and Link grinned, eyes glittering and wild.

Then grabbed the hammer off his back, and slammed it down onto the ore. Then he did it again. The rock monster turned, great and swaying, and Link held on grimly until it steadied, and then struck again with a shout.

Revali was screeching, harsh, grating birdlike screams of outrage and indignation.

On the next blow, the monster broke apart, and Link tumbled to the ground, panting and laughing to himself, scraped up from the rocks despite his clothing and already shaking from the rush.

The next thing he knew, Revali was swooping down next to him, eyes wide with panic and anger, and Link turned over and grinned up at him, chest shaking with uncontrollable giggles.

“Oh, you think this is funny you, you-” the Rito hissed out, and then apparently became lost for words, gesticulating meaninglessly. Link tipped his head back and laughed harder, feeling an ache set into his muscles the longer he laid there, and finally, Revali gave a put-upon sigh. “Oh, laugh it up, you insolent fool. Goddess above, I let you out of my sight for two seconds…”

Link grinned for a while longer, and then eventually, finally, rolled over and pushed himself to his knees, then started to gather up the shattered ore chunks that made up the stone creature’s remains- chunks of amber, ruby, opal…

He didn’t ask why Revali didn’t step in, and Revali didn’t explain.

Once he was done with that, stumbling to his feet, Revali jerked his head in the direction of the cabin, and Link obediently ambled after him, tucking his Sheikah Slate back at his side, buzzing with pleasure.

By the time they were past the lynel, though, the high was starting to wear off, and Link’s limbs were getting heavier with each step. He trudged onward towards the cabin, ignoring Revali’s grumbles, and smiled a little as Mipha got up from beside the fire and hurried towards them. Daruk waved. Link nodded back vaguely and stifled a yawn.

His hands were shaking, and he didn’t think he had much longer before his knees gave out. He was thankful for the Sheikah Slate that stored his items; it meant he didn’t have to carry their weight.

“What happened?” Mipha was asking anxiously, hovering beside Link and gaze shifting worriedly between him and Revali. “He’s all scratched up, is that from the bokoblin?”

Revali tossed his head, scoffing loudly.

“As if,” he bit out, glowering at Mipha, who set her jaw and glowered right back. Revali softened a little, reluctantly. “No- I’m afraid I forgot about the talus in that forest, and lost sight of Link for just a minute. He ran right into it.”

Mipha gasped, hands flying up to her mouth, and spun towards Link. “Goodness, Link, are you-”

Link opened his Sheikah Slate, let an opal drop into his hand, and offered it to her with a small, satisfied smile. Her eyes went wide, staring from him to the opal and back to him.

Then she smiled, gestured it gently back towards him, and asked, “I take it you were able to handle it, then?”

Link put the opal away and nodded, then stifled another yawn and sat down hard, curling up against the log. He wondered vaguely where the old man was.

“He appeared to injure his shoulder, but it wasn’t severe,” Revali continued, audibly ruffled. “It shouldn’t hold him up at all. All things considered, he dealt with it quite handily.”

“Hey, little brother,” Daruk said suddenly, voice surprisingly soft and only a foot from Link’s face. Link’s ear twitched, and he reluctantly pried his eyes open to send a questioning look up at Daruk. He was starting to shiver with cold, but Daruk just gave him a small grin. “Sounds like you did a great job out there. Revali says the forest’s all clear.”

Link gave him a small, dazed grin in return, nodding vaguely. He hadn’t looked closely, but that had seemed to be the case, and he’d definitely gotten both of the camps. And the talus.

Daruk chuckled softly. “Can you sit up for me, little bro? Just need you to do one or two things for me before you crash.”

Link grunted, but sat up obediently, rubbing at his face. What?

“Take out your Sheikah Slate and open it up,” Daruk coached, and Link obeyed. “Now pick out something easy to eat, maybe something you can just roast and eat, and a stamina elixir.”

Link obeyed, sticking a couple of mushrooms on a spare boko spear and putting them by the fire, then flopped back. Then, when Daruk cleared his throat meaningfully, Link sighed, sat back up, and took out a stamina elixir.

“Great,” Daruk said warmly. “Drink up, little bro, it’ll keep you from being so sore in the morning.”

Link sighed, but that sounded like a good thing, so he chugged it back anyway, put the bottle away, and gave Daruk a faintly sullen look that made the Goron laugh.

“You gotta give your little Hylian belly some fuel before you fall asleep after all that,” Daruk reminded him, eyes glittering. “Trust me, you’ll thank me for this tomorrow. Think you can clean yourself up in the pond while you wait?”

Link sighed again, then got up and stumbled over to the pond, pulling off his gloves and shakily scrubbing at the scratches on his face and ankles.

Ten minutes later, Mipha called him back, and he stumbled over. He sat down, barely able to keep his eyes open, and ate the mushrooms without tasting them. Someone murmured to him, low and firm – he thought maybe Urbosa – and he followed them blindly into the cabin, fell onto the bed, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

He thought he liked his friends. He’d chosen well, before.

Chapter Text

When he woke up the next morning, Mipha was waiting for him, sitting primly in a chair and idling quietly. She smiled at him when she saw him sitting up, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Urbosa scouted out a route to the ruins shrine that doesn’t pass any guardians,” she said, voice pitched low as if to maintain the quiet. “I can take you through. Are you ready to try?”

Link didn’t feel ready. He was sore from his activity the day before, his whole body aching, especially where his shoulder was bruised from the boko clubs, throbbing faintly. He still felt thin and tired, harshly vulnerable. The thought of the guardians threatened to make him freeze.

But Mipha wouldn’t lie to him, and he didn’t want to go close to them, but he thought, today, he could. If he needed to.

And he did need to, if he wanted to get off this plateau.

He set his jaw and nodded, turning and sliding off the bed. It wasn’t quite enough to miss Mipha’s look of relief.

The two of them took their time while the rest stayed behind, Urbosa glowering into the fire with her arms crossed and Daruk waving as they left. Link swallowed, focusing all of his attention on Mipha’s back as she led the way.

Past the thin forest. Past the little bokoblin camp and the lynel. Over the crumbling walls and on to the ruins that crawled with the corpses of long-dead machines, and a few that were- that were-

Link turned his head away, keeping the green soul-paint on Mipha’s hand just in his line of sight, and watched the horizon as he followed her blindly.

To the castle, he repeated to himself. He just needed to go to the castle.

Mipha came to a stop, and he risked a look at her. Her expression was dim and sad, but she gave him a small smile anyway.

“The shrine is just on the other side of this wall,” she said quietly. “It’s safe in there; the doorway is blocked off, and there are no guardians in that room. I promise.”

Link looked at her, and then nodded stiffly. He could just see the top of the shrine over the wall, at least. He could probably go right in.

He had to.

Thank you, he signed, and then he reached up, dug his fingers in, and pulled himself up the wall.

“You’re welcome,” he heard from behind him, and when he glanced over his shoulder, Mipha had sat down, cross-legged and patient, waiting for him.

After King Rhoam dissolved into the air, nothing but a spirit from the beginning, Link sat in the window of the temple, legs dangling, for long enough that his friends sent Revali up to check on him.

Unexpectedly, Revali just sat beside him for a while, glowering at the ground, until Link himself finally turned to look at him. When Revali looked back, brow arching, Link asked abruptly, Why don’t I have any soulmarks?

Revali let out a dry huff, looking away and then, forcefully, back at him, expression dry. “That’s what you’re worried about in all this?”

Link blinked at him, feeling numb. There was a lot that he was worried about, but that had been on his mind, and it was all he could think to ask, knowing that his friends had been aware all along.

He felt like he already knew half of it, on some level, and yet at the same time, none of it felt familiar at all. It felt unreal.

But it was true. He knew it was true.

When Link didn’t answer, Revali gave a put-upon sigh.

“I don’t know,” he said plainly. “You’ve always been painted, but they faded over time while you were asleep. It might have to do with your power, or your magic. We have no idea.” He scoffed. “Knowing you, you’ll be painted again soon enough.”

Painted? Link asked. The term resonated warmly, but he couldn’t bring the meaning to mind.

“…Someone who leaves a mark on nearly everyone they meet, and is marked in return,” Revali explained, disinterested tone belied by his words. “I’ve never known you to touch someone without leaving at least a faint impression.”

Link’s mouth opened a little, surprised, and he looked down at his hands as if a mark would suddenly manifest.

And then he realized one had, so slight as to be easy to overlook – but one of his hands was a shade or two more yellow than the other, on the palm and fingers of the hand with the barely-visible triangle mark. He held it out to Revali, who glanced down and then snorted.

“It figures,” was all he said, and then, “King Rhoam is gone, then?”

Link nodded. You knew he was a spirit? he asked.

Revali snorted again, nodding once. Then, uncharacteristically, he hesitated.

“Link,” he said slowly. “You do realize…”

He looked up to meet Link’s eyes intensely, gaze boring into him, and Link tucked his hands against himself, suddenly jittery. His fingers skimmed over the scar-roughened skin of his forearms. Revali exhaled, something like pity twisting through his expression.

“Never mind,” he said dismissively, and leapt off to swoop through the air back to the ground.

Link lingered for a few moments, sick and tense, and then braced himself, grabbed the paraglider, and followed him down back to Oman Au’s shrine.

It was a strain on his arms, he decided with a wince, stumbling a little on landing, but nothing he couldn’t get used to. He tucked it under one arm, glancing down the sheer cliffsides of the plateau, and then back up to each of the others, finally settling on Urbosa.

Do you know the way? Link asked her – he thought he would find it eventually, especially with the help of his Sheikah Slate’s map, but the world looked vast and he was as likely as not to get lost on the way.

Urbosa deflated a little, giving him a small, grateful smile, and nodded down the cliff beside them. “That’s the start of the road there – it used to go through the wall and up onto the plateau, but it’s blocked up now. It should lead us through an old outpost, then through the mountains and to Dueling Peaks stable. The drop isn’t bad, as long as you make good use of that paraglider.”

Link nodded, and glanced at Mipha next. I’ll meet you at the bottom? he offered, trusting that they had a way to get down. She gave him a small smile, eyes shadowed, and nodded, and Link turned and leapt off the cliff, bracing against the wind to steer himself down.

The motions felt familiar. He thought this, too, was something his body had done before.

At the bottom were… well.

There were more ruins.

Link considered his stock of weapons, how quickly they broke, and the large moblins he could see milling about in the distance, and steeled himself to start exploring the ruins.

They were, of course, obviously wrecked, so long ago now that much of what must have been there had simply crumbled into a miserable sort of wood-debris carpet. Here and there a mostly-intact piece of furniture still remained – a desk, a bookshelf, a weapon stand – but most of it was in crumbles.

It felt… somehow worse, knowing that he had been directly involved in the calamity. That he had tried and failed to stop it. That that had very nearly been the death of him.

That there were people who had stood with him to try and stop it, who he might never know again.

Link dug up two rusty broadswords and an old claymore, each of which he tucked away, before the others met up with him again. Gratifyingly, each of them seemed to instantly understand what he was doing, and spread out to silently help in his search. For nearly an hour, the only sounds were of soft calls as one of them uncovered a usable weapon, and they only stopped when Link’s Sheikah Slate refused to accept any more.

The mood was heavy as they moved on, and some part of Link was grateful. He wasn’t alone in his suffocating and implacable grief for a kingdom he could no longer remember.

He wondered which part of Hyrule he had grown up in.

The quiet carried them nearly to sunset, when Link finished sneaking past the large moblins pacing the path and almost fell right on top of another shrine.

He hesitated. Urbosa sighed, and then waved him in.

“Go,” she murmured, feigning disinterest. “It’ll help you regain your strength.”

Link glanced at Mipha, who nodded encouragingly at him, and went inside. He didn’t regret it; the soldier’s claymore he found inside was by far the best weapon he’d picked up so far, intact and rust-free and well-balanced. And the pulse of magic Bosh Kala left thrumming in his chest was fast becoming a familiar sensation.

When he came back out, the others were talking about him.

“We just don’t know much,” Daruk said plainly, oblivious to Link’s return to the shrine entrance. “We didn’t exactly chat about his early life during the calamity, you know?”

Urbosa huffed quietly. “There must be someone with some idea. Mipha- do you at least know how long he journeyed between obtaining the sword and becoming Zelda’s guard? It can’t have been too long.”

Mipha shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. We met when he was four, but I didn’t see him again until he was, I believe, fifteen. Anything could have happened during that time.”

Revali scoffed. “Like what, exactly? He stopped wetting the bed? Started to fluff his feathers like a fledgling?”

“Hylians grow up faster than even Rito, Revali,” Mipha reprimanded softly. “And Link faster than most. As Daruk said, we simply don’t know.”

Link clicked his tongue quietly, but the others all still jumped when he did, Mipha and Daruk looking guilty and Urbosa and Revali unrepentant. He stepped out of the shrine entrance, considered them for a moment, and asked, Trying to decide how long these will take? And he tapped the shrine key with one finger.

Urbosa nodded. “We’re unsure how many trials you’ll need to complete. Each of us had three, to master our divine beasts and prove our worth. But it looks like you may have as many as two or three dozen.”

Link shrugged, trying to shake off the familiar hot burn of shame. They knew he wouldn’t be of any help. We should move on. Do you think we’ll reach the stable today?

“If we hurry,” Urbosa said firmly, and Link nodded, then started walking. The others fell in around him.

Much of the road was densely forested, Link noticed, looking back and forth to examine his surroundings. There were different kinds of mushrooms at the bases, Stamellas and ironshrooms and Hylian mushrooms, and he immediately itched to gather them; it would be a pity to let them go to waste.

And oh- he recognized that flower. With a small, delighted smile, he broke off the path and headed towards it, reached for the petals, and watched it disappear under his fingers and pop up a few yards away.

“What the…” he heard Revali mutter behind him. He tuned the Rito out and picked a few mushrooms, then went for the next flower and held back a grin as it disappeared and popped up again a few more yards away.

Urbosa was grumbling back at the path, but Mipha was already soothing her. Link had a few minutes.

He chased the flower until it popped up white, and when it disappeared and up popped a Korok, laughing in childish glee. He grinned back, clapping three times in an imitation of the little creature’s laugh, and accepted the offered seed as his due.

When he made his way back down to the road, Urbosa was raising an eyebrow at him. “Satisfied?”

Link smiled guiltily and nodded, holding out the Korok seed. Mipha inhaled sharply.

“That… is quite a magical seed, Link,” she said carefully.

Link cocked his head. Korok seed, he agreed, taking his best guess at the spelling. He could almost taste the magic on it, and it tingled slightly in the palm of his hand. He put it away in his slate, and then looked back up to Urbosa’s faintly startled expression.

“I thought those were mythical,” she said. Link blinked at her.

I’ve gotten seven, he disagreed, confused. Koroks are pretty friendly, and the puzzles they set up are fun. I’m sure I’ll find a use for the seeds. They certainly contained enough magic.

“They do say Koroks are quite fond of jokes and puzzles,” Revali offered, arms crossed and brows arching high on his face.

Daruk laughed, loud and booming enough to make them startle again, and grinned down at them. “Looks like Link’s made a couple friends, that’s all. No big deal.”

The others seemed to take that at face value, and finally moved on.

Link didn’t follow the road as closely as the others did; he kept getting distracted by things he recognized off the path, pausing to gather them up and put them away. He wasn’t sure how he recognized them, but he knew, looking at them – that one was good for energy boosts, that one would give him a temporary strength boost, that one could help him heal…

Urbosa never strayed off the path, gaze steely and impatient, and Link winced a little under her attention. But he didn’t stop gathering – crickets, mushrooms, beetles, each of them would be useful down the road.

Then he saw smoke and froze, stumbling a little on suddenly unsteady legs. Mipha saw his expression and softened.

“Why don’t you go see if there’s someone there?” she suggested gently.

Link didn’t waste another moment weaving rapidly through the trees towards the smoke signal, even as Urbosa swore quietly behind him.

It was only a few moments before he found his way to a small makeshift camp, eyes wide. He broke through the tree line already looking around, and met the man’s eyes just as he relaxed, hand slipping away from the axe he’d stuck into a nearby stump.

Link smiled, feeling his relief like a rush that went straight to his head, and signed, It’s good to see another person.

The man’s face wrinkled in sympathy, but he still sounded flippant as he said, “Don’t speak that, sorry.”

Link barely had time to deflate before Mipha was crouching beside him, saying quietly, “There’s a communication feature on your Sheikah Slate. It should be with the runes.”

Link brightened up again immediately, picking it up and flicking through it while Mipha settled beside him, watching over his shoulder.

The man’s lips pursed. “Sheikah tech?” he asked, audibly apprehensive. Link nodded without looking up, and then found the rune Mipha had mentioned, marked with a large sound icon.

Opening it up revealed an array of categories of pre-set phrases, plus a keyboard option, and Link felt a beaming smile stretch out across his face. He tapped through for a moment, picked one, and held his breath.

“Hello, my name is Link.”

Link went still. The voice was… indistinguishable from the one that had spoken to him on the tower, from the castle. So it must be Zelda.

Had Zelda recorded these lines for him?

Both the man’s eyebrows rose. “Handy. I’m Giro. Haven’t seen you around here before.”

Link flipped through the pages of pre-set dialogue for a moment before promising himself he’d look through them better soon, and looked up with a small smile and a shrug. It was still almost dizzying to come across another person.

Giro snorted softly.

“I’m a merchant,” he said without further preamble, patting his bag proudly. “You a warrior? That’s a fine array of weapons you’ve got on your back.”

Link nodded. It was close enough. Giro hummed.

“Well, feel free to rest here for a bit,” he said, leaning back a little. “I’m here most days, it’s a good touchpoint for people passing through. It’ll be getting dark soon, too, so if you want to spend the night, I won’t stop you.”

Link started a little, glancing up at the sky and then at Mipha, who smiled at him sympathetically.

“You may want to get going,” she said. “But I can talk to Urbosa if you’d rather stay the night here.”

Link looked down at the Sheikah Slate. Zelda had set that rune up for him. It must have taken- hours. Days, weeks.

He shook his head, but was unwilling to leave so soon after he’d found company. He flicked rapidly through the (dozens!) of options available to him until he found, “Do you know any interesting stories about the area?”

Giro let out a startled laugh. “Sure, let me just whip one out for ya. I don’t deal in stories, boy, I deal in goods. You want stories, you go to the stable. All that’s around here are monster camps and half a forest. Stories…” He shook his head.

Link suppressed a put-upon sigh of his own, shoulders deflating in disappointment. Giro sighed.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. Fine, let me tell you a myth my old man liked about how the Dueling Peaks split from one mountain into two…”

Link brightened immediately, and listened attentively as Giro started to recite the tale – mostly without inflection, a little stuttered and disjointed, but fascinating in its own right. Link’s attention seemed to give Giro confidence, and the story had smoothed out by the time he wrapped up.

Mipha hummed along, patient and amused, and when Giro finished, she was smiling alongside Link – mostly at him, but Link dismissed that before he contemplated it too closely.

“Thank you,” he tapped out with delight, earning a snort and a sheepish shrug in return. “Do you need help?”

“Nah,” Giro dismissed, stretching a little. “I’m set for the night, frankly. You need to worry about getting settled yourself, it’s damn late.”

Link glanced up, startled, and then stood and waved at Giro, who shrugged, looking amused but not annoyed. “Yeah, that’s kinda what I thought. Good luck, kid, you’ll need to hurry if you want to be there by nightfall.”

Link nodded, and then took off weaving back through the forest to where the others were still waiting on the back, sitting under a couple of trees now. Sorry, he apologized, a little ashamed already under Urbosa’s annoyed scrutiny.

Urbosa made an irate noise in her chest. “Let’s go,” she said meaningfully, rising and walking away.

Link paid for his distraction soon enough; almost as soon as the sun set, skeletal bokoblins were crawling out of the ground, rattling and hissing, and his sword was already cracking by the time he’d reached the valley after three rounds of this.

“This way,” Revali snapped, jerking his head towards a trail of rocks that would let Link cross the river and avoid a bokoblin camp. “There’s another further down, you shouldn’t have to face much more than this.”

Link nodded his acknowledgement, kicked the last bokoblin skull into the river, and jumped across, leaving Mipha and Daruk to watch his back.

There was another Korok’s flower on the first stone, and he couldn’t resist reaching out to touch it. Fortunately for him, it reappeared on the next stone down, so it would be easy enough to get along the way. Daruk belly-laughed, an infectious thing that made Link grin, and it only took a few minutes to reach the other side and grasp the last flower.

“Ya-ha-ha!” the Korok chortled, and Link clapped in echo, weary but pleased.

A soft snort drew his attention to Urbosa, but when he looked at her, her expression was smooth.

“Not much further,” Urbosa promised, narrow eyes focused down the river. “An hour, maybe an hour and a half’s hike.”

Link nodded, keeping a cautious eye on the riverbanks as he made his brisk way down. There wasn’t much to gather on the bare stone, though he wished he had time to catch some of the fish skipping in the river. But no – if he lingered too long, more stalkoblins were likely to come crawling out of the earth, and he could already feel himself lagging. Even the glowing shrine wasn’t quite enough to distract him.

“You’ve got a few stamina elixirs, don’t you, little brother?” Daruk reminded him when he noticed Link starting to stumble, and Link nodded absently, grabbed one, and swallowed it down in a few gulps.

Tasted awful, but it did make him perk up a little.

How much further? he asked, stifling a yawn. Urbosa glanced back at him and stifled a snort.

“Maybe forty minutes,” she said briskly, nodding up ahead. “The second river crossing should be coming up. Brace yourself, it’ll be a bit of a swim.”

Link nodded absently, and followed Mipha blindly when she turned onto the river, slipping inside and leading the way to a rock set a few yards into the fast moving stream. She glanced back at him, making sure he was following, and then swam to the next as Link grimaced and jumped in.

Link’s aching muscles protested a little, but he wearily ignored them, pushing through the water. The moon was rising high in the sky now; they should hurry.

He was only just pulling himself onto shore when he heard panicked cries in the distance, and before he’d consciously registered them, he was already surging to his feet, stumbling and wavering for balance.

Then he was running, drawing his sword as he zeroed in on the commotion.

Just outside the valley, someone was running at a slightly-faster-than-normal pace, surrounded by an alarmingly large crowd of stalkoblins, and burdened by the biggest backpack Link could imagine. The guy didn’t even have a weapon.

Then, as if on cue, the man tripped. A terrified shriek reached Link’s ears.

Dripping wet and swearing internally, Link rushed in, slamming his sword into the first stalkoblin hard enough that both shattered into pieces. Undeterred, he grabbed its wriggling arm off the ground, kicked its head away, and went after the rest.

The man on the ground scrambled back, gasping quietly, and Link ignored him except to put himself between the man and the remaining stalkoblins. They were fragile, fortunately, much more so than their flesh-and-bone counterparts, and by the time the arm he was holding broke, they were in pieces.

He understood now why his friends had been so surprised to see him shy away from combat; his blood sang, his body moving through the monsters like he was born for battle, so naturally he hardly even needed to think.

“Well done, little brother,” Daruk murmured, sounding unexpectedly proud. Link exhaled, rubbed a tired hand across his face, and turned to offer a hand to the man still stuck on his back like a turtle.

The man accepted, eyes wide. “That was amazing,” he breathed, sounding genuinely star-struck. Link blinked at him, surprised, and the man grinned toothily back. “You saved my life! And I don’t think I’ve even seen you around before.”

Both of them let go. Almost in unison, then, they glanced down to where their hands had clasped, and found their hands marked – Link’s in a transparent pink, and the other man’s in an opaque spring green.

The man beamed. “Oho! But I suppose I’ll be seeing you a lot in the future, eh?”

This man was going to be important to Link. And Link would be important to him too.

Link meant something.

Feeling almost dizzy with delight, Link beamed back, laughing quietly. As if nothing had happened, the man brushed himself off, readjusted his backpack, and kept walking, inviting Link along with a warm grin and a wave. Giving Mipha a pleased look and receiving an amused smile in return, Link followed.

“My name’s Beedle, but you can call me- well, Beedle is just fine,” the man chattered. “You came just in time, thank you, thank you- it’s risky times to be traveling, I know, but it’s very important for merchants to get around! I mostly sell valuable creatures and adventuring supplies. I’m no good with a sword like you, though – what’s your name?”

Beedle sure liked to talk.

Link, Link spelled out tentatively, wondering if maybe-

“Link!” Beedle echoed, to Link’s surprise. A smile broke out over Link’s face, which faded a little as Beedle’s turned apologetic. “I only know enough sign for transactions, I’m afraid. Sorry!”

Link deflated, shrugging his concession. He nodded down the road, and Beedle grinned again.

“We’re almost at the stable!” he agreed cheerfully. “You should be able to change into dry clothes then! Unless you want to stop and do it sooner?”

Link looked down at himself, dripping wet, and his dismay must have shown on his face because Beedle made a loud, sympathetic sound.

“I heard you can get clothes in Kakariko,” he said consolingly. “You should go and pick up an extra set soon.”

Link sighed, reaching up to rub at his face, and nodded. Then he stifled a yawn, exhaustion redoubling as the adrenaline from the fight faded away, and he shot Urbosa a questioning look. She snorted softly.

“Maybe fifteen minutes down the road,” she told him. “You should be able to rest there for the night.” She hesitated for a second, unreadable eyes lingering on him, and then added, “I’m not a fan of stables, myself – I’ll camp.”

The others made various sounds of agreement, and Link nodded absently, yawning again under one hand as they split away, shoving down his anxiety. The starry sky glittered overhead, the moon rising higher by the minute.

Beedle made chattering, one-sided conversation the whole way there while Link watched the road, keeping an eye out for any more monsters. He could still feel his hand tingling, so faintly he wasn’t sure whether or not it was his imagination.

The stable, Link learned with a lightheaded sort of stunned relief, was full of people.

There was a man sitting cross-legged outside, gazing peacefully at the moon. Someone with her feet in the pond, kicking gently and ignoring the glowing shrine entirely. Two kids outside, cooing at the horses, and one woman attending to a cooking pot, and a man waving them over, grinning in welcome-

There were people.

At his expression, Beedle clucked in sympathy again. “It can get pretty isolating out there,” he said agreeably. “I think it’s twenty rupees for a bed and ten for a meal.”

He was glancing down at Link’s ankles, clearly trying to find a polite way to ask if Link had enough. Which Link absolutely did not, so that was fair.

Link clicked his tongue and groaned, frustrated and verging on overwhelmed after the long day, and Beedle hemmed and hawed for a moment, then asked, “Got anything to sell me?”

Link brightened, flicked through his inventory, and tapped on the amber to release one from the Sheikah Slate’s storage. It tumbled out of the back like magic, and Link picked it up and showed it to Beedle with a desperate sort of hope.

Beedle whistled, going from sympathetic to genuinely impressed. “How’s that work?”

Link rubbed at his face, considered, and then tapped away. It took Link a few minutes to find it, something he’d spotted earlier in ‘introductions’. “The Sheikah Slate has a large storage capacity. We’re still figuring out how it works, but if you know how to use it, it can hold almost anything.”

Zelda’s pleasure was audible in the explanation; it made something ache in the back of his mind.

“Amazing!” Beedle laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “How many of those you have to sell? Just the one? I can give you thirty rupees just for that.”

Link shook his head, and fiddled with the slate for a moment until it said out loud, simple and clear in Zelda’s voice, “Amber. Eleven.”

“Wowee!” Beedle exclaimed, with an almost comical look of surprise that made Link laugh. “Don’t think I have three hundred thirty rupees on me, but I can buy five off you.”

Link beamed at him tiredly, signing a quick thank you before tapping to release four more chunks of amber from the slate’s storage. He bent down to scoop them up and then offered them to Beedle, the gems glittering in the palm of his hand.

Beedle took them, tucked them away, and fiddled with his backpack for a minute before making a noise of triumph and giving Link three sparkling purple rupees.

Link signed thank you a couple more times, relieved, until Beedle was laughing, shaking his head.

“It’s the least I can do!” he said cheerfully. “And this is actually part of my job. Can’t sell merchandise if you don’t have any, you know! And it’s dangerous to go off the beaten path these days. Where did you get all this? Death mountain?”

Link shook his head and tapped around for a minute, frowning. He wished Mipha were still here to help him, but eventually he figured out how to queue up a few phrases to run one after another. “Great Plateau. Talus.”

Beedle shrieked. Link winced and rubbed his ear. “You killed a talus?”

Several of the other people at the stable looked over. Still tugging ruefully on the tip of his ear, Link nodded.

“What were you even doing near a talus?”

Link tapped away; it was getting easier to use the communication rune, but he missed sign already. “Hunting. Bokoblins.”

Beedle flailed for a few more moments, and Link watching him, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, starting to tug impatiently on his hair. Finally, then, Beedle just shook his head vigorously. “You, my friend, are crazy. I look forward to seeing you around!”

Link smiled vaguely, then tipped his head towards the stable. Beedle thankfully took the hint, and the stablemaster at the front waved them through, stifling a yawn of his own.

“Heyo, Beedle,” he greeted warmly when they came through. “And you’re a new face! New traveler? You look young enough.”

Link nodded, rubbing at his face, and Beedle jumped to help. “This is Link! Doesn’t talk, but he’s damn handy with a sword. He gave me a hand right about twenty minutes out from here.”

The man’s eyebrows rose. “Well! It’s always good to have a new swordsman running around. The two of you checking in? There’s a little stew left over if you’re hungry.”

Link yawned and nodded, handing over one of the purple rupees Beedle had given him earlier. He got a red one in return and tucked it away, standing back as Beedle paid for his as well.

Thank you, he signed, and was surprised to get a small smile in return.

Twenty minutes later, his bowl was empty and he was fast asleep, still in his wet clothes; even the ache of his overstrained muscles wasn’t enough to keep him awake one minute longer.

Chapter Text

Link was already fidgeting with his sleeves and scratching at his arms by the time he met his friends on the road again. Urbosa took one look at him and sighed.

“You’re waiting a day,” she said flatly.

Link reached up, pulled on his hair, and gave her a pleading look.

He didn’t want to do this either. But his skin was crawling again, it was so far to go before they hit Kakariko, they’d have to hurry instead of doing anything on the way if they didn’t want to get there terribly late and just the idea made Link anxious, how strictly he’d need to budget time, how many supplies he’d need to leave behind-

And Link’s clothes had dried stiff on his body, his skin was crawling and his muscles ached, his ears twitching with overstimulation, and Beedle had set out again before Link had woken up and he was frustrated.

“Just give him this, Urbosa,” Mipha said quietly, and Urbosa huffed and turned away.

Link looked away, too, uncomfortably guilty, and met Daruk’s eyes instead, indicating the shrine across the road, in the middle of the pond. Daruk gave him a small, sympathetic smile and a nod, and Link hurried over, taking the time to work out how to get inside.

There was something, Link thought, that was calming about the simple puzzles in shrines – the hints, the lack of a time limit, the promise of a solution. Even the sound of the socket activating was music to his ears, and he was settled by the time he came out. Something in his mind just slotted into place while he was solving shrines.

He had to climb up the side of the shrine and glide off to get back out, but that was fine. Revali noticed him first, and spoke briefly to Urbosa before walking away as she turned towards Link, eyes flashing.

“At least you’re using your time productively,” she sighed, ignoring the look Mipha gave her. “Are you satisfied?”

Link almost took a step back, uncomfortable, and hesitated for a moment before signing, There was a shrine in the mountain.

“That’s great, Link, let’s go,” Mipha said before Urbosa could, and swept ahead to lead the way to the bridge. Link shot Urbosa a guilty look, and then followed. He heard Daruk mutter something soft but firm to Urbosa, who sounded unrepentant. He tried not to listen.

I apologize for holding us up, he said to Mipha instead, slow and careful. She gave him a small, weary smile.

“It’s fine, Link. You’ve barely been awake for a week; it’s expected that you’re not completely recovered yet. Urbosa knows that in her heart.” Link shrugged, and Mipha hesitated for a moment before continuing. “However, I must ask… is there anything in particular that set you back today? Perhaps we can help you avoid it.”

Link bit the meat of his palm, and then admitted, reluctantly, I should have stayed the night with Giro. Yesterday was too long.

Though if he had done that, he wouldn’t have been able to help Beedle. So it was a good thing in the end. But Link thought that the point stood all the same, even with the shadow of sadness in Mipha’s eyes.

“That’s a good boundary to know, then,” Mipha encouraged. “You need a certain amount of rest until you’re better recovered. We can help keep an eye on that for you.”

Link gave her a smile that didn’t quite hide his shame. He hoped his strength built up quickly. Thank you.

From the Ree Dahee shrine, they went up the little river, following the lead Link had overheard in the stable. Revali rolled his eyes and complained the whole way, but Link liked to think he had learned to tune the man out.

And Link was right, anyway – a bomb placed carefully at the top of the waterfall revealed a cave that had Link grinning in triumph. There were over half a dozen chests with gems inside – not as many as he’d gotten from the talus, it was true, but one of them glowed prettily, and he spent almost twenty minutes just gazing at it, turning it over and over in his hands, eyes wide.

Another one deeper inside found him a beautiful flame blade.

“Do you know how to use that safely?” Urbosa demanded as soon as she saw it, and Link gave her a sheepish shrug. She huffed, gestured for him to stand up, and gave him a rundown of the extra precautions an elemental blade needed.

Did I used to know this? he asked, setting the Sheikah Slate on the sword to put it away.

“…I don’t know,” Urbosa admitted grudgingly. “I only ever saw you use the sword that seals the darkness, and that blade never breaks.”

Link felt an echo of wistfulness before it slipped between his fingers, and he stood up again, shaking it away. I saw a rock at the base of the waterfall. I think it might be a Korok. Meet you down the river?

Urbosa flicked her hand dismissively, but he caught a hint of a fond smile despite everything before she started to slip down the ledge.

Link beamed, and then he jumped down too, aiming for the water below. He rolled the stone off the little island, and grinned at the laughing Korok that popped into existence, clapping in echo. Looking up, he caught sight of the others down the river and waved. Daruk waved back, so large Link could see him chuckling despite the distance.

With a large jump, Link hit the shore, shook off some of the spray that had caught him, and hiked down to where the others were waiting.

“Little brother,” Daruk greeted. A flash of insight told Link that that was the tone Daruk took when he had something more to say, so unexpected that Link almost missed it when Daruk continued. “I was looking at these rocks here – don’t exactly look natural, you see? I bet you could dislodge ‘em with one of those bombs of yours.”

Link considered the alcove Daruk had pointed out, and then nodded decisively. He turned to agree, but came face to face with the green stain on Daruk’s arm. That kept him quiet for long enough that Daruk looked down at him, frowning.

Without thinking, Link reached to touch it. He missed, but Daruk got the idea anyway.

“Yeah, little brother,” he said softly. “You made that mark on me. Wasn’t even a surprise by that point.” He paused, and then smiled gently. “I think you’ll get yours back someday. Just you wait.”

Link blinked up at him, unsure, and without answering, he turned away and dropped into the river, swimming to a little island he could throw the bomb from.

There was a shrine inside. Link was glad he had the others with him; he was sure he’d miss more things if he was on his own.

He grimaced pulling himself back out of the river again, shaking himself off like a dog. It didn’t help, but it made Daruk laugh loudly and Urbosa snort. Link shrugged at them, tugging at his sticky-wet clothes, and signed, I really need a change of clothes.

“You should be able to get some in Kakariko,” Mipha reassured him, though her voice was dripping with amusement. “It may help if you hunted a little on the way in; grocers are almost always happy to buy meat.”

Link nodded, making a mental note, and then paused to consider and turned to hike back up the hill to the small forest there. He’d seen a couple of deer in there earlier.

There turned out to be a bear as well, but that had meat too.

A last dip into the river cleaned the blood off him, and he shook himself again before putting his prizes away and looking up at the others. How far to Kakariko?

“At least five hours even if you hurry,” Revali said dismissively, giving the sky a pointed look. “Though, if you think your fragile constitution can handle another long day…”

Link flinched and Mipha gave Revali a sharp look. “That’s enough, Revali. Recovery is a long process, and Link’s injuries were catastrophic. You saw them.”

Revali clicked his beak and didn’t deny it. A shiver ran up Link’s spine, and he rubbed the heel of his palm over his chest as it threatened to ache.

Surely not all of the scars on his body were from the Calamity.

“Link asked for the day and we agreed,” Daruk said firmly, and then, to Link, “You want to spend the rest helping out at the stable? I’m sure they’d appreciate some of that meat too.”

Link nodded without looking at him. Do I like horses?

“Well, you used to,” Daruk said, thinly flippant. “Don’t know if you do now. Guess we’ll see, eh?”

Unable to help himself, Link glanced at Urbosa, and she sighed.

“You wouldn’t be able to talk to Impa until tomorrow anyway,” she said grudgingly.

The stablemaster was friendly and warm, if a little weary; when Link explained what he wanted, he didn’t even question it before sending Link to help his two kids feed and groom the horses in their stalls, and Link discovered that he did like horses, liked to stroke them and soothe them and feed them from his palm and laugh when they snuffled too close to his face.

The kids adapted to his presence easily; he assumed they were used to people coming and going, if not to those people helping out around the stable. He entertained them a little, offering snacks he’d picked up along the way and letting them play with the bright blue earrings he’d found the first time he reached up to fiddle with his ears.

There were more people at the stable: the stablemaster’s friend Hino, who stayed there and studied the moon and helped feed travelers; a rider who knew his way around; the girl by the pond who’d been surprised to see Link go inside…

Link liked them.

Halfway to Kakariko, Link ran into the biggest Korok he’d ever seen, moping on the side of the road. Link could see their whole body clearly, a few faint marks smeared over it, but the darkest, clearest one a dark green handprint on their belly. Already starting to smile, he broke off to kneel beside them and clicked his tongue until they looked up.

Their mouth fell open. “Can you see me?”

Link shook his head, a small smile playing about his mouth, and the Korok gasped indignantly.

“You liar! If you can’t see me, how could you be talking to me?” The Korok pointed accusingly. “No one has been able to see Hestu for a hundred years! That’s amazing!”

Ah. So this was the famous Hestu.

Do you know sign? he asked on the off-chance, pleasantly surprised when Hestu started to nod vigorously.

“Link, who are you talking to?” Mipha asked quietly, kneeling beside him with a concerned look.

Korok, Link signed one-handed, and then, to Hestu, Do you need help with something?

Hestu perked up, adorably childlike for someone that claimed to be over a hundred. “Yes! Please! Those monsters stole my maracas. I can’t do magic without them! Can you get them for me?”

Hestu pointed, and Link followed their finger to a narrow passage a ways away.

He considered for a moment, then smiled gently, straightened up, and said, Stay right here, I’ll be just a minute.

Hestu beamed at him, and Link turned to head towards the passage.

“Link, what are you doing?” Urbosa sounded stressed enough that Link winced, glancing at her apologetically.

Hestu needed a favor, he explained. It shouldn’t take more than an hour. I’m getting better at fighting monsters.

“As much of a bleeding heart as ever, I see,” Revali muttered, which made Link unaccountably delighted, especially with the way Mipha smiled, eyes crinkling. Daruk chuckled.

“Go ahead and handle it, little brother. Kakariko ain’t going anywhere.”

Urbosa shot Daruk an unimpressed look, but nodded at Link nonetheless. “You have an hour,” she warned, and Link nodded.

The passage was close to ten minutes away, and Link grabbed his claymore when he was almost there, bracing himself for whatever he might find. It turned out to be nothing more than a trio of bokoblins, bickering over their prize with wide, violent gestures, and Link took a deep breath. Swallowed a strength elixir. And then went in, taking the first by surprise.

He hadn’t lied; fighting was getting easier as his body relearned once-familiar patterns, and he sidestepped swipes of the boko clubs and stabbing spears just to find an opening to swing his heavy sword. The elixir he’d taken roared through his blood, making his strikes stronger and deeper, and he pressed his advantage remorselessly, already panting.

A crushing blow to the torso brought one down. A crack over the head took the next. Link ducked under a swing of the club and kicked the last one over the edge with a shout.

Then he grabbed the maracas, blood singing with adrenaline, and marched back to Hestu, all but glowing with sweaty triumph.

Revali started muttering under his breath as soon as he saw Link’s prize. Link ignored him, beelining straight for Hestu and offering them. Hestu beamed, hopping to their feet and bouncing in glee before snatching them from Link.

“My maracas!” they screamed happily, and then started dancing. There was an awkward silence. They stared down, crestfallen. “…They don’t have any seeds.”

Link chuckled softly, grabbed for his Sheikah Slate, and tapped around until eight little seeds tumbled out into his hand. He offered them to Hestu, who gasped, eyes shining.

“Korok seeds! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” They accepted, opening up the maracas and dropping them in. “I never thought I’d be the victim of my friends’ pranks. They can be really mean sometimes, huh?”

Link smiled reassuringly, and Hestu gasped again.

“Oh! I should thank you! Do you maybe have a bag or something? I can make it bigger on the inside! It’s really cool!”

They looked so earnest that Link’s expression softened a little, and he considered for a moment before reaching for his Sheikah Slate and holding it out. Hestu peered at it for a moment, then nodded determinedly.

“I can help with that!” they declared. And then they started dancing.

Quite literally by magic, the Sheikah Slate’s storage space expanded by three slots while Link watched, surprised and pleased. Hestu came to a halt, staring at Link hopefully and panting with exertion, and Link gave them a grin.

Thank you, Link signed, and Hestu beamed.

“Anytime! Please come find me again if you find- oh no!” Hestu flailed. His maracas rattled in his hands. “I have to get home before Grandpa yells at me! But please come find me in Korok Forest, okay?”

Link nodded, laughing quietly. Stay safe.

Hestu nodded determinedly, waved one maraca, and then ran off. Link shook his head slightly, and then headed towards where the others were waiting.

All done, he promised, smiling a little while Urbosa rolled her eyes, not quite hiding a small, exasperated smile as she got up and stretched.

“It’s about time,” she sighed, and then turned and started leading the way again. Mipha laughed quietly.

“You’ve always been like this,” she said unexpectedly, falling in beside Link. He looked at her, surprised, and she clarified, her expression soft and sincere, “Taking the time to help people even with little things. It’s very like you. I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed.”

Link held her gaze for just a moment, and then looked away, cheeks burning with embarrassment. She laughed, and didn’t press the topic.

Link stared at Impa for a long time after she made her ultimatum, stricken with a cold sort of dread.

Her face said she already knew what his answer would be, lined with a grim resolution where she knelt on her cushions. It didn’t make it any easier to tell her. Link swallowed.

Impa’s skin was painted with age, smears of oranges and reds and blues and a strong grass-green that he could see cupping the back of her hand. He wondered if that had been him. He wondered when she had gotten it.

I can’t, he said at last, slow and faltering and helpless. I’m sorry.

It wasn’t entirely true: Link already knew that the answer was yes. He was ready to risk his life for Hyrule. He was ready to risk his life for Zelda. He was almost desperate to prove his worth, to complete the duty set before him.

But if he tried now, fragmented and fragile, plagued by what he was slowly coming to realize was battle sickness, he would fail. He would break.

He could – but not yet.

Something about that, maybe the tremble of his hands, made Impa’s face soften. “I know, Link. You’ve always needed to take your time. When you are ready to return, I will be waiting for you.”

Link took a deep, shivering breath. It’s spring, isn’t it? he asked. She nodded. I’ll return in the fall. I promise.

Impa inclined her head solemnly. “Take this time to build up your strength. You’ll need it.”

Link nodded without looking her in the eye, and then turned around and walked out, pulling his hood up over his ears. He didn’t look at the guards either, ignoring their murmurs of concern, and instead went straight to the goddess statue, knelt, and sent up a prayer for strength, an echo of the one that had been taught to him in the Temple of Time:

O sworn goddess of love and light, I pray to thee, thine loyal knight; that thou might see the proof I’ve brought, that I have learned the lessons that thou taught; and grant the strength to do thine will, so I may live to serve thee still.

The recitation felt ancient, resonating in the back of his mind the way only the most intimately familiar things did – a sword, his slate, the sound of Zelda’s voice. He must have recited this prayer many times.

It will be granted, the goddess murmured to him, and he let out a soft breath as he felt the magic humming in his chest bloom throughout his body. Go, and bring peace to Hyrule.

It wasn’t enough to keep him from feeling wrung-out and drained, but each blessing had made it a little better. He was grateful.

He had a few apples in his Sheikah Slate, and one of the bowls lined up for offerings was empty; after a moment’s consideration, he released an apple neatly into his hand and knelt in front of the empty bowl to place it inside.

“Ya-ha-ha!”

A Korok grinned at him cheekily, held aloft by its umbrella, and Link, once he’d settled down from his scare, let out a startled laugh of his own, clicking his tongue three times as if in reply.

It made him feel a little better.

He made his way around the town next: talked each to Cado and Dorian, met Lasli, bought some food from the grocer’s and the entire stock of arrows and a small hunting knife from the general store. He played hide-and-seek with Cottla for a while, then tag, and she ran off buzzing happily. It was dizzying, how many people and how much noise there was here after the wilderness and even the small stables, but it was reassuring too.

There were some things beyond the ruins.

It was while he was chasing Cottla that Link realized he was avoiding leaving town despite the busy overstimulation of the area. Because when he left town, he would have to meet up with the others, who would ask what had happened. And he would have to tell them.

And they weren’t going to be very happy with him. He wondered if they would leave.

A little girl was crying by the cooking pot outside the grocer’s. Link grabbed his Sheikah Slate and went over to her without hesitation, kneeling beside her and making soft shushing noises until she started to calm down.

She was unusually soulmarked for such a young girl, Link noticed absently – smears on the back of her head and her wrist, her cheek and cupping her neck gently like a hold on a baby. A lot of people loved this child.

Whoever had set up the communication rune – Zelda? – had known Link well enough that there was an entire category for ‘assistance’ right by ‘introductions’. “Do you need help?”

She sniffled, rubbing at her face. “Koko wanted to make dinner for Cottla. Koko promised to make creamy veggie soup. But Koko has no carrots.” She let out a quiet whine, rubbing at her face. “Koko is a bad big sister! Koko will never be like Mother!”

Tap, tap – it was times like this that Link desperately wished it were easier for him to communicate. “Everything is going to be alright. I have something for you.”

Koko looked down, dismissed the Sheikah Slate, and looked up at Link with round, pleading eyes. “Carrots?!”

Link laughed quietly, released a couple of carrots from storage, and offered them to Koko, who squealed and clapped in relief.

“Can you help?” she pleaded, dancing a little in place. “Koko isn’t as good a cook as mother yet, but Cottla needs good food. Can you help Koko cook?”

Link nodded reassuringly, starting to cut up one of the carrots, and Koko beamed.

Despite her words, Koko was surprisingly good at cooking for such a young girl. She directed Link through what to do with only faintly wavering confidence, and Link followed her instructions with all the seriousness he could muster, keeping his mind forcefully off his postponed task.

“Come eat dinner with Koko and Cottla and Father!” Koko fairly demanded, as soon as she deemed the soup done. “You helped make it, so you have to eat some too. It’s a rule!”

Link hesitated, glancing at the village gates. He really should go talk to his friends- it was getting late.

Koko deflated a little, concern blooming over her little face. “What’s wrong?”

It was a complicated enough answer that, even after simplifying it, Link had to write it out entirely. It came out a little distorted, even ancient Sheikah tech not quite capturing the cadence of conversational speech. “My friends are waiting. But I’m worried they’re mad at me.”

Koko blinked at him with all the innocence of a young child, and all the worry of one a little too mature for her age. “Why would they be mad?”

Link considered, mulling it over for a minute, and then slowly tapped out that too. Koko waited patiently, bouncing a little in place, eyes shining with curiosity.

It was kind of nice, that she let him take his time. It gave him space to think about it and pare it down to what mattered.

“They want me to help someone, but I know it will be dangerous and I’m still hurt, so I’m waiting,” he offered at last.

Koko let out a soft coo of sympathy. “That sounds scary,” she said seriously. “Should Koko yell at them to go away?”

Link surprised himself with a laugh, but shook his head all the same. He indicated the finished soup instead, and Koko brightened.

“Yes! Father should be done guarding Impa soon, so he can come home and we can all eat. You need to eat too! You promised!”

Link laughed again and, despite himself, agreed with a nod.

“Oh! And Koko should make dessert! Koko can make hot buttered apples- oh, but Koko has no goat butter-!”

Dorian was surprised enough to see Link in his home that Link tugged at his ear bashfully, but he recovered quickly and thanked Link for looking after his girls, so solemnly that the tips of Link’s ears flushed pink.

Under Koko’s enthusiastic direction, Link helped to set the table, and sat with them as politely as he could, listening to Cottla chatter about her day while they ate.

Dorian had three visible marks precisely: one on each hand, which Link guessed were from Koko and Cottla from how incredibly vivid they were, and the last was one just visible at his neckline, just as stark. Link wondered if it was from his late wife or from one of his parents.

Dorian knew a little sign, and while Koko was entertaining Cottla, he asked Link what he was planning to do next, expression carefully nonjudgmental. Link avoided his eyes anyway and took a minute before answering.

I was going to explore first, he answered, slow enough to be easy to follow. I need to fill out my map and get to know the area. I also need to complete many more shrines.

He wasn’t sure Dorian caught all of that, but he seemed to get the gist, and he nodded. Link presumed that he would be relaying the information straight to Impa, and his stomach turned. Would she disapprove?

Despite Link’s best efforts, Dorian caught his eye and seemed to notice too much.

“How old are you, Link?” he asked, soft and gentle.

Link shrugged. Someone said I’m sixteen.

Dorian’s expression crumpled a little, which Link didn’t quite get, but he recovered himself admirably. “No one blames you for taking a few months, Link. You’ve had so little time to recover, and I’ve heard the stories.”

You will help no one by dying, Dorian added, in careful, deliberate sign, and Link tried not to shiver.

“What’s that?” Koko asked earnestly, and Dorian gave Link a significant look before turning to his daughters to explain sign.

Link met back with the others where he’d left them, just outside the village gates. All of them looked weary and quiet, and he felt awful for leaving them so long.

A little part of his mind tried to wonder why they hadn’t just come in, but he squashed it down.

He came outside and sat down, cross-legged, across the wall. Urbosa perked up immediately, such an expression of relief coming over her face that Link already felt worse.

“Oh, thank the goddesses, you’re done,” she sighed, standing up. “Where were you planning to go first? I’d recommend Vah Ruta, given-”

Link held her gaze, his jaw clenching with uncomfortable resolve.

“Urbosa,” Daruk warned, the start of realization already in his voice. Urbosa stopped, and Link took a breath.

I was thinking I would go west, he answered, motions slow and deliberate. Put Hyrule Castle on my map. Then I’ll probably start with whichever region has the least extreme weather conditions and go from there. Look for shrines.

Urbosa’s frown was audible in her voice. “Shrines are all very well, but don’t you  think you should prioritize your travels?”

Link stayed quiet, and Mipha was the first to understand entirely. The breathless hurt in her voice made him curl in on himself, hands rubbing restlessly over his calves until he reached up to tug his hood over his face.

“You didn’t talk to Impa,” Mipha breathed.

I did, a little, Link signed, forcing himself to look at her, her shocked and betrayed expression. But she wanted me to be certain I was ready. I promised to come back in the fall.

Urbosa’s mouth opened, then closed. And then she turned and walked away, with a deliberately aggressive predator’s sway. Link didn’t watch her go, fingers twitching as he watched Mipha instead.

“…Why?” Mipha asked, and he could almost see her desperation to understand his choice, to not think badly of him. He could also see how hard it was.

I’m a shell of a person, Link explained just as desperately, his gestures becoming a little jerky as his stress wrapped around him like a sandpaper blanket. Patched together with string and prayers. There’s nothing left of me to give. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and then looked at her again, searching her eyes for understanding. I am going to help. But I need to pull myself together first.

Mipha’s eyes were brimming with tears.

Please, Link couldn’t help but tag on, fear nipping at his heels and threatening to eat him alive. His friends were all he had; he didn’t want to lose them. He didn’t want to be alone.

“Well, that’s just fantastic,” Revali bit out, making Link flinch violently. “Six months’ wait before you even attempt to begin, that’s exactly what I wanted, thank you, really. Mother goddess, what a useless chosen hero we were gifted. I’m so glad Hylia is set in her ways.”

Link reached up and pulled his hood down over his ears with a white-knuckled grip, but didn’t argue. Revali had every right to be angry with him, after all. And so did Urbosa. Mipha. Daruk. Impa. Beedle and Koko and Cottla and Dorian and Cado and Nanna-

“If we didn’t need that picky cursed sword of yours, which you don’t even currently have, I remind you-!” Revali continued, voice rising with each word, drilling ferociously into Link. Link chanced a glance up just to see his stormy, irate expression and flinched.

“That’s enough, Revali,” Daruk interrupted at last, loud and stern. “Link’s choice is pretty understandable under the circumstances. We might wish he had made a different one, but are we fault lines, to move under his feet, or are we gonna hold him up like backfill?”

Revali scoffed loudly, and like Urbosa, walked away.

Link deflated, gaze dropping to stare at the triangle soulmark on the back of his hand. It was just a few shades more visible than it used to be, becoming a touch more opaque with each shrine he completed. He thought it might be a shade of yellow or brown.

Eventually, Link turned to the remaining two, and tried not to let his hands shake. You don’t have to stay. I know this isn’t what you wanted either.

Mipha’s expression softened, though she didn’t smile and couldn’t look directly at him.

She took a deep breath.

“You’re afraid,” she said, slow and deliberate, like she was weighing every word to check for truth. “You have almost nothing to your name, not even your memory, and the quest would be challenging even to someone fully on their feet.” She nodded to herself, determined, as if that had settled her. “We’re with you, Link. As long as you need us.”

“Other two’ll come around,” Daruk added, leaning against the mountain wall. “Just give ‘em a bit. Sorry, kid. You’ve been awake for, what, a week?” He smiled, tinged with a faint bitterness. “We’ve been pushing you pretty hard, considering.”

Link shrugged, uncomfortable. I was going to stay here another day and leave the morning after tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t want to come in?

“We’re sure,” Daruk said, when Mipha didn’t answer. “Take your time, little brother. Fall isn’t going anywhere.”

Link gave him a strained nod, stood, and went back into Kakariko. Dorian had pointed out the inn to him earlier; he thought he had enough for a night.

Chapter Text

“The shrine is just up there,” Dorian explained, gesturing up the steep walkway threading up one side of Kakariko. “Stories say that it teaches one to fight like a god, but Impa says you never confirmed one way or another. Still, it should be worth a visit.”

Link gave him a small nod. Thank you, he signed.

Dorian smiled briefly back, started to turn away, and then paused. “Oh- they say that Kakariko’s guardian spirit is up there somewhere, too. I’ve never looked for her myself – the forest is deep – but it may be worth a visit.”

Link nodded thoughtfully, making a note of that as well, and waved as Dorian left to relieve Cado.

Link would have to hurry if he wanted to be back in the village by the time the rain started coming down, but then again, it may not make much difference in the end; just the idea of being cooped up somewhere made Link restless and unhappy. Still, the heavy air made his skin tingle unpleasantly, something in his knees sparking with each heartbeat.

The shrine was easy to find, overlooking Kakariko Village from just barely over the hill. It had another one of those awful crawling machines, but slow and weak enough that Link could breathe a little easier just for the fact that this one, at least, was not intended to be an actual threat.

It was training. Just training.

The hum of magic in his chest was a reassurance by now, like a promise of recovery, and without thinking about it, he dipped his head in respect as Ta’loh Naeg dissolved into nothingness.

After the shrine, Link went deeper into the forest, rubbing his arms anxiously. The advice of a protective spirit sounded… sounded really good by now.

It was the most alone he’d been in a while, wandering around that forest. The last time, he thought – the only other time, really – had been that day wandering around the Great Plateau a week ago. It was kind of a relief, the quiet and the stillness.

Squirrels rustled around the leaves above him, and he took the time to pick some plants as he passed – blue nightshade, Stamella mushrooms, Hyrule herbs. The first silent princess he found made him pause, something niggling in the back of his mind, but it didn’t come to anything and he just put it away with the rest.

He found the fairy first: a glowing thing with fluttering wings, drifting idly in the wind and drawing his attention with a sharp flick of his head. Curious, he snuck up to it with soft, slow footsteps, eyes on its pretty paneled wings.

It turned around, and without thinking, he lifted one hand, holding it out. The fairy hovered for a moment, and then, so delicately he didn’t even feel it, landed on his fingers and stared at him with eyes that glimmered in the shade. He blinked at it, and it looked from him, to the equipment on his back, then back to him. Its wings fluttered.

Without a word exchanged between them, the fairy blew Link a kiss, and then disappeared into his Sheikah Slate. He blinked, and then smiled.

Then he took one step, broke into the clearing he’d been unknowingly just outside, and stopped again, transfixed by the sight before him.

Tucked away into the mountain face, bright with magical fungi and glittering with fairy residue, was a large, green bulb, spiked and swollen. It towered over him, brimming with latent power enough to taste. He was almost afraid to go near it. He was almost afraid to breathe.

A fairy flitted by, beckoning him closer. Then another. Eyes on the massive flower bulb in the fountain, Link edged forward, feet flattening the grass along the forest floor.

“Boy…”

The voice made him startle, watching the slightest crack appear in the flower bud.

“Boy… come closer… will you listen to my story?”

Link took a few more steps, knelt onto the fungus platform, and nodded. From here, he could just see inside the crack, a faint shimmer and a shining eye peeking through. Curiosity bubbled up in him, along with a faint niggling worry, like something wasn’t right.

The thing in the flower bud sighed, heavy with relief.

“I am the Great Fairy, Cotera,” she murmured. Her voice was thin and worn, a shattering form of exhaustion weighing down her words. “Once my sisters and I were powerful protective spirits, but as darkness fell and the roads grew treacherous, fewer and fewer travelers arrived to offer us rupees, and now we are lost and forgotten. I need rupees to become whole again. I promise I would not forget your kindness.”

Without hesitation, Link reached down to where he’d kept some rupees in his pockets, held one up, and cocked his head.

“To become whole I need one hundred rupees,” the fairy rasped. “That would be enough for me to breathe again.”

Link had that. It took a purple, two reds, and a yellow rupee, but eventually he dug them all up and held them out, and with an unmistakable, thready gasp of relief, an enormous hand emerged from the flower and snatched them from him.

The flower bud throbbed.

“Oh…” the fairy moaned. “Oh yes, the power… it’s been so long… my power is overflowing!”

The flower bud burst open, and Link flinched away, stumbling to his feet and only just stopping himself from going for his sword. Water showered down around them, and a beautiful woman, painted with magic and bright colorful clothes, stretched luxuriously.

“It’s so wonderful to breathe again,” Cotera sighed, arching like a cat in her fountain. Half her body was still out of sight, but she looked right, sitting idly amid the massive flower. After a moment, she settled again, opened her eyes, and smiled warmly at Link. “I knew you would come through, Link. You always do... and you bring the best offerings.”

Link blinked at her comically, pointing at himself after a moment as if she could possibly be talking about anyone else. She laughed.

“Of course I remember you,” she cooed with a wink. “It takes much more than a hundred years for someone like me to forget a face like yours. You need some help enchanting your armor again, boy? I’m not much all by myself, but I can do a little.”

Link looked up at her, looked down, and tugged at the clothes he was wearing, and Cotera laughed again.

“You don’t have to undress unless you want to, honey. Show me what we’re working with and I’ll see what I can do.” Link did, and Cotera clucked sympathetically. “Starting from scratch, are we? You feel even more drained than I do right now. Don’t know what happened to set you back so bad, but it’s alright. Looks like you’ve got just about everything you need for a good start. One good turn deserves another, hm?”

With a few blown kisses and a rush of magic that made Link tingle all the way down to his toes, Cotera took some of his supplies and blew the latent magic into his clothing the way only a Great Fairy could. Link spun around on his toes, and then turned to look up at her, wide-eyed.

Cotera smiled at him, eyes glittering with amusement. “Aren’t you a sweet child? Where are you going next, boy?” Link pointed. Cotera glanced that way wistfully, and then her smile faded and she looked back at Link. Link flinched, but all Cotera said was, “Sweetheart, can you do me a favor while you’re running around?” Link cocked his head, wary and hesitant. “If you’d find my sisters and free them too, I’d be just delighted. Promise it’ll be worth your while. Like I said, I’m not much on my own.”

Link nodded without hesitation, taking out his notes and jotting it down. Where are they? he signed without thinking, and only looked up when Cotera failed to answer, still just gazing at him solemnly. He hesitated, then flipped the Sheikah Slate around to the runes, and then to ‘questions’, and asked, “Where?”

Cotera laughed, soft and wry. “Oh, that little thing,” she murmured, and then, “Well, one ought to be in the desert. One in the mountains – the ones in the west. And the last should be on the eastern coast. That help you out, sweetheart?”

Link nodded instantly, writing that into his notes, and then, for lack of a better way to communicate, blew her a kiss the same way the fairy had him. She laughed, soft and musical, and waved.

“Blessings on your journey, child,” she crooned.

Then, without another word, she dove back down beneath the water, disappearing into the abyssal depths. Link watched for a moment, and then smiled faintly, a startling warm and delighted feeling blooming in his chest.

The clouds broke just as Link started to make his slow way back to the village, and he grimaced, shaking his head as the hood failed to keep the rain off his face. He reached up to tug at it, trying to avert some of the unpleasant stickiness, and then let go resignedly and continued on. The scars across his body throbbed faintly.

He was almost back to the village when he heard a faint keening and paused. He listened for a moment, head cocked, and guessed that it was a child’s voice.

Concerned, he headed towards it, peeked over the cliff edge, and found someone standing in front of what looked like a graveyard. It was too big to be Cottla; Link thought that it was probably Koko.

Why was she crying all alone?

It took Link a few minutes to make his way down into the village, and with some uncertainty, he wove his way between the buildings, looking for Impa’s home; Dorian was on shift right now, he thought, and he would probably like to know about Koko. Link could take his watch for a bit if he needed a minute.

When Link waved to Dorian and pointed at the graveyard, though, Dorian just sighed heavily.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, in a voice that very clearly said it wasn’t. “She always does this when it rains. She doesn’t want anyone to know she misses her mother.” He hesitated, and then asked, soft and ashamed, “Can you go check on her? Just for a moment, please. If it’s not a bother.”

Link nodded without hesitation, and then turned to go towards the graveyard, glad it was at least a straight line. Koko must be trying to keep quiet; he couldn’t hear her until he was almost at the graveyard.

She stopped keening and sniffled when she saw him, still rubbing her eyes, and he smiled at her gently and sat down beside her. She sniffled again, and then sat down, looking at him with wary confusion. Wondering why he was intruding on her grief, probably.

There wasn’t much Link could do to make it better, but he untied his hood and offered it to her, and she shook her head, wiping at her eyes with one hand.

“No thank you,” she mumbled. “Koko likes the rain. If she cries in the rain, Mother won’t see, you know?” She nodded at the graveyard, and Link’s heart broke quietly. He tied his hood back on, but left it down and nodded at the graveyard too. Koko shuffled closer. “Father doesn’t like to talk about what happened to Mother, ‘cause Cottla’s so little. But Koko knows.” Quietly, like a secret, she whispered, “Koko misses Mother a lot. Koko isn’t as good at taking care of Cottla as Mother was.”

Koko’s hair was plastered messily to her face, her eyes red with tears. Link reached up and brushed her hair back without thinking, and this time he could watch as his fingers left a streak of green at her hairline. He looked down at his hand, surprised, and found his fingertips colored a light lavender that matched the soul paint on Dorian’s right hand.

Puzzled, Koko looked down too – and then, to his surprise, she laughed, reaching up to rub at her face again.

“Father says that Mother painted everyone she touched too,” Koko said softly. “He says Koko will be just like her someday, but Koko isn’t sure that’s true. Mother had so many colors.”

Link smiled at her, gently took one of her hands, and turned it palm up. It was splattered and streaked, as he suspected; soulmarks were always concentrated most heavily on the hands.

“But Mother had more,” Koko said plaintively.

Link smiled crookedly, and for the first time, held out his own hands – four marks, two barely visible, to nearly a dozen on Koko’s much littler ones.

Koko’s mouth formed an ‘o’. He wondered if she’d ever really looked at the hands of other people before.

Her father, for instance, only had the marks of his two daughters there.

She looked at her hands with newly wide eyes, and then beamed at him. He laughed a little, and then more when she jumped, her eyes going wide.

“Koko has to go make Cottla dinner!” she cried, and then she was running. He followed at a more sedate pace, shaking his head.

Koko was a good kid.

Link left Kakariko the next morning, feeling… not ready, but at least impatient to continue moving and a little relieved to be leaving the busy village.

Of course, his mood came crashing back down when he met with the others partway down the road and realized that Mipha still wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Revali and Urbosa were keeping a sizable distance away. His shoulders fell.

He looked up at Daruk, who gave him a small, reassuring smile that didn’t actually help much.

“Ready to go?” Daruk asked, and Link held his gaze for a long moment before nodding and starting to walk.

The silence was stifling, not at all like the gentle nature sounds from when Link had been exploring the forest near Kakariko. Link did his best to ignore it, crouching by the foot of the cliff every few feet to gather the mushrooms and plants he recognized there. He caught lizards when they scurried by, and even a cricket or two, and listened to the faint whistle of the wind.

Urbosa’s gaze burned into his back, and his fingers twitched for his sword just from the sheer displeasure he could sense.

He got up and kept walking, his footsteps haunted by the shadows of his friends.

“So!” Daruk asked loudly, when the silence apparently got to be too much for him. “Why’re you so eager to see the castle? Getting a feel for the monster? I wouldn’t blame ya.”

Link’s steps faltered a little at the thought of the beast that engulfed Hyrule Castle, and he shook his head, hesitated, and then shrugged. I think I’m worried about Zelda, he explained. I know it won’t help, but I want to see the castle.

Daruk was quiet for a bit.

“You really don’t remember anything, do you, little brother?” Link shot him a wary look, to which Daruk smiled wryly. “Princess always meant an awful lot to you, that’s all. Even before she liked you. Even before you liked her.”

Link thought he understood that, on an intellectual level; all the signs were there. The feeling he got when he heard her voice. Her careful explanations as he was waking. All of the hundreds of little phrases she must have recorded one by one on his Sheikah Slate.

And then there was the faint, transparent soulmark on his hand, still there even after all the others were wiped away.

He held out his hand, the one tinted faintly yellow, and Daruk nodded.

“I know the story behind that one, if you want to hear it,” Daruk said. Link nodded without hesitation, wide eyes on Daruk. “Was after you’d been guarding the princess for a good while, but before we met. The two of you ran into a gang of mounted bokoblin out in a field somewhere, while the princess was workin’ on the field research she liked so much.”

Link tried to picture it: the bokoblin on horses, the two of them on foot, a girl with maybe silver hair like the Sheikah and a fancy dress-

“Princess Zelda didn’t have a lot of battle experience, obviously, though she’d seen the aftermath plenty,” Daruk continued, oblivious, while Link listened with rapt attention. “Had a hard time keeping out of the way while you handled them. At some point you were riding side by side-” Link’s image rearranged, and he got briefly distracted wondering what kind of horses they’d both had before he refocused. “And she came close enough to getting shot so many times that you just pulled her straight off her horse and onto yours. King was pissed when he saw the handprint on her arm, apparently.”

Link’s mouth opened slightly, and he looked down at his yellowed palm with new fascination. He clenched it into a fist, trying to imagine it, and then looked back up at Daruk and smiled.

“Yes, yes, you used to be a moderately competent bodyguard,” Revali sniped, unusually harsh and sudden enough to make Link jump. “A really excellent job you’re doing of that right now, taking three days’ journey just to stare at her pain from a distance.”

Link’s smile dropped and he looked back to the front, pulling his hand against his chest. He didn’t answer. Revali snorted in vindication, clicking his beak.

“That’s unfair, Revali,” Mipha said sharply. “There’s precious little Link could do now, when he’s barely woken. He needs to regain his strength. He needs to recover.”

“He’s been ‘barely woken’ for over a week,” Revali snapped back. “When are you going to stop using that as an excuse?”

“Recovery takes time,” Mipha said staunchly, refusing to give ground. “It takes weeks and months.”

“He’s taken a hundred years!”

“And he could have taken an eternity with the injuries he had!”

Link’s chest throbbed. Revali and Mipha had stopped walking; Urbosa had not. Link looked up at Daruk, and pointed at himself and then down to the river. Daruk gave him an understanding look, and waved him on.

Unnoticed by the two furious companions, Link slid down the riverbank and grabbed his bow. He crouched on the edge, eyes scanning the water with exaggerated concentration.

“Well, boo hoo! He could have died! The king should have thought of that when he assigned him as a royal guard!”

“Revali, you-!”

Mipha was actually audibly speechless with outrage. Hands deliberately, forcefully steady, Link nocked an arrow and aimed into the water, and fired. A fish floated to the top, dead. He hopped onto a nearby rock and grabbed it without thinking, and then dropped down to lean back on his hands and pant. His head spun.

Mipha took a deep breath. Revali had gone suspiciously silent.

“You’re callous, but you’re not typically cruel,” Mipha said at last, with the forced understanding that she had brought to heel for Link not long before. “Perhaps you would like to say that again in a less horrible way.”

It was a few minutes before Revali spoke, stiff and harsh.

“He is sixteen, Mipha. This never should have been his job in the first place. Every step of this situation has been entirely predictable, and yes, I resent it.”

There was a beat of silence. On his rock, still panting, Link curled in on himself and rubbed the heels of his palms over his face harshly, then moved one hand to his mouth, teeth sinking into his knuckles. Blank and dazed, he watched the water ripple, fish flickering beneath the surface. Maybe he should catch another. Maybe. When he caught his breath.

“Goddess above, Revali,” Mipha sighed at last, with a mixture of frustration and relief. “You’re so awful at showing you care.”

Daruk cleared his throat meaningfully. A heartbeat passed.

Revali swore loudly.

“Urbosa, please stop pretending you haven’t noticed we’ve stopped,” Mipha called out patiently, and then suddenly she was crouching by Link, expression soft again in away that seemed unreal. “Revali didn’t mean that anything like the way it sounded. He was very upset when he saw how injured you were, as were we all.”

It wasn’t that Link couldn’t hear her, but her voice seemed to come from so far away that it didn’t matter. He didn’t respond, eyes fixed on the water. His knuckles rubbed absently against his chest, trying to soothe a half-imaginary ache. His heart fluttered like a frightened bird. He shook his head.

“Please take your hand out of your mouth, Link.”

Link obeyed, dropping it to spread flat on his chest. Mipha smiled at him gently.

“Now breathe in, one, two, three… And out, one, two, three…”

Link registered dimly that he was still panting, harsh and shallow, and struggled to follow her instructions, eyes squeezing shut. Panic fluttered distantly in the back of his mind, but he breathed with Mipha’s count and felt his heart rate start to slow even as he shivered.

“That’s great, Link,” Mipha soothed. “That’s perfect. Can you look at me?”

A few more breaths, and Link paused, then looked at Mipha. He felt scraped raw and vulnerable, and he disliked it. He didn’t want to be looked at like this. He wondered vaguely if he could climb a tree and hide in it for a while.

Sorry, he signed, without looking at anyone else. I can do better.

“You’ve never done anything less than the best you can,” Mipha said quietly. “I would not assume that you were going to change that now.”

It was true. But that hardly mattered if Link’s best just wasn’t good enough.

Chapter Text

The situation didn’t improve any as Link made his slow way closer to the castle. From Kakariko he settled at Dueling Peaks stable; from the stable he passed through Dueling Peaks again and climbed the tower he’d passed just on the other side. From that high vantage point, he marked out every other tower he could see, then headed to the river, solving every little puzzle he noticed to collect Korok seeds, and then went up the river to another stable, Riverside.

It was quiet, rhythmic work, easily done in silence when no one was willing to talk. Once or twice, the only sounds he made all day were when he clapped back to the Koroks he found, or soft hisses when he got stung by a bee gathering honey.

Urbosa still hadn’t said a word to him since Kakariko. Mipha, while kind, was still visibly preoccupied, and wandered off for short periods to be on her own. Revali made biting remarks at every opportunity, starting arguments with Mipha about half the time.

Daruk, at least, seemed to understand Link’s decision, and that was something of a relief. He pointed out a few shrines Link missed, and depending on how close they were, he marked them or made his way over.

“Don’t worry, kid,” he said once, too low for anyone else to make out. “They’ll come around. It ain’t easy to realize after a hundred years that things aren’t gonna pan out like you thought they would.”

Link hesitated, and then checked quickly, You don’t think they’ll leave?

Daruk sighed, heavy and raspy, and said, “No. Not a one of them is like that. Promise. And what are we gonna do elsewhere anyway?”

Link’s fingers spasmed against his chest, and he looked away quickly and didn’t answer, checking how close they’d gotten to the tower looming closer and closer as they walked. Daruk let him be, using his larger height to check out over the hills and squint past trees, and didn’t break the silence for another hour.

“You should be careful,” Daruk warned at last, when they started to get closer to the tower nearest Hyrule Castle. “Supposed to be a lot of guardians in this area. Proper live ones too.”

Link faltered visibly, head whipping up to look around like one might be heading right for him. He bit his lip, then straightened his back, took a breath, and nodded, but didn’t take his wide eyes off their surroundings.

He spoke to Daruk without looking. The rest of you should go on, he signed. I need to climb the tower, but there’s no reason for all of us to go up there.

Daruk’s brow furrowed. “You sure? Might be useful to have someone to watch your back. And that’s if you really have to go at all, right now.”

I have to, Link said firmly. Daruk just nodded, not looking surprised.

Mipha stepped right up to him, met his eyes, and said clearly, “There’s a stable to the southwest of the tower. We’ll be waiting there for you. Come back safely.”

I will, Link promised, glancing in the direction of the high tower in the middle distance. There were a few patches of forest in between him and it; he could change into his Sheikah armor and make his way there cautiously. I’ll try to be quick.

“Be safe,” Mipha reasserted sternly, and just now there was no trace of her hurt in her expression. This time, Link just nodded, and the group parted ways.

Link changed in the next forest, pulling on Sheikah clothes that didn’t rustle, and then kept going. His head turned back and forth, scanning the field warily, but only a few moblins came within his range and he ignored them steadfastly.

If it weren’t for the gnawing fear, the silence as he trod forward would have almost been comfortable.

He had almost reached the tower when he saw the first intact guardian – a massive, scurrying thing that towered over Link’s head, blaring the most awful klaxon as its single eye scanned its surroundings. All the breath went out of Link’s chest, and he pressed himself behind the nearest crumbled wall, his muscles locking him in place.

He could hear its feet thudding against the hard earth, and its beeps grew deafeningly loud as it approached. A shadow fell over Link, and he didn’t dare breathe. His heart beat like an aching apple in his throat.

Link’s chest throbbed, and he wasn’t sure if it was from something half-remembered or from the frantic race of his terrified heart. He could hear his blood roaring in his ears, and it almost covered up the patient beep of the alert guardian, growing slowly softer as it finally scurried away.

He took in a deep, dragging breath, muffled by the Sheikah mask, and it left in something dangerously close to a whine. Then he got up, looked around, and bolted closer to the tower.

It took everything Link had not to just go for the tower at a dead run; instead he took it in stretches, making use of every scrap of ruins he could hide behind, his attention switching between each guardian in his range. One that was pacing, one half-buried, one on the other side of the tower and another in the far distance-

There was a large stretch of bare earth between the last crumbled wall and the tower, and Link swallowed a speed-boost elixir and then threw himself at it blindly.

He still barely made it before the guardian fired, and the backsplash of the energy beam was so close that Link could feel the heat on his face. Huddled against the wall of the platform, making himself as small as possible, he couldn’t tear his eyes off the scorch mark just a few feet away from his face.

For a second – for just a moment – he wanted nothing more than to warp away and forget the tower entirely. He wanted to take a different path, retrace his steps, and meet his friends at the stable without taking another step near the malice-infested machines. He didn’t want to be here anymore.

One thought held him back, kept him clench-jawed and determined as he measured the distance to the next platform.

This was as close as Link was likely to get to Zelda for at least a year.

It was this that propelled him up, scrambling from platform to platform, fingers bleeding in minutes from how frantically he was grasping at the grating. Bright blue eyes locked on him every time he left the safety of a low wall, the whine of a charging beam reaching him even from halfway up the tower. The wind chilled the silent tears that had fallen onto his face, terror and adrenaline ripping through him.

After a blind eternity, Link finally jerked himself up over the top, onto the highest platform, and ignored the central slate dock to cover his face and scream, his fingers digging into his scalp, leaving streaks of blood where the metal had torn into his fingers.

Goddess, he hated guardians.

Fuck, he hated guardians.

He ran his fingers through his hair, over and over, trying to soothe himself and his racing heart. He pushed his knees under him, shoved his hands against his thighs, rocked faintly in place, yanked his hood further down over his face and tried to breathe. His stomach roiled, threatening to rebel.

It was quiet up on top of the tower, nothing but the whistle of the wind, and it was that that finally calmed him, shivering silently. And then he looked up.

Link couldn’t see the castle much more clearly from here than he had before, he realized dimly – but he could, a little. He could make out the pillars of crystal malice that surrounded the castle, the writhing fog, the shape of the towers and surrounding ramparts.

There was a princess in there, somewhere. There was Zelda, holding out for as long as she could, waiting for him to come and strike the final blow. With a sword he didn’t have, and a blessing he couldn’t remember.

One of his hands drifted to the other, covering the faint triforce on the back of his hand. Tears threatened to freeze to his face, and for a long time, he just watched the castle, muscles trembling beyond his control.

He turned his hand over, exposing the faint yellow tint on his palm, and kept staring.

The sun was starting to dip low in the sky when someone swooping in made him jump, and he turned his head sharply, hand going for his weapon, when he saw who it was. Link tried to relax, drawing his hand back to his chest, and just tilted his head instead, watching Revali as he smoothed his feathers with an irate ruffle and then turned his attention on Link.

“Really,” he huffed, strutting across the platform to drop down beside Link with all the attitude he could seem to muster. “All this time, and all you’ve managed to do was climb the tower and stare at the castle?”

Link blinked at him, wondering at the sudden thinness of his veneer of hostility, and Revali gave a put-upon sigh, turning away with a dismissive flick of his feathers.

“You didn’t spend nearly this long at Dueling Peaks, I swear to the goddesses – stand up and download the map so we can go. We should be able to fly a decent portion of the way to the stable, certainly enough that the guardians will be out of reach. You can stop looking so pathetic.”

It took Link a moment to process that, but as soon as he did, the rush of relief was intense enough to make him dizzy. He stood up, forcing his legs not to give out from under him, and crossed over to the pedestal to place the Sheikah Slate inside and let it load.

He took a deep breath, trying to force his muscles to stop trembling, and, after a long moment, turned to face Revali. Revali was watching him with an unreadable expression.

I’m sorry I’m slow, he said at last. I know you expected better.

Revali snorted. “Perhaps people should reconsider what they’re expecting of one blessed teenager,” he said tartly, while the tower lit up blue around them.

While Link was still processing that, Revali turned away and nodded down at somewhere along the road.

“We’re heading for Outskirt stable,” he said disinterestedly. “It should be easy enough to find down the road, so I’m not going to babysit you the entire way there. I’ll be moving along to let the others know you haven’t gotten yourself stupidly killed as soon as you land.”

Link nodded, eyes on the same stretch of road, and reached onto his back to grab the paraglider. It would sting his hurt fingers, with his whole weight on them, but not enough to really bother him.

He looked at Revali. Revali didn’t spare him more than a glance in return, and jumped off the tower in an elegant swoop. Link hesitated for just a moment, and then followed.

“Drop!” Revali snapped, raising his voice to be heard above the roaring wind, and then banked hard. Link obeyed, tilting the paraglider just right so he dropped several yards before catching the wind again, and shuddered violently as another guardian beam soared over his head.

Less than ten minutes later, Revali hit the ground behind a rock, and Link tumbled after him, panting and exhausted and shaking, so frightened that he was nauseous with it.

For a long moment, they were both silent, and even when Link pushed himself upright, Revali kept staring at him, beak clicking in faint disapproval.

“It should be smooth from here on out,” Revali said eventually. “I assume you can pick yourself up and get there without any issue, so I’ll go inform the others that you haven’t died yet.”

Link nodded, even though Revali was no longer looking at him, and the man took off with a flurry of wind. Link’s hands were still shaking.

A soothing sort of quiet settled over the area in Revali’s wake, though, and Link took a breath, and then another, and another. Rubbed his forearms. Looked up and down the path, and then got up. He stretched tentatively, feeling his scarred skin pull taut, and realized he still didn’t want to move.

He could wait, couldn’t he? Just for a bit.

Decisively, Link drew his sword and started doing drills, rotating through the three he remembered well until a fourth slowly bloomed into being, memory or intuition or both. Slow, familiar, rhythmic…

He wished he didn’t have to go anywhere.

Night started to fall before he started moving, and a swarm of keese swirled overhead, screeching and flapping loudly. Link kept his sword out as he walked, knuckles white on the grip.

His ears twitched at the cacophony of noise yanking at his nerves. The breeze stung his skin like bees dragging themselves over his cheeks. He clenched his jaw, tension creeping up his spine and threatening to overwhelm him. He kept thinking that he could hear the thud of a guardian’s creeping footsteps behind him.

It wasn’t the monster camp that made him break, the stress of sneaking by or the whirling keese giving him away or even the prospect of being seen and having to tackle it or flee.

It was the horn – the bellow of a monster’s klaxon as one of the lookouts became too suspicious, ringing in his ears and setting his heart racing irrationally again.

Link bolted, and when he came back to awareness minutes later, he was crouched and panting in a filled-in old well, rubbing his ear against the stonework through the hood. His teeth ground together, and he was shivering again. He scratched at his forearms as his skin crawled, and he shook his head at nothing.

He wondered if his friends would mind if he was a day late. If he just- if he waited.

The moon was in the sky when he heard footsteps, the sound making his ears twitch and his teeth grit as the soothing silence broke. A grunt of protest escaped his mouth.

The footsteps paused. Then, slow and steady, they started to head towards him. Link groped for his sword, and glared out of the well, willing his sore muscles to hold up just a little while longer.

Beedle’s head poked over the edge, peering in with concern. Link relaxed.

“What are you doing in there?” Beedle asked. Loudly.

Link flinched despite his best efforts, turning his head to grind his ear against the stone again, as if that would wipe away the vibrations he could feel in his head like they were stuck there. Beedle was quiet for a minute, and Link gulped down breath until it was steady again.

“Going to Outskirt?” Beedle asked at last, much softer. Link swallowed a couple of times, and then nodded. “Me too. Let’s walk together.”

Link blinked tiredly up at him, then thought about the fact that it was night, and Beedle didn’t carry a sword. And his friends would be worried, and he’d done enough to them this week.

Link pulled himself out of the well, stumbled, and caught himself. He kept his sword out in his hand, though his shield stayed on his back, and glanced up and down the path warily before nodding at Beedle.

Beedle grinned at him. “Just about two hours away,” he assured Link earnestly, starting to walk. Link walked beside him, keeping his attention on their surroundings, and didn’t answer. “You know, I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon-”

Beedle kept talking in a soft, enthusiastic voice, easy enough to let fade into the background. Link nodded along vaguely, not really listening, eyes roving over the hillsides and ruins they passed by.

Twice, skeletal moblins came crawling out of the ground, but they were easy enough to dispatch; one swing of Link’s sword shattered their bones, and their skulls crumbled under his feet. Beedle couldn’t run well, with that backpack of his, but that was fine.

Link was tired, but not too tired to keep an eye on the road and a hand on his sword.

They arrived at the stable a few hours later, late into the night, and to Link’s surprise, his knees locked a few yards away.

The stable was bright. There were over half a dozen people there, and communicating was hard and he didn’t want to try right now. He could hear people talking. He wanted to throw up.

Beedle looked at him and clucked sympathetically at whatever expression Link was wearing. “I can talk to them if that’s easier.”

It took Link a moment to process Beedle’s words, but as soon as he had, he was nodding. A moment’s thought, and he dug through his pockets for rupees and then gave them to Beedle.

Thank you, Link signed with relief, and then darted off along the back before Beedle even had a chance to reply.

The tree he climbed into wasn’t as good as the filled-in well, but it was better than the stable; he would brave that later. For now, he sheathed his sword, clung to a branch, and struggled to calm himself.

Mipha found him there first.

“Oh, Link. Was it worth it?” she asked, voice soothing and low as she looked up at him through the branches.

Link’s breath was heavy and labored, lightheaded with lingering terror and draining adrenaline, but after a second, he nodded. He’d gotten what he’d wanted, which was, he admitted to himself, to do the best he felt he was capable of at the moment. He’d done it.

Mipha smiled at him gently, sat at the foot of the tree, and waited with him.

After a few minutes, Beedle came out of the stable again, leaned against the tree, and grinned up at Link. “All done,” he said cheerfully. “They’ll let you in when you’re ready. You comfortable up there?”

Link managed a small smile in return and nodded. Thank you, he repeated.

Then he pressed his cheek to the bark through the cloth hood, closed his eyes, and tried to wait out the tremble of his body.

Link spent a couple of days at Outskirt stable, and no one there seemed to mind; he went hunting for the meat that Trott had so badly wanted, cooked a few meals with some of the honey that wasn’t local to the area, and helped to groom the horses. He noted down the rumors of a royal horse descendant lurking in the hills nearby, scribbling out everything the old man mentioned, much to his very visible pleasure.

Zelda would need a horse when she was free, and better the offspring of her old one than a random horse off the field. He wondered if his own horse had descendants running around.

There was a coliseum nearby as well – or rather, the old ruins of one, surprisingly intact save for the malice caked up one side. Link didn’t look any closer than the roiling, poisonous sludge before he felt sick enough not to want to go near, and ended up only just venturing close enough to coax away a wayward treasure hunter. Nowhere with that much malice was safe.

Through all of this, the others stayed mostly on the periphery. Daruk accompanied Link about half the time, making casual, light conversation, and Mipha came sometimes as well. Urbosa was still fuming, but she hadn’t left and that made Link hopeful. And Revali had- well, Revali had more or less gone back to normal.

I saw a shrine while I was heading here from Central Tower, he said after a few days, a spoon sticking out of his mouth as he signed. He took it out at Mipha’s pained expression and continued, I was going to go back for it. I don’t think it’s close enough to run into anything.

“I’d like to come with you,” Mipha said, in such a tone that Link guessed she wasn’t actually going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

He glanced at Daruk, but Daruk just waved his hand. “Go for it, little brother. I’ll have a look around here, see if I can scout out any more.”

Link gave him a small, grateful smile, and that was that.

Link and Mipha set out that morning, heading back up the trail into Central Hyrule again. Mipha seemed to notice Link’s tension despite his best efforts, and kept the pace casual, solemn gaze sweeping over the ruins as they passed.

Did you know that I’ve actually heard your voice? Mipha signed after a while, surprising Link. She smiled a little at his expression. Yes. We ran into each other once when you were very small. You didn’t talk much even then, but when I healed your bruises, you said ‘thank you’. I believe that’s the only time I’ve ever heard you speak aloud.

It was odd to imagine. At this point, Link hadn’t even heard the sound of his own voice.

Do you wish I’d go back to that? Link asked uncertainly.

Oh, certainly not, Mipha said immediately, and then corrected, That is, I don’t at all expect you to change for any reason. I see you speak every day; that is enough for me.

Link smiled, relieved and a little embarrassed, and Mipha gave him an unexpectedly warm smile back. For a while longer, they both walked without speaking, watching the ruins of the old Hylian outposts.

“Link,” Mipha said softly, catching his attention, and then, I’m sorry for reacting poorly when you asked for time. It caught me by surprise, but that is precious little excuse. I hope you can forgive me.

Link faltered a little, startled.

Of course, he said after a moment. I was never mad. You had good reason to be upset. I’m only sorry there wasn’t a better way to compromise.

Mipha smiled, faintly pained. Funny how inconvenient life can be that way.

Link laughed, and Mipha’s smile eased.

They skirted around a large monster camp, lending unspoken priority to the shrine, and were not quite halfway there when the clang of wood on metal caught Link’s attention. He and Mipha exchanged a quick, serious look, and then they took off.

“C-come at me!” a tremulous voice yelled. “Go on, leave her alone, come at me!”

Link rounded a corner and, as-yet unnoticed by the bokoblin shrieking gleefully at the cornered man, took the chance to crack a claymore over its head and send it crashing to the ground. The man stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed and panting, and opened his mouth. Then shut it and whirled towards something else, and Link followed his gaze.

A woman snarled at a second bokoblin, tight with panic, and then let out a cry as its bat collided with her shoulder. Without hesitation, Link darted towards them and kicked the bokoblin away just to build distance, blocked the first swing of the bat with his own sword, and then tripped it up and ran it through, panting.

“Well done, Link,” Mipha murmured, kneeling to examine the corpse even as the man shuffled in front of the woman, sword only just starting to tremulously drop.

Link pulled his sword free with a grimace and turned towards the couple with a small nod. As if that was some kind of cue, they both nearly collapsed into each other with obvious relief.

“Oh, thank you,” the man breathed, clinging to the woman with a ferocity that made Link wonder how close they were. “I should have known better than to suggest treasure hunting in this area, I’m no swordsman – not like you, goddesses above, that was amazing.”

A little embarrassed, Link shrugged, glancing briefly at Mipha. Mipha gave him a small, amused smile and silently indicated his Sheikah Slate, and he obediently fumbled with it to turn to the couple and ask, “Are you okay?”

“Sheikah tech,” the woman breathed, before the man elbowed her gently. In response, the woman shook herself and straightened, giving Link a strained smile. “We’re fine, I think – that bat didn’t hit as hard as it looked like it would. Mils, are you fine?”

“Completely, now I know you’re alright,” Mils assured her, and then, to Link, “I’m Mils and this is my wife, Mina – we were exploring the area, but uh, we’ll probably move on after this. But would you stay and share a meal with us? As a gesture of thanks, I mean. It’s the least we can do.”

“I’ll keep watch,” Mipha murmured to Link, who just had time to nod before she was walking away, placing herself between the three of them and the castle.

He felt better, knowing she was keeping an eye out for any approaching machines. The very last thing he wanted was to be taken by surprise.

Or at all.

“It would be my pleasure,” Zelda’s voice said with the tap of a button, and when Mils grinned at him and knelt to start arranging a fire, Link knelt beside him to help.

“Where did you get that equipment? Monsters?” Mina asked with interest, unpacking her bag and starting to pick out ingredients. “They always seem to have the best of it, it’s entirely absurd.”

Link nodded, tossing a chunk of flint by the stack of wood when Mils faltered. Mils gave him a grateful look and struck it, and then carefully tended the fire until it burned merrily between them.

“Skeletons. Night. Best,” Zelda’s voice said, the communication rune not quite equipped for concepts so far from what had been going on a hundred years ago.

Mils hesitated. “Not to pry, but…” He glanced meaningfully down at the Sheikah Slate, a touch of apprehension in his eyes, and Link suppressed a sigh.

There was a button in introductions labeled only as ‘reason for silence’. Link barely even thought about it before tapping.

“There’s nothing wrong with my throat or mouth; the difficulty is somewhere in my mind, similar to what might keep you from eating a live frog even though it is technically possible. I can no more speak than you can swallow a butterfly whole, so I use sign language or this device.”

It was flowery, but something about the explanation made Link feel wistful and helplessly fond, tugging at his hood lightly. The patience in Zelda’s voice was audible, the explanation concise and unconcerned, and Link found that he appreciated it.

Mina whistled sympathetically. “Oh, I see. Yeah, Sheikah tech can be real useful for- well, for this kind of thing. Don’t know how you got a hold of it, but I can see why you wouldn’t give it up.”

Link offered a small half-smile and a nod, and then tapped around and asked, “What are you doing here?”

In perfect unison, Mina and Mils both flushed.

“Well, you see-”

“I insisted-”

Both of them stopped, and Link laughed. Mina and Mils looked at each other, then back at him, and Mina said, embarrassed,

“Both of us tend to enjoy exploring ruins, and the area around the outskirts of Hyrule is best for it. Lots of ruins, not many people by to empty them out… there are old books, sometimes, diaries, it’s very fascinating.”

“Unfortunately, it’s also the most rife with monsters,” Mils sighed. “I shouldn’t have suggested it.”

“Oh, hush, I shouldn’t have agreed.”

Mina took a cooking pot out of her pack and placed it over the fire, dropping a careful measure of goat butter inside.

“Where are you going?” Mils asked after a bit, leaning over to watch his wife cook. “Mina and I should probably head home for a while after this, see if we can figure out a safer place to treasure hunt.”

“Maybe try out spelunking,” Mina said ruefully, and Mils chuckled and nodded.

Link thought mountain caves probably had monsters too, but at least these two had the sense to get swords. “Gerudo Desert,” he answered, and then, tongue between his teeth as he searched, “Great Fairy.”

Mils whistled, visibly impressed. “So you’re fond of chasing rumors too.”

Link smiled a little and shrugged. He supposed one could call the word of the Great Fairy Cotera a rumor, if you were feeling uncharitable.

They lingered there for close to an hour, sharing their meal amicably and talking about the surrounding area. Link ran them both through some movements that might help them get away in the future, and then they parted ways, Mina and Mils heading home and Link on to the shrine.

Are you sure you don’t want any? he asked Mipha as they started walking, frowning faintly.

Mipha smiled oddly and shook her head. Let’s hurry. I can make myself something while you’re busy in the shrine. Some of them can be quite long.

Link nodded absently, and dismissed any worries out of hand.

Chapter Text

They made their way towards the desert first. Urbosa led the way there, still stonily silent and radiating ice with every step she took.

Link braced himself, jogged up toward her, and tried to put himself in her line of sight. She turned her head disdainfully, and Link slid to her other side. She turned her head again, lips pursing. Link made a soft sound of protest.

Urbosa sighed heavily, then glanced toward him and raised an eyebrow. “What.”

Link studied her for a moment, wary and unsure.

He liked Urbosa; she was a steady presence, reliable and surehearted, and despite her intolerance for nonsense she was rarely unkind, even in the face of Link’s abject and repeated failures. For one, it meant a lot just that she was there when he woke up, disoriented and afraid, and then stayed. And he understood, too, her worry for Zelda.

He suspected that the handprint on her cheek was the same color as the palm of his hand would have been, before it faded.

I’m sorry for failing to protect Zelda, Link said, when the silence stretched on long enough that Urbosa’s eyes narrowed. And for leaving.

Urbosa’s expression softened subtly, but she didn’t reply, turning her head again. Determined, Link switched to her other side, back into her line of sight, and pushed,

I’m sorry for acting cowardly. I’m sorry for being selfish.

An eternity seemed to pass before Urbosa sighed, something pensive entering into her expression, and she nodded absently.

“Why are we going to my homeland first?” she asked.

It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was clemency, and Link was grateful for it. He skipped ahead just enough to skid into her line of sight again, and started signing, explaining Cotera’s request.

Behind them, Daruk let out an audible sigh of relief.

“It’s the blood moon,” Daruk said grimly, when Link pointed upward at the red moon rising in the sky. Link shot him a frown, and Daruk shrugged. “’S a manifestation of Ganon’s power. Happens every so often. Blood moon rises in the sky, and every monster you’ve slain since the last one comes back.”

Link blanched, even as Revali scoffed, shaking himself as he gave the sky a wary look.

“It’s clever,” he said disdainfully. “A perfect way to keep the kingdom on its knees, and its allies not much better. They struggle to keep enough breathing room to survive, and balk at going out to new or forbidden places.”

Link’s hand clenched around his cracking, stolen sword, staring apprehensively back down the path he’d just traversed, and he heard Mipha sigh over the whistle of the wind.

“Let’s keep going, Link,” she encouraged. “You’ll need to rest for the night before you move on.”

But I cleared the path, he complained halfheartedly, shaking his head as he started walking again. According to Urbosa, there was only one reliable path in and out of the desert. Link had wanted it to be safe. He’d weathered nearly a dozen blows trying to make it safe, and his body ached.

“Oh, Link,” Mipha murmured affectionately, making him flush. She’d taken almost the same tone when he backtracked to get a horse for the stranded traveler.

“It was a good thought, little brother,” Daruk assured him. “You can clear it again on your way back out. It’ll hold for at least a while.”

Link nodded reluctantly, continuing on towards the stable.

“I wonder why the Gerudo aren’t keeping it clear, though,” Urbosa murmured. “Trade and travel are vital to keep the city alive. Keeping the way safe should be a priority.”

Link read the open concern in her voice and promised himself he’d look into it – and definitely clear the path again before he left.

He was rubbing his eyes by the time he reached the Gerudo Canyon stable, but he still paused as he felt the malice in the air rise to a crescendo, so intense that he could taste it. He turned his head to watch the moon, and the fog of poison covering it up, swirling and condensing until the sky was nothing but old and malicious power.

"Be careful, Link," Zelda whispered in his ear, a hoarse and weary echo. "Hyrule needs both of us."

Then, in a flash, it was gone, and the sky was clear again.

The blood moon had passed.

Link let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“And so the cycle begins once again,” Mipha said, soft and disappointed. She nodded at Link. “We’ll meet you in the morning. You may want to climb the tower before you attempt to go into the desert.”

“I’ll be with you the whole time, but you’ll want a map regardless,” Urbosa agreed with a nod to Mipha. “I can think of plenty of shrines in the area; you’ll be busy.”

Link gave them both a small smile and nodded, then waved, turned, and went into the stable, pulling his hood down around his neck as a courtesy. The stablemaster was yawning, clearly ready to fall asleep, and Link smiled apologetically as he plodded in.

“Hour’s late,” the man mumbled, though he gave Link a kind smile. “Got held up on the road?”

Link grimaced at the thought of the wasted time, trying not to contemplate too closely all the monsters that were already back on the path, and nodded. He set the Sheikah Slate on the counter between them, tapped around, and listened to Zelda’s voice say for him, “I’d like a bed for the night, please.”

The stablemaster’s eyebrows rose, squinting at the tablet between them, and then seemed to accept it and said, “Twenty rupees, thirty if you want a meal too, but you can use the cooking pot whenever, long as you clean it up after.”

Link gave him a tired smile and offered a red rupee, which the man took with a nod and a small smile, gesturing to the row of mostly-unoccupied beds lining the back wall. Link stepped back, relieved at the relatively painless transaction, and dropped down to sit by one of the other walls and take a few roasted mushrooms out of his pack to eat before he fell asleep; Daruk would pester him if he didn’t eat.

He was nearly finished, dozing where he sat, when a commotion from outside made him drop what was left and rise to his feet, hand going to the stolen sword on his back. The stablemaster tensed at his reaction, starting to turn, but before either of them could investigate, someone came stumbling in, tripping over the threshold and hitting the ground.

Link let go of his weapon and knelt beside them, looking him over. The man pushed himself upright, still panting heavily, and Link fumbled for his Sheikah Slate.

“Do you need help?” Zelda asked for him.

“There weren’t any monsters and then there were!” the man babbled, not appearing to notice the slate at all. “It’s been so long since the last blood moon, we were sure it’d be- well, and we know how to avoid them, obviously, but we just, we were taken by surprise.”

“Everything is going to be alright,” Link tapped out, reaching without thinking to cover the man’s hand with the one not occupied with the slate. “Do you need help?”

The man was starting to catch his breath now, but his eyes were still wide with fear. “I was- my name is Sesami, I was traveling with friends, but we- we got separated when the monsters, they just came out of nowhere-”

Link’s stomach roiled with nausea and guilt, but he just nodded. For the first time, Sesami focused on him.

“You’re a swordsman, aren’t you?” he asked, almost begging. Link nodded. “Can you find them? I’m useless in a fight, I ran as fast as I could, but my friends- Oliff, Flaxel, Canolo, Palme- they’re still out there. Around Koukot Plateau.”

“I promise,” Zelda said for Link, and without another word, Link tucked his Sheikah Slate against his hip, pulled his hood back up, and turned to walk back out the door.

Urbosa was frowning at him as he emerged. “What was that about?”

Apparently monsters work quickly, Link explained grimly, checking his map out of habit and swearing internally when he remembered he was in a blank area. Do you know where K-o-k-o-t Plateau is? We’re looking for some missing people.

“Bleeding heart,” Revali muttered, but in a moment he was up in the air, leaving no breeze rippling in his wake. Urbosa was nodding.

“I know the way,” she agreed, and for all their teasing, the others were just as on board with helping find Sesami’s friends as Link had been.

“Take a stamina elixir, you’ve been up for hours,” Daruk said firmly, and Link didn’t even argue before taking one out and swallowing it, grimacing around the taste. Daruk chuckled at the face he made. “Guess you’ll get to clear the path again after all, eh, brother?”

Link winced, the bruises scattered over his body aching just at the thought, his muscles already sore from overuse and skin even worse. He shook himself, shrugged, and started heading back the way he came, following Urbosa as she pulled ahead. Maybe half, but I’m not fighting that hinox again tonight.

“Take one for strength as well, when we’re closer,” Mipha said quietly. “It’ll help make up for your exhaustion.”

Link nodded, rolling his shoulders and bracing himself against the harsh stretch. Did I used to be more resilient? Before?

“It doesn’t matter what you used to be,” Mipha deflected. “It matters what you are now.”

Link wasn’t convinced, but he had more important things to worry about. He drew his sword when Urbosa indicated that they were close, and started to climb back up the precarious walkways again.

As if on cue, Revali came back in to land at last, shaking his feathers out with an irritable scowl.

“Four people,” he said shortly, nodding up the way. “Best hurry, they bokoblin will only enjoy themselves terrifying them for so long. One is all the way at the top, and one is on the end of the next walkway over, but the other two you should encounter on your way.”

Link nodded, making his determined way upward without any further delay.

He ran into a man first, trapped between two bokoblin that were entertaining themselves by screeching at him in turns and leaping back when he lashed out with his short blade. The wild look in his eyes told Link he knew exactly how limited his time was, but he kept his white-knuckled grip on his blade and his guard up.

Link’s first strike sliced the nearer bokoblin down its back, making it squeal in pain and rage. He sidestepped a blow from its club and knocked away an arrow from its partner, and the man saw an opening and attacked the bow-wielding bokoblin ferociously.

Without hesitation, Link parried the bokoblin’s next blow, kicked it off the walkway, and then turned and ran the other one through. A flick of his sword, and that one was falling to the rock below as well, leaving just him and the other Hylian, panting heavily.

“Goddess above, your form is outstanding!” the man blurting out after just a beat, turning to Link with wide eyes. “I’ve never seen anyone fight like that, you-” He clapped his hands, startling Link into wincing. “Was it you who cleared the path earlier? I was expecting more monsters, before…” He gestured vaguely.

Link nodded, tilting his head further along the path. The man’s face grew serious.

“Yes, of course, the others- Goddess, I’m a decent fighter, but I wasn’t expecting them to swarm us quite so enthusiastically. We were vastly outnumbered, and I’m the only fighter anyway…” He shook his head, starting to walk. “There are four others, I didn’t see where they went.”

Mindful of his footing, Link took out his Sheikah Slate and started tapping. His friends were trailing behind, save Revali, who was ahead, keeping an eye on the situation; they couldn’t help. The man frowned at him, and it took almost a minute for Link to finally reply, fumbling the keyboard in his impatience.

“Three others. I was sent by Sesami. He’s at the stable.”

It took the man a few moments to process that, but when he finally did, he sighed in relief. “Thank the Goddess, I’m glad he’s safe… Let’s hurry.”

Link nodded, tucked the slate away again, and they sped up, following the sounds of growls and yelps and monstrous squealing.

By the time they found Flaxel, all the way at the top as Revali had said, Link was so sore that he could almost feel his muscles tearing in his arms. The burned skin of his shoulder and chest felt like overstretched taffy. The sun was threatening to rise. The world had smoothed out into steel and wood, tuning out most of the murmurs of the three travelers behind him.

Oliff, to his credit, was still doggedly helping out, though his form had gone sloppy with exhaustion. When Link jerked his head, he gamely fell in beside Link, and they both went for the bokoblin trying to goad Flaxel off the platform.

Link’s broadsword had broken, but a scavenged claymore bit deeper anyway, knocking the bokoblin off its feet. He stomped on its throat, stabbed it against the ground and then pulled his sword out, whirled, and cracked the one Oliff had been occupying over the head, leaving them both panting.

“Oh, shit,” Flaxel wheezed, staring wide-eyed at the fallen monsters and scrambling away from the edge as soon as she registered that she was free. “Oh hell.” She panted for a minute, looking wildly between the group as she slowly calmed down. “Son of a moblin- thanks for the save, I thought I was toast. Hylia.” She gave the group another long look. “Shit, where’s Sesami?”

“Sesami is at the stable already,” Oliff informed her kindly, running an exhausted, trembling hand over his face, wiping away sweat. Flaxel’s concern dissolved instantly into a flash of hurt followed by unchecked outrage.

“All this time?” she demanded. “That fucker’s been lounging while we deal with…!” She gestured angrily at the fallen bokoblin.

“I’m sure he had a good reason,” Palme soothed. Oliff and Link exchanged a wry look. “Let’s just get to the stable, okay? I think we’re all tired.”

Canolo yawned, as if to demonstrate. Flaxel exhaled harshly, then nodded.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, deflating wearily and rubbing both hands over her face. “Yeah. Farosh above…”

Link rubbed his face tiredly, accidentally smearing monster blood across his cheeks, and then started to lead the way back, keeping his sword out and his attention on his surroundings. Oliff took the rear, doing his best to watch their back.

“God, I’m gonna be sore tomorrow,” Flaxel was complaining. “Bastards got way too many hits in.”

“It could have been much worse,” Oliff said grimly. “I’m only glad that we’re all intact.”

Link paused, assessing the road ahead, and then held out an arm to stop them from moving. Oliff started to move up, bracing himself, but Link shook his head, traded his sword for a bow, and nocked an arrow, drawing at an angle that made his shoulder scream in protest.

A few shots knocked the bokoblins across the canyon off their perches, and Link traded back with a grimace and a little roll of his shoulders, and nodded for them to keep walking. Flaxel whistled.

“You might be an even better fighter than Sesami,” Palme whispered in awe, and Link huffed out a ragged laugh despite himself.

Oliff hesitated when they reached the base of the walkway. “Am I correct in supposing that the way forward from here is clear?” Link nodded, and Oliff smiled gently at him. “Then please, allow me to take the lead. You’ve done quite enough.”

Link yawned and shrugged, but fell back for Oliff to take point, stumbling a little as he did. He tugged at his hood absently, trying to keep it on in the faint wind, and finally sheathed his sword again. He glanced back, seeing his friends taking up the rear now – Revali was missing, but Link guessed he had returned to the stable already.

He was a little more comfortable with them watching his back, and he felt himself relax, turning back to the front.

“I didn’t want to bother you too much while you were busy fighting,” Oliff said after a while, in what was almost an undertone. “But I couldn’t help but notice you have a rather interesting mark on the back of your right hand.”

Link blinked at him, then looked down at his hand. He hadn’t realized that the triforce – a faint gold, he could see now – had become noticeable to other people.

“I was thinking,” Oliff continued, looking on ahead, “that your fighting resembled the skill attributed to the hero of legend, and it’s quite astonishing. And that’s all I have to say about that.”

Link, confused and faintly unsettled, opted not to answer.

The next afternoon, Link woke up and instantly lost all desire to move ever again.

‘Sore’ was something of an understatement as to how his muscles felt; it started with stiffness that turned into a burn when he tried to stretch, and then he stood and he found that they didn’t even want to hold him up, so he fell back down as soon as he got to his feet. He stifled a hiss, and then a groan as he registered the throb of deep bruises and the shooting pain of his skin.

His head felt groggy and clouded still, and he had to resist the urge to just lay back down and fall asleep again. Setting his jaw, he stretched carefully, forcing his limbs to obey him and his tight skin to loosen, and then stumbled to his feet. A wave of dizziness threatened to put him back down, and he clenched his jaw through it and shook himself, attracting the attention of the stablemaster, who smiled at him.

“Ah, you’re up,” the man called warmly, waving him over. Link’s ears twitched at the impact of his voice, and he had to keep himself from pulling on his ears. “Sesami and his group have been telling stories, if you’re up to preen a little. They say you marked every one of them while you were at it.”

Link blinked, looking down at his hands, and found that it was true: where he had comforted Sesami, where he had pulled Oliff back from the edge, where he had ushered Palme and Canolo along and tugged Flaxel away from an arrow…

He had five new pastel marks on his hands in half a rainbow of colors, blues and oranges and greens. A smile flickered across his face, weary but warm, and a soft glow stayed in his chest even as he stumbled on his way outside.

Sesami and his friends were gathered around the cooking pot, talking up a small storm, and as soon as Link came out, Sesami noticed him, clapped, and pointed. “It’s you!”

Link pointed at himself, smiling briefly in amusement, and Sesami said accusingly,

“You never told anyone your name!”

Well, he hadn’t had time.

Just outside the stable, Link paused, scanning what he could see of the canyon, one way, then the other, then the upper levels to be safe. Satisfied there were no monsters, he grabbed his Sheikah Slate, nodded to his friends hanging around one of the stone pillars, and tapped into introductions and then, “My name is Link.”

Oliff nodded to himself, as if confirming a suspicion. Link avoided his gaze, sat where he could continue surveying the canyon, and started stretching with a wince, trying to work the pain and stiffness out of his overtaxed muscles. His toughened skin pulled with each movement, softening only reluctantly.

“I know sign, if that would be easier for you,” Canolo offered unexpectedly, eyes wide and focused on him. Immediately, despite himself, Link perked up; so few people besides his friends knew it. Canolo smiled a little, kicking her feet against the box she sat on. “I’m not very good, but my great-grandfather was pretty insistent, so it kind of got passed down.”

Link smiled. I’ll keep it easy, he promised her, and then, Is everyone alright?

“Everyone is fine, thanks to you,” Canolo assured him. Link flushed involuntarily, and Canolo and Palme both laughed. “And Sesami has something for you.”

Flaxel kicked Sesami. Apparently she hadn’t completely forgiven him. Sesami rubbed his side ruefully, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of rupees, including a silver, Link noticed.

“Everyone pitched in for it as thanks,” Sesami explained, holding it out for Link to take. “I mean, it’s the least we can do, considering how screwed we’d’ve been without your help.”

Face still glowing with embarrassment, Link chose to go for his slate again for this one even as he pocketed them. “Thank you.” He glanced over them, then asked Canolo, Where are you going next?

“Well, about that…” Canolo said hesitantly, and Link tilted his head at the others. She flushed. “Uh, he asked where we were going next.”

“Oh, we’re splitting up,” Sesami said matter-of-factly, and Link nearly rolled his eyes. “I think I might go to the Great Hyrule Forest, follow the rumors.” Link raised an eyebrow, and Sesami elaborated, suddenly enthusiastic, “They say the legendary sword is there – the sword that seals the darkness. If I got my hands on that, maybe I could actually fight.”

Link, until then still running through half-remembered stretches, froze. In his mind’s eye, he could almost see the flash of a purple hilt. An echo of a voice, too soft to hear, murmured in the back of his mind.

He was overly aware of Oliff watching him. He went back to stretching, listening to the others detail their plans in turns.

“Where are you going, Link?” Oliff asked instead of answering himself, head cocked and arms crossed. Link twisted in place, sighed in resignation as he decided his body wouldn’t be loosening up any more than that, and finally settled cross-legged by the fire.

I’ll explore the desert, he explained, smiling gratefully as Canolo echoed his words this time. The Great Fairy in Kakariko, Cotera, said that there was one around here as well.

C-o-r-a? Canolo checked uncertainly.

C-o-t-e-r-a, Link corrected, slowing down patiently. Canolo nodded with determination, opened her mouth, then flushed and repeated the sign he’d used for ‘great fairy’. With a sympathetic smile, Link reached for his Sheikah Slate and explained, “Great Fairy.”

“The Great Fairy Cotera in Kakariko told him there was one here too!” Canolo blurted out, and Link gave her a grin and a nod of confirmation. She beamed back, then seemed to register his actual words. “There’s a Great Fairy in Kakariko? And you talked to them?”

Link nodded. Hidden and hard to find, but not gone.

Palme whistled softly. “Goddess, I’d love to see a Great Fairy sometime. Maybe I’ll drop by there. I’m not really interested in running around the desert anymore.”

There was a small murmur of agreement around the circle, and Link chuckled quietly. His stomach rumbled, and Flaxel raised an eyebrow at him and gestured at the cooking pot.

“Plenty left,” she said mildly.

Thank you, Link signed sheepishly, and reached forward.

Chapter Text

Eventually, Link had to break away from Sesami’s group to start running tasks – he knew today needed to be quiet, certainly, but he would never forgive himself if he didn’t get anything done.

There was a man in the stable who’d offered to trade him a diamond for fifty-five rushrooms, so Link wanted to start gathering those. He needed to activate the tower nearby as well, sooner rather than later, and of course there were Koroks everywhere- and he’d seen quite a few ore nodes around…

“What’s on the list today, little brother?” Daruk asked cheerfully, and Link immediately started enthusiastically explaining, scanning the cliffs for a good place to climb up. Mipha chuckled softly.

“You seem cheerful today,” she noted, an undertone of curiosity in her voice, and Link paused to consider.

It was true. After the stress and exhaustion of yesterday, and how much he was paying for it today, he’d have expected to be in a darker mood. And indeed, he could feel an echo of that oversensitivity now, that stretched-thin and overwhelmed feeling. He slowed to a walk, never faltering in his steady scan of the area, and hummed when Mipha tilted her head quizzically.

I’m glad I was able to help them, he said at last, decisively, and picked a place to start climbing, fingers digging into the rough stone and feet scrambling for a hold. Behind him, Mipha laughed.

Daruk reached the top first without Link’s notice, grinning at him as he poked his head up, huffing and panting. “Never hold still for a moment, do you?” he murmured, and then, “They seemed mighty grateful, brother. You did a good thing, helpin’ them out.”

Link beamed at him, signing as he caught his breath; the exertion left him briefly dizzy, but it cleared up soon enough. I’ll have to finish clearing the path again soon. That hinox can’t be good for business.

Urbosa snorted disdainfully, catching the tail end. “Under ordinary circumstances, the Gerudo guard ought to be able to handle it themselves.” She paused, and then reluctantly, “But if they’re having trouble, I suppose some help would be appreciated.”

Link gave her a small smile, brushing himself off and starting to walk. Revali fell in beside him, huffing.

“Your non-confrontational mood certainly didn’t last very long,” Revali muttered acerbically, and Link cocked an eyebrow. Revali snorted at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to show off those sword skills you used to be so well known for.”

Link faltered, expression creasing, and Revali’s expression fell into a scowl and he looked away quickly. Mipha filled in, something about her voice soothing even when very little was wrong.

Well. If one could count ‘remembering nothing about one’s own past’ as being very little, but that was just the hand Link currently held.

“You were famous for being a prodigy even before the sword of legend accepted you,” Mipha explained, eyes bright and fond. “You were beating grown men in the ring by the time you were four.”

Link hesitated, and then asked tentatively, Who taught me?

“Your father did,” Urbosa said unexpectedly, without looking at him. “He was a member of the royal guard. For Malon, the late queen, and then for the king following her death.”

Link swallowed, unsure how to express or process the emotions swelling up in the wake of this information. My mother?

“…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” And Urbosa did sound genuinely apologetic. When Link looked hopefully at Mipha, she shook her head as well, and Link deflated.

How many more things had time swallowed that Link would never know, because his memory had failed him?

If he didn’t record this somewhere, would this be lost to him too?

Thank you, he said instead, as earnest as he could, looking at Urbosa. She let out a sigh, and nodded silently.

“Your ma worked in the palace too,” Daruk said unexpectedly, and grinned when Link jumped and looked at him with more desperation than he would admit. “In the stables, I think, trained and bred the horses. She gave you your Epona, and a better-trained mare I’d never seen anywhere.”

Epona, Link mouthed to himself, and then, fingerspelling, E-p-o-n-a, and then, in a flash of intuition, signed something like e-pony.

Daruk laughed out loud. “Yeah, that’s the sign. Always thought it was real clever. She was trained with sign, too, I saw you use it with her a couple times.”

Link beamed hard enough to make his cheeks ache with his arms and legs.

From the top of the tower, Link could see what he guessed could only be a Divine Beast – an enormous machine shaped like a camel, laboriously pacing circles in the desert and kicking up a sandstorm that covered nearly a quarter of it. Even from so far away, Link could see lightning flashing in the clouds around it.

He watched it for almost thirty minutes, relishing in the quiet that blanketed the top of the tower, before finally slipping off the edge and opening his paraglider. He dropped back to the ring of stone around the bog-muck, where his friends were waiting, and shook the dust off himself.

Did it have a name? he asked Urbosa, gesturing in the direction of the beast.

Real grief flashed across her eyes, so quick that Link almost missed it. “Vah Naboris,” she answered, no sign of her turmoil in her voice, and then, in sign, V-N, her closed fist pulling down from one letter to the other in a way that denoted power.

Link echoed the sign and nodded, refraining from glancing over his shoulder, and started on the way back down to the stable. Forty rushrooms wasn’t a bad haul, considering he’d started with eleven, and he’d gotten a decent amount of good ore that Urbosa assured him he’d be able to sell in the city. That, some weapons, and a handful of darner dragonflies meant that he’d be in excellent shape to tackle the desert the next day-

Link’s thoughts stuttered to a halt as he dropped down closer to the path, close enough to see a traveler limping along the canyon road, clearly struggling to even manage that much. His stomach swooped with guilt, head turning to follow the path behind them as if to see the monsters still left.

He should have taken care of the damn hinox, overexertion be damned.

“Wait-” Urbosa started, voice sharp with suspicion, but Link wasn’t listening. He brought out his paraglider again and dropped down close enough to the traveler to catch their attention, already fumbling with the slate.

“Do you need help?” Zelda’s voice asked, calm and collected and familiar.

The traveler looked at the slate first, and Link held back a frustrated sigh, eyes already scanning the traveler automatically to find their injuries. Then their mouth spread into a vicious smile.

“That’s an interesting bit of Sheikah technology you have there,” they said, and straightened upright. Link froze, muscles going stiff and uncooperative as he rang with the notion that something was horribly wrong. It took everything he had, suddenly, not to lash out at the person in front of him.

Was Link imagining the faint taste of malice at the back of his throat?

“And an even more interesting,” they continued, taking a step toward Link, and then another when Link stepped back, “mark of the goddess you have on your hand… hero of Hylia.” Their grin widened, something wild in their eyes. “I will take your life in the name of the Yiga.”

Someone else might have been too slow seeing the sickle coming towards them to react. As it was, time slowed down for Link, his heart speeding up in the rush of battle, but he still only just twisted out of the way in time, and what would have been a neat slice across his throat turned into a vicious score down his arm. He gasped in pain, feeling hot blood well up from the wound.

It didn’t stop him from reaching for the spear strapped to his back; he didn’t know what kind of training he’d gotten as a child, but he found that his body moved exactly as he needed no matter how exhausted or painful it was.

His blood roared in his ears, his breath coming too hard for so little exertion, but Link ignored it all and sidestepped the man’s next blow to plunge the speartip into their gut, earning a hoarse shout. Ducked under another swipe of the sickle, the traveler’s vicious grin dissolving into a foul snarl, and Link did taste malice and it tasted like the presence of guardians.

He stabbed again, his footwork neat and precise even as his muscles tried to tremble, and the traveler didn’t dodge in time, taking it deep into his stomach and doubling over in obvious pain. They tried to lash out with the scythe again, much weaker and slower, and Link kicked them in the chest, sending the traveler tumbling to the ground.

The man coughed harshly, gestured, and was gone in a rush of magic.

Link panted, staring at the spot where they had disappeared, struggling to understand what had just happened. Why there was blood running down his arm, and his heartbeat racing in his throat.

That had been a person.

That hadn’t been a monster, a bokoblin or a moblin or lizalfos, but a Hylian person, who had recognized him, set a trap just for him, and tried to kill him. Who had surprised him badly enough to score first blood.

Because his guard had been down. He’d been in a good mood, and his guard was down.

He tasted bile.

“Alright, little brother,” Daruk said, suddenly beside Link and startling him into lashing out with his elbow. He missed, but Daruk raised his empty hands anyway, a shadow over his eyes. “Easy, brother, let’s get you to the stable. You need to be patched up.”

“I saw you brew a hearty elixir, that will help,” Mipha added anxiously, stepping up beside Daruk and meeting Link’s wide eyes. “Take it, Link. You can always make another.”

Link swallowed and nodded halfheartedly, feeling his heart still beating a tattoo into his chest. He freed a hearty potion and drank it down, and it at least stopped the blood dripping down his elbow.

His hands were shaking, Goddess damn it. He clamped one over the wound protectively, not looking at anyone. Swallowed bile again as his stomach roiled.

Yiga, he spelled with one hand. Mipha made a soft, hurt sound.

“I didn’t think they’d find you so quickly,” she murmured, and looked down at his hand. “I… hadn’t noticed the goddess mark.”

The mark was still very faint, it was true, not nearly as noticeable as the various shades of soul paint starting to splash over his fingers and palms. But it shone in the light. Link tried to shove down the urge to cover it.

“You know the Yiga, brother,” Daruk said, with a steady calm Link latched onto. “You were told about them in Kakariko, weren’t you?” Link nodded. “And you beat them easily. You’re skilled with a blade.” Link nodded again. “Get to the stable so someone can bandage you up, little brother. Eat some food. You’ll feel better.”

Link nodded, throat thick and aching with unhappiness.

“The Yiga always show up when it’s least convenient, don’t they,” Urbosa muttered icily, and Mipha sighed.

The pleasant, proud high that had held Link up through the morning had long since dissolved by the time he reached the stable again, darkness starting to fall over the canyon. The stablemaster waved as Link approached, but his expression turned to concern as he registered the wound Link was still covering.

“Finally run out of luck?” he called out sympathetically, turning to beckon someone from deeper in the stable.

Link missed most of the ensuing conversation, but at the end of it, Oliff hurried out of the stable, brow deeply furrowed. Link shrank in on himself, head turning away as a sense of shame swept over him, but all he was met with was Mipha, silently urging him onward.

“Let me see,” Oliff said, so firmly that Link let go of the wound without thinking, keeping a wary eye on Oliff nonetheless, like he would suddenly grin- “Not as bad as it could have been- did you have an elixir on you?” Link nodded, breath short. “Good, that’s good- sit down, we need to bandage this up. I’d stitch it but unfortunately I’m no doctor.”

Link found himself being shuffled over to the cooking pot again, Oliff suddenly as fussy as a mother duck, sitting Link down and where had he gotten that roll of bandages? Why couldn’t Link stop staring at his hands like they were alien?

It wasn’t until Link was holding his arm out and Oliff was wiping the wound out, making Link hiss, that Oliff finally asked quietly, “How did anything get you this badly?”

Link fumbled for the Sheikah Slate, messing with the options that popped up under the communication rune. The pressure to respond quickly seemed less at the moment, Oliff focused mostly on cleaning away sand and then on wrapping the cloth around and around, ignoring Link’s grunts of displeasure, and eventually Link replied, “Hylian. Traveler. Ambush. Yiga clan. It was a surprise.”

“Ah,” Oliff breathed, tying the bandage off. Link flicked his head, grimacing. “I’ve heard of the Yiga Clan. What manner of ambush, if I may ask?”

His voice was carefully neutral, almost indifferent. Link didn’t like it. His ears were starting to twitch with agitation, and he tried to shrug it off, rubbing his palms against his thighs before he reached to answer. “From the bridge. Injured. Traveler. Ambush.”

Urbosa had tried to warn him. She’d known something was wrong. How had she known something was wrong?

He glanced up, and found that Urbosa and Revali were watching the path on one side, Mipha and Daruk on the other. Instantly, he started to settle, relief sweeping over him.

Oblivious, Oliff hummed disapproving. “How lowly. But you of all people know that there were few bokoblin left in the canyon after last night, so why-”

“Hinox,” Link cut him off, still angry at himself for leaving that opening. There was the camp as well, and the mounted bokoblin – but the hinox was nearly unavoidable and it was the first thing he’d thought of.

Oliff hesitated. “I had rumors that there was a hinox on the bridge, but we didn’t encounter one, so we assumed that they were false. Did you…?”

Despite everything, there was a touch of awe in his voice. Link laughed weakly, reaching up to rub at his face in frustration. He hissed as the movement pulled at the gash in his arm, and then nodded.

Link tested the range of movement in his arm – it made him wince, pain shooting up his shoulder and making his breath catch, but he could move it as he needed, powering through the feeling with a will he hadn’t quite realized he possessed.

He reached for the slate again. “I’ll handle it. Tomorrow.”

Oliff stared at him for a moment, from his eyes to the freshly bandaged wound and back to his face, clearly trying to figure out if he was serious, and Link stared evenly back. After an eternity, Oliff covered his face and let out a weak, slightly incredulous chuckle.

“I’d offer to help,” he said, “but I think I would be more of a hindrance.”

Link shrugged, released a small bowl of food from his slate, and absently started to dig in, trying to remind himself that his friends were watching the road and he didn’t need to.

He only sort of succeeded, and spent a lot of the rest of that night by the cooking pot, running through sword forms and keeping an eye on the road.

After a night of sleep that was fitful at best, Link set out early the next morning, scarcely looking at anybody and refusing to even glance at any of the travelers he passed.

It wasn’t like him, and he knew his friends noticed, mostly because they didn’t seem to care if he overheard them talking about him. He wasn’t sure whether he appreciated or resented it, and he tried not to think too closely about it either way. He felt jittery and stretched, but he steadfastly ignored it.

“-should have told him,” Revali was saying, icy and irritable.

“The situation is fragile,” Mipha said sharply. “You know it, I know it, we’ve made significant efforts to keep it as stable as we can- perhaps it would have helped, Revali, but perhaps it wouldn’t have.”

“Is that the principle we’re planning on going with from here on out?” Revali asked acerbically. “Let’s not make any changes, for fear of making things worse for our delicate hero?”

Mipha took a deep, loud breath and let it out in a soft hiss. “I know you’re worried too, but I feel that allowing Link to handle himself is the best approach for now. We can adjust it if the situation changes.”

“It hasn’t yet been a full month,” Daruk pitched in, soft and heavy. “Let him have some time, Revali. It ain’t like you to be so impatient when it counts.”

Revali scoffed. “Some things can’t wait. We should have told him about the Yiga when he strayed so close to their headquarters.”

“Perhaps,” Urbosa inserted, cutting across the commotion. “But we didn’t.”

I can hear you, Link signed over his shoulder at last, and to his surprise, Daruk let out a hearty, warm chuckle.

“We know, little brother. No worries. Taking care of that hinox?”

Link nodded. And the bokoblin.

“You sure you’re up for it? No one would blame you for just moving right along with that arm. Anyone passing through often probably knows what they’re up against already.”

It was worse than Daruk had probably realized; Link was so nauseous he felt like vomiting, and his head ached in a tight band around his temples. There was a faint spin to his head that hadn’t faded since he’d gotten up that morning.

Link shrugged, pulled himself up to settle on a high ledge, and drew his bow, setting his sights on the bokoblin camp below.

“Speaking of things he needs to be told…” Revali murmured, almost too soft for Link to hear.

“Too far, Revali,” Mipha said with warning, and Revali fell silent.

It took the better part of the morning for Link to deal with the bokoblin camp and the mounted bokoblin just at the end of the bridge – one of them, he noticed with some amusement, running around on foot where he’d stolen its horse – which just left the hinox sleeping on the island.

He’d reopened the wound on his arm, he could feel, and it was threatening to bleed through the bandage wrapped around it. Bruises were stacking on top of bruises, which was just the price he paid for letting himself get hit so many times. His head was starting to pound.

And there was Beedle, trudging up the bridge and stopping halfway across. Link guessed, with that backpack, there was no way he was going to be able to take an alternate route; he was probably planning to sneak by.

Not a bad plan, especially if he’d done it before, but not great either. Link glanced helplessly at his friends, wishing they could help, before just shaking himself and marching down to the hinox. That would probably catch Beedle’s attention, and he would stay back.

Goddess, Link hoped he would stay back. He really wasn’t in the mood for an argument right now.

Fortunately enough, Beedle did notice him and he did stay back – he also started waving Link back furiously, frantic and flailing, but that was easy enough for Link to ignore while Beedle was still so fretful about waking the hinox. Instead, Link heaved himself up onto the hinox’s belly, ignoring it as it started to stir, and plunged a rusty claymore deep into its throat.

That didn’t kill it, of course – it was far too big – but its single eye bulged open in pain, and Link took the chance to fire an arrow into it before sliding off and grabbing for another, better sword.

Mipha had coached him through most of this process – something as big as a hinox took a more systematic approach to take down by yourself, but, she assured Link, it was entirely possible if you were skilled and brave enough. His arm started to screech in pain, his bruised body protesting the impact of abandoning the hinox, but Link pushed through it, jaw clenched.

Better to take care of the hinox now than leave another opening.

By the time the hinox had stumbled to its feet, bellowing in pain, Link was already at its ankles, slicing as deeply as his arms could handle. Its legs gave out under it, and Link had to throw himself away from its slapping, heavy hands, hitting the ground hard enough to make it shake. Link hissed too, faltering as the harsh movements made his body throb and his stomach turn.

The hinox roared. Link stepped back, grimacing, and shot a fire arrow at its throat alongside the claymore still stuck there. Then a shock arrow for good measure.

With a few convulsions, the hinox fell limp, and Link contemplated just rolling it off the edge into the lake without even picking anything off it. Then, with a sigh, he strode over to it, rolled it face-up, and started untangling the trophy weapons it had tied around its neck.

He couldn’t help but tense as he heard footsteps pounding closer, but in an instant, Mipha was there, soft voice and calm tone. “It’s just Beedle, Link. You like Beedle.”

Link nodded tightly, placed each of the weapons into his Sheikah Slate, and crawled up to pry the hinox’s mouth open and pull a few promising-looking teeth, prying them out with his hunting knife.

“You know, there are easier ways to get money,” Beedle wheezed, an undercurrent of shock and awe to his voice. Link shrugged, tucked the teeth away too, and slid down to cut the hinox’s belly open.

Stomach from hinoxes, liver from moblin, the still-beating heart of bokoblin and lynels – Mipha had been very helpful in explaining what organs were best for elixirs.

Road’s clear, he signed without looking up, digging in with a grimace. The insides of monsters were so goddess-damned slimy, and his arm was protesting the extra use, but he just wanted to get this done.

Teeth and guts and toenails-

“…Sorry, what was that?” Beedle asked awkwardly. Link sighed and waved him on, but Beedle lingered, actually coming closer. “Hey- hey, is that a bandage? Looks like you’ve bled through.”

Startled, Link looked down at his arm. Indeed, the extra exertion had finally reopened the wound enough that he’d bled fully through the bandages and left a large red spot. That explained why it hurt so badly.

“I’ll show you how to change it later,” Mipha said quietly, and Link nodded.

He cut out the stomach and added it to the Sheikah Slate, then pushed himself further down to start fiddling halfheartedly with the hinox’s feet.

A few more minutes of silence passed. Beedle stayed, and no other travelers came by. Link added the hinox’s two big toenails to the slate, wiped his hands off, and looked up, cocking his head wearily.

When he met his eyes, Beedle grinned.

“I didn’t know there was anyone that could take on a hinox alone!” he chirped cheerfully, apparently recovered from his surprise. Link shrugged, making his arm burn, and Beedle barged on. “It’s a real treat meeting you here, the route through Gerudo Canyon always has so many monsters-”

Despite himself, Link smiled faintly, picked at his slate a little, and came up with, “The road is clear.”

There was a split second’s pause, and then Beedle grinned. His eyes flickered to Link’s bandaged arm, so quickly Link almost could have missed it.

“Wowie!” Beedle declared instead, doing a little jig in place. “We must be bound by fate! Oh, but not too bound- wouldn’t dream of stopping either of our travels.”

Link could see just a flash of the green in the palm of Beedle’s hand – was it a few shades darker than it had been before? He rolled his shoulders, hissing at the ache and pull, and climbed to his feet, forcing himself not to sway as his head spun. Then he nodded down the road and started the work of rolling the hinox off into the water. No reason to frighten anyone.

Beedle still didn’t take the hint, waiting around for Link to finish. Without turning to face him, Link frowned a little.

“Why don’t you just go with him, little brother?” Daruk encouraged quietly, leaning down as if to keep their conversation private. “He seems the patient type, might keep waiting around here all day if you don’t.”

Link snorted and flicked his head, dismissing the idea, but turned and started to walk with Beedle, glancing back over the road to make sure they weren’t being followed. He didn’t miss the way Beedle cast fleeting looks at the remains of the bokoblin they passed by, but for some reason the man didn’t comment.

“I’ll walk ahead,” Urbosa said, after a while of watching him with an inscrutable expression. “I expect I’m best able to identify members of the Yiga in disguise. As Revali mentioned, their headquarters are quite close to here.”

Link gave her a grateful nod, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders, and she strode on ahead while Daruk and Revali fell back. Mipha stayed close, casting quick, worried looks at his arm, her hands twitching up every so often as if to touch it.

“So, arrows!” Beedle said brightly, when they’d been quiet for so long that they’d nearly reached the stable. “I brought about forty, if that’s good. Same trade as last time, arrows for monster parts?”

Link cast him a weary smile, nodding without hesitation. I’ve got two dozen bokoblin horns, a dozen fangs, eight bokoblin hearts, two moblin livers, and seven moblin horns. I can go up or down if you need.

He actually had a bit more, but he’d picked up at Outskirt that magic-dense monster parts, like gems, were more of a specialty item than something bought or sold by casual merchants.

“Looks like you’re the one turning a profit here,” Beedle teased, like he didn’t sell the parts for twice what he paid Link for them. “It’s good to have another monster hunter ‘round, though. Parts are always pretty thin on the ground.”

Link raised his eyebrows, half his attention occupied trying to do math in his head. The blood moons should be keeping people fairly well supplied, with such reliable places to find concentrations of monsters-

“Even people skilled with a sword don’t usually have it in them to kill more than a bokoblin or two,” Beedle explained, correctly interpreting Link’s expression, to his surprise. “At this rate, I’m going to have to reduce the price I sell monster parts at!”

He didn’t seem too upset about it, but Link apologized anyway, a swift and simple sign. Beedle laughed.

“No worries, friend! It’s amazing. You should’ve seen the face of the first doctor I ran into when I told her I had two dozen bokoblin horns for her.”

Link’s mouth opened, and Mipha inserted gently, “Most monster parts go to doctors to make elixirs, especially the more powerful ones – lynel hearts, hinox stomachs. The magical healing properties are invaluable.”

Oh. Link hadn’t realized that.

He gave Mipha a small, pleased smile, and she grinned warmly back, eyes sparkling with delight. Then, finally, he flicked through his Sheikah Slate with grimy hands and asked, “Are you stopping at? Gerudo Canyon. Stable.”

“I was gonna continue on to Kara Kara Bazaar and stop at the stable on my way back!” Beedle said cheerfully. “I’d love to go into the city itself-” Urbosa snorted derisively. “-but that’s not allowed.”

Link glanced at Urbosa in question. Urbosa flicked her hand, dismissing him.

“I’ll go with you,” Link said, then tucked the slate away with finality. Beedle grinned at him, seeming genuinely delighted.

“Fantastic! We can trade at the stable, get you well supplied for the road there?”

Link chuckled softly, nodding.

“And we can rebandage your arm,” Beedle added casually. “Maybe use one of those fancy monster parts for an elixir of your own! I’ve got some lizards on me that should be good for it.”

Link clicked his tongue a few times, quiet and dismissive, but Mipha cleared her throat pointedly, and he sighed and nodded.

Chapter Text

Link and Beedle parted ways at the bazaar, and for a few minutes, Link just watched Beedle walk away and start to barter with some of the merchants sat around the pool. At least he wasn’t panting and sweating in the heat of the sun anymore; the chilly elixir Link had basically forced him to take should last him the rest of the day.

Traditionally, this was when Link would start to go around and talk to the people in town, seeing what they knew and what stories they had to tell. He could already hear Zelda’s voice running through the familiar routine for him.

I’m an adventurer, I like to meet people.

What brings you here?

Do you have any interesting stories about the area?

Do you need help?

But now Link couldn’t stop thinking about the Yiga who had set the trap for him, and found himself just sitting at the edge of the pool, dangling on foot in and rubbing the back of his right hand, covering up the mark there. It gave his stomach time to settle too, the ache of his head fading from a harsh throb to a faint pulse and his dizziness receding.

He should probably try to rest soon. Properly rest.

After a long time, Urbosa finally gave a heavy sigh and sat beside him, her feet dipping into the water.

Pull your hood up, she directed, her voice so firm that Link was doing it almost before he’d realized she’d spoken. Take the gloves from your doublet, put them on. Take your bandana, wrap as much of the Sheikah Slate in it as you can without making it unusable.

Link followed her instructions, and was startled to realize when he was finished that she’d effectively covered almost every distinguishing feature that could mark him out as- well. As a person of interest.

He looked up at her, relieved… and for the first time, he noticed just a few wisps of vivid green on her, little brushes around her neck and ears.

Instead of commenting, he said, Thank you. And then, What did Beedle mean, he can’t enter Gerudo Town?

Urbosa huffed a soft snort. What you do and do not remember continues to be unpredictable. V-o-e, men, cannot enter Gerudo Town; it is forbidden, as a place of security for v-a-i of all kinds.

Link deflated, disappointed. He supposed this would be as far as he would go.

Unexpectedly, Urbosa gave him a minute smile.

You’re young enough that you’re not yet a voe, she clarified. You are a v-i-n, a child. If you act a fool you’ll be expelled all the same, but you’ve never done so before and I doubt you’ll do so now.

Link smiled shyly at Urbosa, not expecting such a declaration of implied trust after how terrible he’d been of late. She rolled her eyes, a wisp of fondness passing across her face, and he asked, What about Revali and Daruk?

They’ll be staying here, out of respect for the rules, Urbosa explained, casting an unheeded warning glance back. Mipha and I will be accompanying you.

I thought you didn’t like populated areas? Link questioned curiously, and Urbosa tossed her head with a put-upon sigh.

Revali is correct. We cannot continue to be as gentle as we have been.

Link didn’t ask any further questions, instead standing up, tugging lightly at his hood, and looking around. He hesitated, and Urbosa picked up on it seemingly without difficulty.

“There are no Yiga here, Link,” she said firmly. “And if there were, that is why there is a guard stationed here as well.”

Link glanced over at said guard, relaxed a little, and nodded. Guardians?

“There were never any guardians permitted in Gerudo Desert,” Urbosa said with certainty, and Link let out a soft sigh of relief. Then he started to explore the bazaar.

He passed out a few more chilly elixirs as needed, listened to a few people chatter excitedly about sandstorms, and sat beside a Gerudo woman named Rhondson as she talked about tailoring for a while, and more specifically her frustrating lack of success with it.

“Of course, it’s probably of no help that Vilia was here before I was,” she was saying regretfully. Link made a vague, curious gesture, and Rhondson shrugged. “She’s a Gerudo tailor as well, quite skilled at picking out colors and styles to suit different bodies. You might find her interesting to talk to, I suppose – she lives over that way…” She gestured. “But spends a lot of time on the roof watching Vah Naboris these days, especially in the evenings. You might find her there.”

Link nodded gratefully, and sat and listened to Rhondson talk for a little while longer – she was thinking about traveling, she told him, but wasn’t the wandering type and had nowhere in particular to go.

“I have no idea how he gets people to tell him these things,” Revali muttered, leaning against the wall with his wings crossed.

“It’s because he’s likable, Revali,” Urbosa sniped back.

“I think the technical term in this case is charismatic,” Mipha supplied, smiling with a sparkling sort of pride. “It’s good to see he hasn’t lost that.”

Link felt himself smile a little more, bid Rhondson farewell, and went to seek out Vilia. It was nearly sunset now, the area starting to cool off pleasantly – a relief against his faintly feverish skin – but he hadn’t seen anyone climb down and it was worth a try.

Vilia startled a little when he climbed up onto the roof, turning away from where she was sat on the edge watching Naboris to look at him. Most of her face was covered in a soft cloth veil, but Link could see her thick eyebrows and intense scarlet eyes, and just a touch of a stubble-stroked jawline before her veil moved to cover it. Her scarlet hair swept loosely around her arms.

Link waved, sitting himself down a comfortable distance away from her, a little further than normal in deference to her guarded posture. He started to tap at his Sheikah Slate, but after a moment, Vilia waved for his attention. He looked up in question, reaching up to brush sweaty hair out of his face.

I saw you using sign down there, Vilia said, to his surprise. Her gestures were slow and halting, but clear, and he felt himself smile in delight. Is this how you like to communicate?

He nodded quickly, tucking the slate away as if she would somehow banish her knowledge from existence if he was too slow. Yes, thank you. I like to meet people, and Rhondson said you might have an interesting story to tell. Do you mind?

Vilia’s eyebrows raised, though she looked interested. I don’t know. What kind of story?

Anything, Link assured her earnestly. Whatever you feel like. I like stories.

She was starting to look charmed, and a little bit amused as well. She tapped her knee for a moment, making soft ‘hm’ sounds, and then finally signed, I am half-Gerudo. You may have noticed. My grandfather was too young to have served in the Hylian army one hundred years ago. If he’d had time, he would have.

Link nodded along, a pleased sort of warmth spreading through him that came with being trusted with others’ stories. He wondered if he’d known this man once, or perhaps his father; it was an odd, startling thought.

The man who taught him to use a sword used mainly sign language, Vilia continued, slow and careful. My grandfather respected him a lot. For this reason he taught all his children sign, and all his grandchildren. Some of my best memories with that man are learning sign with him. It is happy to use it again.

Link smiled, brighter than he had in what felt like weeks. Glad to help, he signed warmly. Did he teach you to use a sword as well?

He tried, Vilia said ruefully. I never fought well. We quickly learned that I preferred homemaker activities. I like to sew best, but sometimes I cook for the inn. But I am okay with a knife.

R said you are a tailor, Link supplied with interest. Vilia’s eyes crinkled in a smile, and she nodded. Did you make your own clothes? I like them.

I did, she confirmed with clear pride. I have been making my own clothes for years. I could make something for you too.

That was fair; Link rarely met a merchant who didn’t offer to trade at least once during a conversation. He found himself glancing over her outfit with interest, and found himself focusing on her hands, lightly brushed over with a few splashes and smears of soul paint up to her wrists and forearms.

She wasn’t quite wearing gloves. But her outfit-

It covered the backs of her hands.

Vilia, of course, noticed him looking. I make masculine clothes too, she assured him, laughing quietly.

Link hesitated.

I like what you’re wearing now, he admitted haltingly.

Vilia raised her eyebrows, her forehead creasing, though her veil kept her expression largely unreadable. You don’t need a disguise to get into the city. You seem young.

I know, Link assured her, hesitated, and then admitted in slower motions, But I don’t really want to appear myself right now. And I really do like it.

Her expression softened. I could make you something, of course, for a fair price. I’ve been saving up for a pair of amber earrings and don’t have the materials to trade, so perhaps-

How much do you need? Link interrupted, leaning forward a little. Vilia blinked, taken aback.

I’d need ten pieces to trade, she said after a moment. Link smiled.

Done, he said without hesitation. Vilia stared at him for a while.

Are you sure? she asked.

I travel a lot, he assured her. Amber is easy to find, and I have twenty on hand. Not many merchants can buy gems.

Her eyes crinkled at the corners again. Then let’s get you measured for a pretty vai outfit.

I need to ask now, Vilia signed, when they were inside her tent and he’d given her the amber he’d promised. Are you deaf? Link shook his head, and she nodded thoughtfully. That is helpful. I will be able to talk to you while I measure. Do you mind? Link shook his head, smiling slightly.

“Excellent,” Vilia murmured, voice soft in a way that didn’t quite hide the richness of her voice. She started to busy herself around the tent, picking out cloth and measuring tape and scissors and putting them all along a table save the tape. “Please undress as much as you’re comfortable with; your current clothing is a little too loose for good measurements.”

Link hesitated, feeling his face heat up self-consciously, and Vilia glanced over expectantly. When she saw him blushing, she chuckled, a sympathetic glimmer in her eyes.

“Sirwals, the pants I’m wearing, are very loose. I will only need close measurements from your waist and calves.”

Link smiled in relief, and discarded just his hood and his shirt, biting his cheek at the pull of sore muscles and his bandaged arm. Vilia’s smile disappeared, obvious even with just her eyes visible, and Link’s did too, looking down at himself anxiously.

Ah. His bruises had turned rather colorful in the hours and days since he’d gotten them, obvious even through the discoloration from the scarring. Just looking at them made him wince.

“I suppose that sword isn’t just for show,” Vilia said eventually, busying herself. “That’s quite an impressive set of muscles you have.”

Link turned pink again. Vilia laughed.

“See, this is why you are still allowed in Gerudo Town,” she said fondly, finally turning to start to measure him. “In many of the most important ways, you are still a child. Trust no one who comes onto you while you are there, little vin.”

Link hummed agreeably, starting to relax again, and a few minutes passed in quiet as Vilia stretched the measuring tape and made notes, taking special care around the bandage on his arm. When she reached Link’s hands, she paused, and despite himself he stiffened.

“Ah,” Vilia said softly, her hand gripping his wrist with a gentle, loose hold, examining the unmistakable mark of the goddess’ blessing. “I assume you want to keep this covered?”

Link nodded, feeling his face color with something closer to shame than embarrassment. When Vilia moved her hand, they both discovered that the skin underneath had been dyed a stained-glass burgundy. Vilia went still, and Link held his breath.

Vilia turned her hand over, examining where somewhat paler brushstrokes of green had been left on her fingers, and then looked back at his arm with new eyes, which he could see crinkle in another soft smile.

“I’m in good company, it seems,” she murmured, “but all the same, come see me again before you leave the desert. It is always a shame to lose such a connection.”

Link relaxed entirely, smiled at her, and nodded, moving just enough to sign, Promise.

Vilia promised Link she’d finish the clothes sometime the next day, so he left for the night and met his friends at the pool again, warmer and happier than he’d have thought possible that morning.

Revali noticed.

“I’ve never understood how someone can be so cheered up simply by spending a few hours meeting people,” he muttered, and without thinking, Link signed back,

Some people like talking to others, peacock.

Revali snorted. “Rich coming from you,” he scoffed, and Link faltered, read his expression, and relaxed, rolling his eyes.

(Rito couldn’t even use sign, their fingers markedly short of adequately dexterous for it. Link wondered when Revali had learnt it.)

Link sat down, kicking his feet into the water contentedly. He’d have to change the bandages on his arm soon, and his continuing nausea meant he’d be squirming out of supper tonight, but he found that despite everything he was now almost excited for the rest of his time in the desert. He turned to Urbosa.

Do you have any idea where the shrines in the area might be? he asked her.

She leaned back on her arms, sighed heavily, and then nodded. “I know of a few- some for certain, some that are only legends with the potential to be useful-”

It was almost like she’d prepared for this, or perhaps had done it before; she listed them off one by one, deceptively apathetic, and waited for Link to note each one down in his slate before moving on. Some of them, like the labyrinth, Link thought might be liable to take all day; others could be grouped in together. He made notes where he could, nodding along, and something about the interaction seemed to calm Urbosa.

The moon was high in the sky when Link finally checked into the inn, and he had to keep very quiet to avoid disturbing anyone. It wasn’t exactly a burden; Link was exhausted, heading pounding again, his body paying him back for his poor sleep the night before and the day’s harsh exertion, and he wanted to rest.

Unfortunately, his body had other ideas.

His mind refused to settle. Every position he tried to lay in aggravated a bruise or a scratch or the deep wound in his arm. He could hear every sound inside the inn and outside of it. He wanted to move, his exhaustion be damned. He wanted to open his eyes and check the door and the other beds. He wanted to check on Beedle and Vilia, to see what Vilia was going to do with the soft blue cloth he’d seen her rolling out.

Mipha sat beside him after a while, murmuring soft nonsense words, and Link tried his best to at least appear to settle for her sake. He found a position that didn’t hurt too much, forced his breath to deepen, and waited.

“There we are, easy does it, everything is okay, you’re safe here,” Mipha was murmuring, an endless stream of quiet reassurances that made it easier for Link to at least lay still even as they blended together.

He could heard animals scurrying outside, seals squawking, a few people pacing the bazaar and the water burbling softly-

“So, you seem to have had a mighty change of heart lately,” Daruk said casually, from somewhere partway across the inn. “Now, I don’t want to argue when a volcano decides to stop rumbling, but…”

Urbosa huffed, revealing who Daruk was speaking to. “Is it really so hard to believe I’ve just decided to have mercy on a friend? He marked me too, you know. I am not immune.”

“It was the Central Tower thing, wasn’t it?” Daruk said sympathetically, not fooled for a moment. “Hell of a show of devotion for someone he’s barely got a wisp of a memory of.”

There was a heavy, stifling silence, and finally, Urbosa gave in.

“I was… relieved to realize that he had not stopped caring for Zelda after all,” she muttered grudgingly. “He is, I must admit, doing the best he feels he can for now, and…” She sighed heavily. The next words sounded like they almost pained her to say. “It is clear that he feels nearly as much pain from his own inaction as I do. I… assume it was not a decision he made lightly.”

“That boy never makes a decision lightly,” Daruk said quietly. “Probably not even as a little pebble, I imagine. If nothing else, Urbosa, you can count on him returning when he promised. He said fall, he means fall.”

Urbosa grunted. “But I don’t know if Zelda will last that long,” she snapped, undeniably bitter. “Every goddess-damned wasted minute could be…” She cut herself off before her voice could raise too loud, quivering with feeling.

“She’s lasted this long,” Revali said unexpectedly. “And she knows help is coming. She will hold out… no matter the cost.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Mipha gradually transitioned from murmuring comforting words to humming a soothing, almost familiar melody that somehow melted the tension right out of Link, probably giving him right away, if Mipha had ever been deceived in the first place.

Eventually, without realizing it, Link fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Vilia had finished Link’s clothes by noon the next day, and spent close to twenty minutes cooing over how cute he looked after he changed into them. He spun around a couple times, marveling at how the silken cloth felt against his skin, and then clapped happily. He even hummed a bit, a little echo of Vilia’s voice.

“Now, if you go into Gerudo Town dressed like that, most of them will take your word for it,” Vilia warned, checking over the fit one last time. “Are you okay with that?”

It took Link a moment to understand her meaning, but then it clicked. He considered for a moment, and then hummed affirmatively, unbothered.

“That’s the spirit,” Vilia sighed happily. “Goodness, I wish there were more people like you… Go have fun, little vin, you’re going to love Gerudo Town.”

Link beamed at her, signed thank you a few more times, and then turned and darted out the door. The others were gathered at the side of the pool again, and Link skidded into place to gauge their reactions.

Mipha immediately blushed a faint pink, fingers rising to her lips as her eyes went wide. Urbosa raised her eyebrows, but nodded in absent approval. Revali scoffed quietly, looking as vaguely exasperated as he did with anything Link did.

Daruk grinned at him. “Cute as a fresh-cracked geode,” he assured Link warmly.

Link smiled, looking down at himself. The clothes were rather less than he was used to, but in the warm air it was almost comfortable save where the sun hit his scarring. Braided spun-gold thread adorned and accented nearly every part of the outfit, and little attachments like fingerless gloves at the end of his sleeves covered the backs of his hands.

When he looked back up, though, Mipha was frowning. Link’s smile fell.

“Take another elixir,” Mipha said before Link could ask what was wrong.

Right, bruises.

Seems like a waste, Link said dubiously, even as he twisted to look at one particularly dark bruise just peeking out from the sirwal. Then again, if he took another elixir it might ease his headache, and maybe he wouldn’t feel so tired.

“Elixirs are meant to be used,” Mipha reminded him gently. “And you’re never short on monster parts. Take it.”

Link swallowed an elixir down obediently, and shivered in relief as some of the bruising in his torso receded, magic rushing through his body in a tingling wave to speed the healing process. Some of his nausea settled, too, and though the headache didn’t, the dizziness did. Even his arm saw some healing, the faint ache turning into an itch, though it was difficult to say exactly how much without removing the bandage.

When he looked down, the bruising on his stomach and shoulders hadn’t disappeared, but it had faded from the stark purple splotches it had been before, almost blending in with the rough, raised skin around it.

“Revali and I’ll go scouting for shrines,” Daruk said, catching Link’s attention again. “Not a lot else we can do while you’re occupied in there, but no need for us to just hang around like louts.”

“Excuse me, I don’t believe I agreed to this,” Revali snapped at Daruk, ruffling his feathers in irritation.

“Anyway, Revali and I will go scouting for shrines,” Daruk repeated, the corner of his mouth twitching when Revali snarled at him.

Link smiled a little, nodding along. Thank you. I’ll try not to take too long.

Daruk grunted dismissively. “You’ve always liked Gerudo Town, damn near as much as you like Zora’s Domain. Don’t worry too much. It’ll do you good to take some time to heal up.”

Link wondered wistfully whether he could maybe go to Zora’s Domain next.

It took about two hours to get from Kara Kara to town, where two guards flanked the front gate on clear high alert. A glance over revealed that Urbosa looked pleased and proud, though she didn’t greet either of them, nor did they greet her.

Link discarded the thought.

Gerudo Town was the liveliest settlement he’d found so far, up to and including Kakariko Village. A few children ran around wild, and a few people roamed from market stall to market stall, buying fruit and rice and clothes. Bright-dyed cloth hung from walls and overhead lines. There were palm trees everywhere, and fountains, running clear and sparkling; in the distance Link could see a grand staircase leading up and away, flanked by waterfalls.

It was beautiful. It was also a little bit overwhelming.

“There should be a goddess statue by the west wall, if you’d like,” Urbosa said unexpectedly, without looking at him. Link glanced at Mipha, but for once, she wasn’t looking, instead gazing wistfully at all of the vendors.

Link twitched as if to go, and waved to catch Urbosa’s eye. I’m going to go… He gestured vaguely westward, and Urbosa’s brow furrowed before she looked at Mipha, snorted, and nodded.

“I’ll let her know where you went,” she allowed.

Link gratefully slipped off, climbing a staircase past a pen where someone was feeding a small collection of sand seals. The alley beyond that was quiet, another guard stationed just outside the archway, and it let some of the tension ease out of Link.

The goddess statue didn’t take much finding, but he faltered when he saw an old woman lounging next to it, contentedly reading a book. After a minute, though, she tilted her head up and met his eyes, and with a knowing smile, gestured at the statue.

Needing no further invitation, Link knelt in front of the statue, set his hands on his knees, and exhaled softly.

He prayed.

O sworn goddess of love and light, I pray to thee, thine loyal knight; that thou might see the proof I’ve brought, that I have learned the lessons that thou taught; and grant the strength to do thine will, so I may live to serve thee still.

It will be granted, the goddess murmured back, and Link’s breath hitched as the handful of spheres humming in his chest sublimated, sending a gentle wave of magic washing over him. He shivered, feeling just a little more of the weakness and exhaustion ease out of him. Go, and bring peace to Hyrule.

Link eased back onto his heels, and finally looked at the old woman, who had gone back to reading while he’d been preoccupied. She chuckled and snapped her book shut, turning to him with eyes light with amusement at an untold joke.

“Not often we get Hylians around here, and even less that they still believe,” she said conversationally, orienting herself towards Link. “What brings you here, little vin?”

Link shrugged, going to fumble with the Sheikah Slate for a minute before he finally managed to answer, “I’m an adventurer, I like to meet people.”

The woman chuckled softly, tilting her head as if to examine Link better. “Name’s Muava. I don’t get along well with others, so I pass time here, keeping the goddess statue company.” She nodded at it. “That’s an interesting device you have there. Sheikah make?” Link nodded. “Is it just a voice for you, or does it have other neat tricks too?”

Link smiled a little and scooted closer, subconsciously tucking himself up against the goddess statue. He navigated through the slate’s interface for a moment, and then released two honeyed apples he’d put away some time ago, in neat little wood bowls. One of these, he offered to Muava, who laughed out loud before accepting.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said with pleasure, starting to tuck in, careless of how sticky it made her fingers. “The Sheikah are a clever people. Shame most don’t so much see it that way these days. You already been around or did you beeline for the goddess statue?” Link leaned his head into the statue. “Really? Don’t tell me you came all the way to Gerudo Town to pray.”

Link reluctantly cleaned the honey off his fingers to flick through again. There was something that looked useful under ‘self’, which went into more detail than did ‘introductions’. He tapped hesitantly on ‘overwhelmed’.

“I’m feeling overwhelmed at the moment. During times like these I prefer places that are quiet and still, so I would appreciate help getting somewhere safe. It is difficult to absorb complex sentences right now, but I promise I will calm down within a few hours.”

Zelda’s voice was even hushed, as if in deference to Link’s assumed state. Link thought of the cave on Mount Hylia, of hiding in the well after tackling Central Tower, and made a mental note even as he winced and shook his head at Muava, apologetic.

Muava laughed again, grating and raucous. “Still getting used to it, huh? That’s alright, I get the idea. Should calm down once the sun sets; you can stick around here until then.”

Link gave her a small smile, flicked back to ‘introductions’, and asked, “Do you have any interesting stories about the area?”

Muava grinned at him, a few of her teeth gone crooked with age. “Oh, do I, little vin.”

For all her claims of not getting along with others, Muava seemed happy to talk for the next few hours as the sun slowly dipped in the sky. She told Link first about the current chief, a young girl called Riju who had been recently crowned, and then the previous one, Callipe, who had been the Gerudo Champion’s sister and a good friend of Muava’s.

Muava got distracted then, talking about her own journeys outside the city – mostly, she told him, in the rainy forests of Faron – and the stories she’d used to bring back for Callipe, bound to the city by duty.

“I saw a dragon there once,” she recalled wistfully, the honeyed apple long finished off and fingers still sticky. “A massive storm-serpent flying through the air more gracefully than any bird. I may not have found Lover’s Pond, but I could never consider those years wasted. It’s only a shame I’m too old to travel now.”

At some point Urbosa and Mipha returned from the square, though Muava was so caught up in her story that she didn’t notice. Urbosa sat down across from them with a sigh, and Mipha a little closer, listening along with a small, warm smile.

“But back to Gerudo Town,” Muava said suddenly, waving one hand and then finally licking the residual honey off her fingers. “There’s a club around here you might be interested in.” Link cocked an eyebrow at her, and she chuckled. “Not that kind of club, though we have one or two of those too. Won’t serve you a drink, mind you, but maybe when you’re older.” She winked. “There’s the secret club run out of the south side of Fashion Passion. Password’s GSC-diamond, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

Link crossed his heart with a solemn smile, and then signed thank you without thinking, already wondering what he’d find in there when he looked. Muava grinned at him.

“You’ve got a familiar face, little vin,” she murmured. “I wonder why.” Link faltered, and she waved a hand dismissively. “Enough about me. If you’re an adventurer yourself, you must have some interesting stories. Care to share?”

Link hesitated, considering, and then opened up his Sheikah Slate and flipped to the notes he’d been taking, a small item-by-item record of nearly everything he’d done so far. Not much, not yet, but he was pleased with what he had, and he scooted over to show Muava, who leaned over obligingly. Mipha leaned over too, visibly curious, and let out a soft oh as her eyes landed on the screen.

“I hadn’t realized…” Mipha didn’t finish her thought, trailing off as she took in the writing all down the page, like a rather more organized diary.

Muava hummed as well, leaning a little closer, and chuckled. “Nothing too small to make note of, eh, vin?” She tapped the brief account of his encounters with Koko, one after the other, though he’d left out the conversation in the graveyard. “Looks like you haven’t been around much just yet.”

Link shook his head, flicking back to the communication rune to explain, “Two weeks’ journey.” He added a so-so motion with his hand – it had been a few days more than that, he was pretty sure.

“Ah, just starting out!” Muava exclaimed, loud enough to make Link jump. She grinned at him with only a hint of apology. “Looking for anything in particular as you go?”

Link hesitated, glancing uncomfortably away, and then shook his head before he could think too closely about it. His stomach turned briefly, and he sighed and looked up at the darkening sky.

“Is it that time already?” Muava mused, and then waved him off. “Go enjoy the town, little vin. It should have calmed down by now.”

Urbosa nodded at Link when he glanced over, so with a quick thank-you, he stood and picked his way towards the square again, taking a detour down the side street Muava had referenced before, with the club. Sure enough, one of the doors had a little, inconspicuous diamond sign beside it.

In the plaza, there were only a few people still milling about – a Goron woman marveling at one of the springs, a Hylian flitting from vendor to vendor, taking notes in a little book, a Rito negotiating with the amused-looking meat vendor. The goods laid out on the carpets had clearly been well picked-over, and the sellers lounged under their sun shades, looking satisfied.

“There’s an arrow dealer over that way,” Mipha said with unexpected enthusiasm, gesturing across the plaza. “The inn’s close to them, with a few cooking pots on the other side of the plaza, and there’s an enchanted jewelry shop just across the way, by the fruit vendor-”

Link was still looking at her, and she trailed off with some visible embarrassment.

“I haven’t been to Gerudo Town before,” she admitted. “The desert isn’t really good for Zora. It’s quite pretty.”

“I always knew you’d like it,” Urbosa informed her, amused. “It’s just a shame we didn’t get the chance before.”

Link ducked his head away from Mipha, reaching up to tug at one ear uncomfortably. Before he could be forced to come up with a reply, he nodded to the ground and went to trade for some hydromelons.

He made his way through three stalls before he reached the arrow dealer, who made a soft shushing motion before waving to her wares. Link glanced past her to the two children fast asleep under the shade, and nodded before kneeling in front of the display.

If you know sign, this will be easier, he offered. She raised her eyebrows.

Many of the old guard know it, she replied after a moment, crisp and practiced. Are you here to buy or do you have wares to sell?

Link had a little money by now, but not as much as he’d like. He glanced wistfully at the arrows, flicked through his slate, and said, I don’t suppose you buy monster parts or gems.

The Gerudo had to quickly stifle a snort, glancing at the nearer child to make sure they hadn’t woken. Not in large quantities, but the doctor will pay good coin for quality ingredients, and the jeweler is always in need of materials. I take it you’re an adventurer?

Link nodded absently, still flicking through. Just a few for now, then, and I’ll come back later. Ten amber for your stock of regular and ice arrows?

A sound trade, little vai, the dealer agreed, and they made the exchange in silence.

Link stood and turned away, just realizing that Mipha and Urbosa had drifted away from him. He frowned, glancing back and forth, and found them both close to the grand staircase, focused on something at the top. When he followed them, Urbosa signed discretion and then gestured upward. Link tilted his head to listen.

“I am begging you, he has no other chance,” a woman was pleading, voice rough with emotion and scratchy with use. There was a sigh.

“We are eternally short on ingredients, Malena,” another voice said, not unsympathetically. “If the guard could afford to be constantly hunting monsters, we would be. But with the Yiga so active of late, no one can be spared. I’m sorry.”

“Isn’t there anything that can be done?” Malena tried, thin and helpless.

“No,” the guard said firmly. “You’ll do no good trying yourself. Molduga are best fought by experienced warriors only.” A pause, and then, more gently, “It’s late, Malena. Go to the inn, rest, and return to your voe tomorrow.”

“No,” Malena said, steely-tight. “Tomorrow I shall try again.”

Link made no sign that he had heard anything as someone stormed down the steps and swept past, though he caught sight of shoulders shaking on the verge of tears. He turned to Urbosa, the more likely to know, and asked, Molduga?

Urbosa snorted softly, not looking surprised in the least. She even looked very briefly fond.

“A monster sensitive to vibrations,” she supplied. “Travels mainly underground, around twice the size of a hinox… Not a difficult fight, but dangerous to the unprepared.” She paused, measuring him, and then tacked on, “There’s one west of Gerudo Town, maybe a few hours away.”

Link nodded, glancing in that direction, and Mipha intercepted him immediately. “Not tonight, Link. You look exhausted. You heard her; Malena will still be here tomorrow.”

Link sighed, but conceded reluctantly. He contemplated the inn for a long moment, but a growl of his stomach made the choice for him, and he headed for the cooking pots first.

Some stamina-restorative food would do him good. It felt like he’d been lagging harder and harder the last few days, and some honey might be easier to get down than anything heavy.

Link got halfway through the process of stretching in the morning before Mipha was frowning at him. He cocked his head, bare with the veil and headdress still set aside, and then twisted to try and coax his shoulders into loosening.

“I’m going to tell Revali and Daruk to meet us near the western entrance,” she said after a beat. “Stay here until I get back, and eat something hearty. You look awful, Link. Are you sure you don’t want to wait a day or two?”

Link twisted the other way, clenching his jaw through the stretch, and nodded. Everything in him railed against the idea of remaining idle, and the sooner he handled this, the better.

Mipha sighed, but there was a clear note of fond worry in her voice when she said, “Entirely too reckless. Urbosa, please, make sure he eats.”

Urbosa snorted. “You’re worse than a mother hen, Mipha. Yes, I’ll make sure.”

True to her word, Urbosa barely waited for Link to finish stretching and change his bandages before bullying him into eating. To appease her, Link went to the cooking pots and tossed some chickaloo nuts and some acorns in with a trickle of honey, letting them roast for a bit.

Urbosa shook her head at him. You’re going to regret that later, she warned.

Link doubted it. He probably couldn’t get much else down but an elixir yet. Maybe in a few hours, if his headache finally eased.

At least change before you leave town, Urbosa said firmly. You cannot fight a molduga in that outfit, and trust me, you don’t want to change in the desert. Her frown deepened. Especially not with as many sandstorms as there seem to be right now.

Link winced, but nodded reluctantly. At the inn, he changed from the Gerudo clothing back into his familiar hood and tunic, grimacing at the pull of the healing wound on his arm. When he looked over, Urbosa was frowning again. He raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head sharply. That won’t do. Visit the jewelry shop before you leave. At his look, she clarified, Starlight Memories specializes in enchanted accessories. One of them should help you cope with the heat of the desert. You’ll overheat in what you’re wearing now.

Link’s mouth formed a silent oh, and he nodded, tugging his hood up despite himself. He hesitated. Should I change back?

Only if you want to, but remember that Gerudo Town is well-guarded. Urbosa’s mouth quirked in a faint smile. Though by this point you’ve well established yourself as a vai here. I doubt that will change even if you go out as you are now.

The thought made Link smile a little, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. I don’t mind. Starlight Memories?

It should be just across the street, Urbosa said, and the fondness was back in her expression, soft and amused. Link liked the look on her.

This early in the morning, the population of the plaza was even more sparse than it had been the previous evening, which was a relief. He looked around until he saw a door just cracked open, with a gracefully decorated sign over it. Another Hylian sat on the steps just outside, staring wistfully through the window.

Link knocked twice on the door and then went inside, trying not to feel jumpy in his regular clothes.

There was only one person in the shop, a Gerudo woman scrubbing her hand over her forehead at a desk, and though each display case was labeled, they were all empty. He hesitated, concerned, and didn’t go the rest of the way in until Urbosa made an impatient sound at him.

The woman, presumably the owner, looked up as the door’s bell chimed gently, her face crinkled deeply with stress lines even as she sat up to brace herself.

“Sav’otta,” she said shortly, looking less than pleased to see him. “If you’re here for jewelry, you can leave. It would be wasting both our time.”

Link’s brow furrowed, puzzled, and Urbosa made the connection first, turning her head to look at the empty displays.

“Supply issues,” she said grimly, and then, to Link, “She’s too young to be old guard, but you’ve spent enough time mining that you may be able to help her.” She gestured meaningfully to Link’s slate, impatience in the flick of her fingers, and he resisted the urge to make a face at her as he reached for it.

“What on earth are you doing?” the woman grumbled, propping her head against one hand as she watched him tap through the slate. Link bit his cheek, forcing his hands to steady.

“Do you need help?” he asked at last.

The woman stared at him for a moment, and Urbosa made a silent gesture to Link and left. He faltered, wanting to go after her, and stopped himself. She’d probably gone to wait for Mipha. He thought she probably disliked being so idle.

His stomach turned, and he refocused on the woman as she sighed heavily.

“I suppose it can’t hurt,” she mumbled, and then pushed herself up again. “I’ve started to run too low on supplies to stock wares. Flint, mainly – it’s usually easy enough to get, but these days…” She shrugged, grimacing. “It’s gotten bad enough I’d need a solid boost just to start selling again.”

“How much?” Link asked. The woman visibly paused, head tilting up to focus on him with suddenly sharp eyes.

“…Ten would do for now,” she said at last. “Large chunks, mind, not the little ones that always go flying.”

Link smiled reassuringly, and then, without hesitation, counted fifteen flint shards out of his slate and set them on the table. The jeweler looked from the flint, to him, and then back, as if unable to believe her eyes, struck silent.

“…Sarqso?” she said at last, disbelievingly. Then she shook herself, pushing her hair out of her eyes. “No, I can’t take these with just a ‘sarqso’, we’ve only just met. You did come here for jewelry, yes? I still have a little stock. Pick a piece, anything short of the diamond circlet. First one’s a gift, little vin.”

Link grinned at her, quick and pleased, and without even looking over, took a few minutes to tap out carefully, “I’m going to. The desert. Can I have? Sapphire.”

It visibly took the jeweler a few seconds to put that one together, but after a beat, she gave him a small smile and a nod. “A practical choice.” She looked him up and down for a moment, visibly considered, and then said, “I don’t typically work in a more masculine style, but if you would prefer…”

Link was already shaking his head before she finished speaking, and she chuckled.

“Ah, so that’s how it is. Give me just a minute, I’ll get one from storage and we’ll get it fitted.”

Urbosa returned with Mipha in tow while that was getting done, Link’s hood reluctantly dropped around his shoulders while Isha, as she’d introduced herself, tweaked the metal gently to and fro. Link was squirming by the third time she took it off him again, discomfited by the back-and-forth of the sapphire’s cooling effect over his fever-flushed face, and she clucked at him sympathetically.

“Almost done,” she promised distractedly, and over her shoulder, Link shot the other two a faint grimace. Mipha didn’t even notice, making eyes at the circlet on his head, and he had to keep it from easing into an amused grin. “Okay, how does that feel?”

Isha stepped back to look at him, and Link obediently tipped his head one way, then the other, getting used to the faint press of the circlet. The sapphires were already working, sending a wonderful ripple of cool air down his face and ears and all the way to his neck, which felt amazing against his hot skin. Finally, he gave Isha a smile and a nod, and she grinned back, looking relaxed for the first time since he’d come in.

“Consider that sarqso, then,” she said with clear satisfaction. She started to turn away, and Link started forward, then back – a small motion, but just enough to catch her attention. “Hm? Does the fit still need adjustment after all?”

Link shook his head, and gave the other two an apologetic glance before he went for his slate again. Mipha chuckled softly and nudged Urbosa, who rolled her eyes but went to sit with her on the steps, waiting.

“I have materials to trade,” he explained, and Isha’s eyebrows rose.

“You must have spent a decent span of time mining. Very well, let’s talk. It will be good to have an influx of materials again.”

It took close to another forty-five minutes, but eventually the two of them negotiated an agreement: every one of the gems that Link had with him – a respectable number, after two taluses and around three days of mining – for one of each of the remaining items except the diamond circlet, plus a couple hundred rupees.

Link gave the diamond circlet she’d put back on display a longing look he couldn’t quite hide, and Isha chuckled.

“Some of my finest work, yes, and a very old magic. It’s just a shame diamonds are so rare.”

Link had one diamond, from the shrine near Central Tower. The old man at Gerudo Valley Stable had promised him another for fifty-five rushrooms. He wondered anxiously if he could scrounge up another somewhere.

He would really like to have a layer of protection from guardians.

“I’ll tell you what,” Isha said, when he didn’t answer right away. “You keep this diamond, I keep the rupees, and you can come back another time if you come up with more.” Link nodded without hesitation, and she traded back with a faintly wistful look of her own. “It’ll take a few days to finish everything. Maybe a week.” Link nodded, and Isha smiled, leaning back with a sigh. “Pleasure doing business with you, little vin. Sav’orq.”

Link raised a hand in farewell, stretched with a wince as he stood, and forced himself not to sway under the head rush. Then he was out the door, satisfied with the exchange, and found Urbosa and Mipha chatting absently in sign just outside. He couldn’t help but smile, just a little, and tugged his hood up over his ears, leaving just the front gem of the circlet exposed.

“I think Revali might have a word or two for you for the wait,” Mipha said wryly when she saw him, lowering her hands. “But that looks lovely, Link. Does it work well?”

Link nodded, pleased, and tilted his head towards the western entrance. When Mipha nodded, gesturing for him to go on, he turned.

Urbosa moved with inhuman speed, going from right next to Mipha to an inch in front of him, looming and too damn close.

He flinched back, stumbling a little as he forced down the urge to lash out defensively, and felt his stomach turn and his head throb under the surge of adrenaline. Urbosa just cocked an eyebrow at him expectantly.

Link swallowed, pushed past her, and didn’t grace her with a response.

“That was rude, Urbosa,” Mipha murmured behind him.

“Just seeing how far I can push,” she replied, with only a thin veneer of carelessness. Then, softer, “He can’t hide forever, you know.”

Mipha didn’t reply.

Revali did, in fact, have a few words for Link – enough to keep him going for almost ten minutes out into the desert before it died off into grumbles.

“I found that fairy you were looking for, by the way, owing exclusively to my quite astounding ability to successively navigate sandstorms, which I would have you know is even harder in the air than on foot,” he bit out, finally attracting Link’s attention. “It’s quite deep in the southwestern desert, with a shrine right by it. So you can for once make yourself useful in more than a single way.”

Link ruefully ruffled the edge of his hood and signed a quick thank you anyway, chuckling softly at the way Revali just huffed and looked away, still grumbling.

“We found a good few shrines for you to take a look at,” Daruk added cheerfully, bringing up his hands behind his head as he grinned at Link. “Later today if you’ve got the time, tomorrow if ya don’t.” He hummed. “Might start looking at the highlands in a couple days, if you’re planning on being a while. Are ya?”

Link felt tired just thinking about it, but he nodded. I think there’s a tower around there too. I should get that.

“Now that shouldn’t be hard to find, at least,” Daruk said cheerfully, and Revali grumbled something about unpaid labor.

Link nodded mechanically, then glanced at Urbosa, who cocked an eyebrow. What can you tell me about moldugas?

A now-familiar shadow flickered across Urbosa’s face, and she glanced away for a split second before returning her gaze to Link. She nodded. “As I mentioned before, they sense vibrations in the sand. A single strike from a molduga can kill even an armored soldier, so you will need to use decoys. Gerudo soldiers often use voltfruit or hydromelons-”

As he listened, Link reached up to ruffle his hood again. The sapphire circlet was working well, but he still felt pretty hot, and his skin stung all the way down to the bone, unused to the desert air.

Chapter Text

Urbosa was correct; the fight with the molduga, while arduous, drawn out, and a little supply-intensive, was not particularly tricky.

It probably would have been more efficient to swing a two-handed weapon into its belly, but Link wasn’t nearly confident enough in his body to try that yet. A mixture of bombs and arrows did the trick instead, a hundred wounds that soaked the sand in monster blood until the beast rolled over with a final groan and a sigh.

Mipha exhaled in relief, and Daruk hopped over to examine it, nodded decisively, and waved Link over.

“Well done, brother,” he said kindly, stepping back while Link fumbled for his knife. “Molduga are fins and brains, right, Mipha?”

“Fins and a gland in their head that is not their brain,” Mipha corrected ruefully, and then, to Link, “Get the fins and then I’ll show you where to find the right organs. There should be three or four.”

Link nodded and got to work, jaw clenched against a growing headache, and kept his movements precise as he sliced off each fin in turn, and then into the temples where Mipha directed him. The exertion of the fight and the butchering had reopened his arm again, he could feel, and it burned, and the skin of his stomach and chest and shoulders stretched and ached too.

It was approaching the hottest part of the afternoon by the time he finished, and he wanted nothing more than to head back. But a glance around told him he wasn’t done yet.

I should light the torches, he signed clumsily, sitting back with a wince. He had to repress the urge to reach up and rub his face; he didn’t want monster blood all over him.

“…Sorry, can you repeat that?” Mipha asked slowly, with obvious concern. Link grimaced and forced his hands to steady.

I think this is a shrine. It has the setup of one. Let me light the torches and we’ll see what happens.

In explanation, he pointed off in the distance, about twenty minute’s jog away; two lit torches stood ready, out of place in the empty stretch of desert. And suspicious torches meant puzzles.

…Why did suspicious torches mean puzzles?

He shook himself off, winced at the scrape of cloth over skin, and grabbed his fire arrows, which would be quicker and easier than going to the lit torches over yonder way. It still took several minutes, and he missed the looks his friends exchanged behind his back as his shaking hands misfired, but when he had them, he was rewarded with a shrine.

“Well done, little fella,” Daruk murmured. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow for this one? You look like you could use a break.”

Link forgot about the monster blood, rubbed at his face, and shook his head. Without further acknowledgement, he walked into the shrine, disappearing inside wearily.

As soon as he was in the shrine, though, he sat down hard, feeling his head spin. Gulped down a couple of breaths, and rubbed at his face again. For a minute, he struggled not to vomit, and then to remember what he was doing. He lifted his head.

There was no puzzle in the shrine, just a treasure chest and a monk waiting in stasis at the end of the walkway. He blinked blearily, and then pushed himself up onto unsteady feet, going first to the treasure chest. The bow went into his slate, and he looked up to meet the eyes of Tho Kayu, staring eerie-calm back at him.

Tho Kayu beckoned. Link rose to his feet again, crossed over, and touched the stasis cube to shatter it. The monk nodded.

“You have done well to arrive at this shrine,” Tho Kayu rasped, their voice throaty and faintly doubled, indistinguishable from every other monk Link had met. “A hero rises to right the wrongs of Hyrule.” A deep and wheezing breath, and then a sigh as if of relief. “In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I bestow upon you this spirit orb.”

They held out their hand, and magic collected in their palm, forming a shining sphere for a split second before it shot into Link’s chest to hum comfortingly. He took a deep breath of his own, shivering.

“May the Goddess smile upon you,” the monk said with finality, and then dissolved away into the air like all the others.

Link sighed heavily, staring at the pedestal for a long moment. He wondered how many more monks there were, waiting for him to find them. If any of them expected him to fail.

He gave the pedestal a shallow bow of respect, and then turned and left.

The desert afternoon really was hot; it was starting to make his headache almost unbearable, a pounding band around his head that threatened to bring up bile. His skin burned where the scarring weakened it. He lifted a hand to the circlet, making sure it was still there, and absently dropped his hood. Maybe that would help.

“Put that back up,” Urbosa said sharply, as soon as he’d done that. “It’s the only thing between you and the sun.”

Link put the hood back up. Mipha was studying him.

“You don’t look well, Link,” she said bluntly, clear concern in her voice. “Let’s hurry back to the city. I think you may be done for the day. You are still recovering.”

Link hissed irritably at the ground, but didn’t argue. His head was spinning persistently, and that probably wasn’t a good sign. Anyway, he needed to get the molduga innards to Malena. She would probably be relieved.

“This way,” Mipha corrected him, when he started walking, and urged him on a slightly different path. Link followed blindly, stumbling a little in the slippery sand when pain flashed up and down his left knee. “Link? Are you alright?”

His ears rang, almost blocking out Mipha’s voice. And was it getting dark?

“Yeah, you don’t look so-” Daruk started, and Link passed out before he could finish.

He woke up what felt like seconds later, maybe minutes at most, to the feeling of tingles scattered across his face and tiny fingers on his forehead. He whined softly and forced his eyes open, looking up, and the fairy in front of his face gave him a soft smile and a kiss on the nose before darting away.

“Link,” he could hear Urbosa saying in the distance, voice sharp. “Look at me, can you hear me? I need to know if you can hear me.”

Link barely managed a short nod before he rolled over, pushed himself onto one elbow, and retched weakly. Very little came up except bile, sour and painful, leaving him panting, struggling to catch his breath in the hot air.

“Heatstroke,” Urbosa said grimly, and then Mipha took over, kneeling beside Link.

“Everything is okay, Link, just listen,” she said soothingly. “Can you look at me?” Link tried, but his eyes struggled to focus, going in and out as his head spun. He let out the softest whine of frustration, barely audible. “Okay, that’s good, thank you. Sit up, please. Take your time.”

Mipha kept her voice low and calming, and Link found himself complying before he could think twice. Pushed himself upright in the sand, fingers sinking into the grain, and coughed a few times, breath threatening to wheeze.

I can’t breathe, he signed sloppily, without looking at anyone. His chest was tight; the hot air felt thin.

“You’re okay,” Mipha said firmly, nodding along to whatever Urbosa was murmuring in her ear. “Back up a little into the shrine, that will offer you some shade. Take your waterskin out when you’re ready.”

Link clapped a hand over his mouth, biting it against the wave of nausea that accompanied another of dizziness, but nodded anyway. He sat there for a few minutes, nodded again, and, painfully slow, pushed himself backward, two yards back into the shrine. His arms shook under him.

Revali had gone to keep watch at the cliff, giving Link the appearance of privacy; Urbosa watched the desert from just barely within sight. Daruk was still watching, forehead wrinkled with clear worry, and Link wished he would look away.

He couldn’t believe he’d fainted. What an embarrassment.

His breath caught around another retch, and without meaning to, he gave Mipha a pleading look. Her focused expression softened.

“Water, Link,” she reminded gently, and Link fumbled with the slate until he could finally get it out. “That’s it. Now drink, it’ll help you cool down. There you go. Now the chu jelly from Mount Hylia, it should help act as a cold pack-”

Within ten minutes, Link had finally stopped feeling quite so awful, his breath evening out and the cool air from the circlet curling around his face and neck again. He listed against the side of the shrine, still exhausted from the whole ordeal and trying to hide how humiliated the whole thing made him feel.

From the sympathetic look on Mipha’s face, he wasn’t exactly succeeding.

“That’s good, keep drinking,” Mipha said firmly, legs crossed in front of him. Helplessly, Link swung a little more back, spilling some. He shook himself with a low sound of protest. “That’s fine, Link. We’re not far from town, we just need to cool you down a little. Are you dizzy?” Link nodded without looking at her. “Nauseous?” Nod. “Achy?” Nod. Mipha exhaled. “I wish you’d said something. How long?”

Link took a few more drinks of water to avoid answering, but when Mipha didn’t look away, he finally admitted, hands trembling despite his best efforts, Days. Sorry.

Goddess, he hurt.

Mipha’s breath hitched, but she held up admirably well under the confession. “Maybe a little overexertion too then. Your body must still be recovering.”

Sorry, Link repeated. He wiped his mouth and then sank his fingers into the chu jelly in his lap, kneading it gently and relishing in the cool relief. He pressed a little to his burning cheek and huffed.

“I may have underestimated your personal discipline,” Urbosa muttered, and Revali snorted loudly. “If you had even an inkling that this was the case, Revali…”

“Of course I did,” Revali snapped caustically. “His limits remain so small at the moment that I’m shocked that he hasn’t collapsed sooner. And he has been unusually productive as of late, if such a term can be applied to his recent activities.”

“Happens to the best of us, little brother,” Daruk said encouragingly, motioning for Link to drink again. He obeyed. “You did a pretty great job taking the molduga, especially if you were really feeling that bad. Sturdy as a mountain.”

Link almost smiled, turning his head to press his cheek against the shrine wall. Whatever material it was made of didn’t seem to conduct heat well, so it was cool even in the hottest part of the day.

Need to take the molduga guts back, he managed eventually, unable to meet anyone’s eyes. He started to stand and clenched his jaw as he felt his head spin unpleasantly. His legs gave out under him, forcing him back to the ground.

“Take a few more minutes,” Mipha said, more an order than a suggestion. “We’re a few hours into the desert, and it’s afternoon. There was a small oasis on the way here where you can take a break, but we need to be sure you can make it there.”

…OK, Link conceded, and ducked his head, curling around the chu jelly, willing it to work faster. Sorry.

“It’s alright, Link. You’re doing great.” Mipha even sounded like she believed it.

Link pulled his hood further up and did his best to hide in it.

It was nearly nightfall before they bid Daruk and Revali farewell just outside Gerudo Town, and Link had to stop himself from jumping harshly when the gate guard immediately grabbed for his wrist, fingers wrapping around his pulse and scowling into his eyes.

“Heat exhaustion,” she said flatly. “Quite severe – I’m surprised you made it back here. Did you faint in the desert?” Link nodded, eyes wide and intimidated. She scowled harder. “Go see the doctor. Zayla. Do you know the way?”

Link glanced at Urbosa, who shook her head. He did the same, wincing as it made his head pound. The guard gave a put-upon sigh, and he shrank a little, mortified and still distinctly lightheaded.

“Is there a parent or mentor with you?” Link shook his head, biting his cheek painfully. “Of course not. Kohm!”

Link started, and movement soon drew his attention to the door, where another Gerudo poked her head out and cocked an expectant eyebrow. The guard nodded at him.

“Could you take this vin to the infirmary? It seems she wasn’t quite prepared for the heat of the desert, and her pulse is a touch weak.” To Link, she added, “You haven’t spoken. Can you?”

Link shook his head again, almost helplessly confused. She looked back at Kohm, who preempted her. “I’ll stay with her.”

Link looked at Mipha pleadingly, but she crossed her arms, looking unamused, and he gave in, allowing himself to be led down the streets. The guard returned to her post, and Kohm didn’t do more than shift her grip from his hand to his sleeve when she noticed his discomfort.

“That sapphire circlet should have protected you from heat exhaustion unless you went very far into the desert,” Kohm mused, glancing back at him as she steered them towards the plaza without even looking. “Isha’s craftsmanship is superb. Were you already ill?” Link shrugged. Kohm snorted. “Yes, that would do it, you silly little vin. Whoa!” She caught Link as he stumbled, his knees threatening to give out under him and swallowing down bile again. “Easy, little vin, let’s slow down. Breathe, let the nausea pass.”

He nodded, forcing himself to bite it down. Deep breaths, and after a minute he nodded again, and they kept going. Mipha’s worried gaze burned into his back, and she had to keep stopping herself from reaching for him.

The infirmary turned out to be almost right beside the communal cooking pots, and Kohm called out as soon as they entered – after a moment, he realized it had been entirely in Gerudo, but whatever she said brought the doctor out of the next room over immediately.

Zayla was an older woman, like Muava, face lined with age and pinched with worry. She looked him over quickly, head to toe, and gestured for him to sit on one of the nearby beds – or, apparently, for Kohm to push him onto one of the beds, making him huff and wince a little. Still, it was more of a relief than he’d expected to be off his feet.

Kohm said a few more things to Zayla in rapid Gerudo, who replied in kind and looked at Link.

Can you use sign? she asked him, and he nodded instantly. Zayla nodded back, looked at Kohm, and said a little more, and Kohm gave them both a nod and Link a faint, reassuring smile before she left. Zayla turned to Link. What is your name?

It took a few fumbling tries, his hands refusing to cooperate, but finally, he managed, Link.

Kohm tells me you were sick before you went into the desert. How long? Her expression was weary but focused, and she kept herself oriented to face him even as she went to a few different tables, gathering things.

A few days, he admitted, and Mipha made a soft sound that drew his attention.

“Your recovery too, Link,” she said quietly, with a healer’s focus. Urbosa glanced away, leaning against the infirmary wall, lips pressed together. Link sighed, an odd feeling of defeat swooping over him, but he nodded.

And I’m still recovering from an injury that had me… bedbound, for a while, he admitted reluctantly, following Mipha’s subtle guidance, slow and deliberate so he didn’t fumble. His stomach roiled. Something itched at the back of his brain, insisting something wasn’t right. I’ve only been walking around for a few weeks.

Zayla clicked her tongue. What possessed you to go out in the desert in such a state? she scolded, not seeming to really expect an answer as she picked a few things out of her lineup – two little balls of bound white chu jelly, a small bowl of what seemed to be chilled simmered hydromelons, a large skin of water.

Link perked up, though, eyes going wide. He fumbled for his Sheikah Slate, making Zayla raise a disapproving eyebrow at him, but it disappeared into open surprise as he released one of the molduga organs from inside and into his lap.

For M-a-l-e-n-a, he explained.

Zayla remained silent for a few long moments, only just remembering to go through the motions of placing the bowl and waterskin on the table beside him and the chu jelly in his lap. She picked up the organ and weighed it in her hand, and finally murmured, rasping and unexpectedly hopeful, “Molduga tend to have three or four of these apiece. Dare I hope…?”

Link nodded, then clenched his jaw against another wave of dizziness, his stomach clenching. A hurt sound slipped out of his mouth, his carefully controlled breathing hitched despite his best efforts.

Zayla visibly shook herself, setting the molduga organ back down with care. “Heatstroke, yes,” she murmured, and then, in sign, Eat that bowl of fruit, it should help, and drink that entire waterskin before you go to sleep- yes, I expect you to go to sleep here. From what you told me, you need food and rest. I would prefer you to stay until any nausea and dizziness have both eased.

Sorry for the trouble, Link apologized, shamefaced. Zayla waved dismissively.

You aren’t the first Hylian or vin to overstretch themselves while visiting, and you won’t be the last. Eat. She paused, tilting her head as she suddenly focused on his arm, and added, If you can eat with one hand, I’ll change your bandages as well.

Link shot Mipha a pleading look, but she just sat beside him and gestured, so Link picked up the bowl and frowned at it. He liked simmered fruit – it was generally easy to eat even when he wasn’t hungry, sweet and soft – but at the moment nothing had looked less appetizing.

“Just a little at a time, Link,” Mipha encouraged, leaning a little closer. “You’ll feel better once you have a few bites in you, and then you can take a few bites more later.”

Link took a bite, spoon in his slightly shaking left hand as Zayla worried over his right. He decided hydromelon, while not horrible, was not his favorite. Mipha laughed quietly at his expression.

“Come on, Link, it’s not that bad. You’re just not feeling well. Can you take another bite for me?”

Link did, holding himself stiff so as not to disturb Zayla’s work, and like that, got through the entire bowl, though it took close to half an hour and most of the skin of water. By the end, though, he at least wasn’t feeling so feverish, and Zayla had finished without comment and busied herself elsewhere.

“Go to sleep, Link,” Urbosa said unexpectedly, appearing behind Mipha. Her expression was softer than normal, somewhere between pensive and understanding. “The desert will still be there in the morning.”

But what about Malena? Link protested, glancing at the organ still on the side table. On a thought, he reached for it and put it back into his slate, preserving it.

“I have no doubt she will be informed soon,” Urbosa answered. “And your recovery will be quicker if you rest adequately.”

Link made a discontented sound, but laid down anyway, squirming under the covers and then pulling up his arm to sigh into the crook of his elbow.

Still at the foot of the bed, Mipha started to hum.

Chapter Text

Though Link spent most of the night drifting in and out of consciousness, waking at almost any small sound that wasn’t Mipha’s gentle melody, he didn’t properly rise until late the next morning. His body still felt heavy, his mind fogged up, but his persistent headache had reduced a little and his nausea was almost gone.

Zayla was there almost as soon as he finished sitting up, forcing another bowl of simmered fruit into his hands. Durians this time, he thought.

Eat this before you go anywhere, she ordered him. And don’t go outside the city walls. The fountains keep Gerudo Town cool.

Link thought about the shrine just outside the front gates of the city. What about just a little?

No! she said crossly, and disappeared before he could protest.

Link sighed and, as both Mipha and Urbosa started laughing, decided to eat his food. It went down a little easier than it had last night.

The next thing he did was duck behind the privacy screen and change into the vai clothing he’d been wearing the first day, feeling some of the tension ease out of him with the lighter outfit and the mask. Maybe the standard Hylian outfit wasn’t much more telling, but he still felt better for the change.

Then he went to look for Malena.

Urbosa found her first, leaning against the wall just outside the training ground he’d seen the Gerudo guards using, clearly gathering herself for another attempt. She looked up sharply as he approached, and he waved.

“I have something for you,” he said with his Sheikah Slate, and then with a few taps, he released the molduga guts and offered them to her.

For a moment, her gaze was blank with incomprehension; it was likely she’d never seen the inside of a molduga before. Then realization and a slow-dawning hope sparked in her eyes, and she slowly lifted them to meet his.

“Tell me those are molduga guts,” she nearly begged, and he gave her a small smile and a nod. She all but collapsed on the spot with relief, and when she held out her hand Link didn’t hesitate to hand them over. “Sarqso, sarqso, vehvi, oh sa’oten, il piota a’ya voe ayana quorili-” He waved his hands, keeping his expression apologetic, and she took a deep breath, visibly getting a hold of herself. “My husband has a chance now; for that I cannot thank you enough, but please take this.”

She fumbled into one of her pockets and shoved a glinting gold rupee at him, which he accepted with a grateful smile hidden behind the veil. He jumped when she grasped one of his hands, squeezing it firmly.

“I must hurry home to cure him, but I will not forget your kindness, little vai,” she said firmly, and then hurried away, leaving nothing but a faint patch of lavender on his hand. For a long moment, he smiled after her, warm and pleased, curling his hand against his chest.

“All worth it in the end, Link?” Mipha asked, giving him a small, indulgent smile. He grinned brightly back and nodded. “Why don’t you return to Zayla and trade for the rest of the parts? Then you’ll have some money to spend as you explore.”

A glance at Urbosa just earned Link another nod, so he started to make his way back to the infirmary, where he discovered a small commotion – mostly in the form of a handful of guards stationed outside of it now.

He hesitated just by it, considering them, and one of them turned her head to glance at him.

“You may enter,” she said shortly, “but be aware that Chief Riju is on business here. Be respectful, little vin.”

Link nodded, and on something like instinct, sketched a small bow before going inside, followed shortly by Mipha and a suddenly interested-looking Urbosa. There were three women inside now – or rather, two women and a girl a few years younger than Link himself, dressed up regally and holding herself with care.

All of them turned to look at him when he entered, and he tilted his head. A thought bubbled up, nagging and somehow bone-deep familiar. Do you bow or kneel to a foreign leader?

Erring on the side of caution, Link dropped to one knee and lowered his head respectfully. Mipha took in a sharp breath, and he hoped he hadn’t done anything wrong.

A heartbeat passed.

“Rise,” the girl, who Link was now certain was Chief Riju, said, and when he looked up she was smiling, unmistakable delight barely held in check splashed across her face. “You’re quite a polite little Hylian vai. Are you Link?”

Link stood again, slow and unsure, and nodded. Riju looked him up and down thoughtfully, eyes lingering only briefly on his stomach, though the woman beside her pursed her lips and Zayla’s eyebrows rose.

“That certainly explains how you had the fortitude to defeat a molduga so shortly before succumbing to heatstroke,” Zayla murmured.

Confused, Link followed her gaze down, and then frowned. He supposed his Gerudo outfit did expose quite a lot of the scarring covering his skin – the mismatched burns on his shoulders, the twisted skin on his stomach, even some of the harsh splashed scarring on his knees and calves. He shrugged.

Riju cleared her throat, and Zayla fell silent.

“Zayla tells me you communicate with sign language,” she said, with a high, clear voice that betrayed only a hint of tremulous uncertainty. Link nodded. “She will act as translator, so speak as you will. Are you a monster hunter by trade?”

He hesitated for a split second, considering, and then answered, I am a traveler, and do not have a trade. But I am good with a sword and a bow, so I try to clear monsters where I can.

Zayla relayed this faithfully, and Riju frowned in consideration.

“As you may know,” she said at last, crossing one leg over the other, “monster parts are currently in shorter supply than they were when Hyrule still thrived. But monsters themselves are more aggressive than ever, and ordinary dangers still remain.”

Her words were carefully measured, almost but not quite as if by script, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“How many parts did you harvest from the molduga?” Riju asked at last.

Eight fins and two more sensor glands, Chief Riju, he answered. Urbosa had circled around and was contemplating him thoughtfully, but only held his gaze for a few moments before returning her attention to Riju, expression softening.

Riju nodded sharply as Zayla translated. “Do you have other parts from your journey?” Link nodded. “How many?”

Link considered. I’m not certain, but at least two hinox stomachs, four toenails, maybe a dozen moblin fangs, five livers, a few horns, two dozen lumps of chu jelly-

“I’ll buy them all for twice the market price,” Riju interrupted, crossing her arms as if to project determination. “Agreeable?”

Link blinked, briefly taken aback, and then dipped his head respectfully. When he looked up again, Riju was smiling, bright and obviously pleased with a job well done. She tilted her head to Zayla.

“Work it out with him, please,” she chirped, loosening up just a little in her pleasure. “However much it comes to, I’ll make it good.”

Affection and something like relief colored Zayla’s expression, and she dipped her head as well. “Thank you, my chief.” She turned to Link. “Lay them out and we’ll negotiate from there.”

All in all, it was a lot easier than Link had been expecting; he released every one of the monster parts he’d stored away onto a table, a few dozen altogether, and leaned on it, faintly bemused, as Zayla counted them out and started muttering under her breath, adding up numbers.

In return for his complete stock of monster parts, Link received more than two and a half thousand rupees, which was a little overwhelming. Carefully, he spelled out sarqso with his fingers, which made Zayla chuckle even as she tilted her head to consider her new stock.

Sarqso to you, she said mildly, leaning against the table. This will keep us well-supplied with elixirs for some time.

When he glanced over, Riju was looking at Link thoughtfully. “How long are you planning on staying in Gerudo Town?” she asked, started to tap her fingers together on her lap.

At least a week, Chief Riju, he answered. I’ve requested some jewelry from Miss Isha, so I will be here until they are finished.

“She says she will be here at least a week, and claims to have requested jewelry from Isha,” Zayla relayed, and then, to Link, You may be waiting longer than you think. I am surprised she accepted the commission.

I had some flint on hand, Link explained. She’s reopened now, or will be soon.

Zayla’s eyebrows rose, but Riju was already nodding. “I saw she’d opened her doors again. That should help with the commerce issues we’ve been having; people come from all over for Starlight Memories alone.” She tapped her feet a few times, hesitating, and Urbosa made an encouraging gesture, expression soft. “Am I to assume you’re going to make several trips into the desert while you’re here?” Link nodded. “I’ll buy any monster parts you retrieve for the same rate, at least for this trip. The desert is always thick with lizalfos.”

Surprised, Link gave her a small smile and dipped his head. After a moment, Riju relaxed and grinned back, eyes sparkling.

Link found himself resting a lot over the next few days. He wasn’t able to sleep much, his body and mind struggling to settle, but he would doze, or simply sit by one of the fountains or with Muava. Slowly, the fatigue and headache that had plagued him for the last week started to fade away, the wound on his arm healed, and he had to admit he felt better for the reprieve. He even started cooking properly again, storing a few meals for future consumption and participating in a cooking class he’d accidentally stumbled upon one night.

The GSC club turned out to be a small, under-the-table shop with a number of interesting enchanted garments on offer. With another Great Fairy to give tribute to, Link didn’t want to shell out for an entire set of desert armor, but he did ask to be measured for a spaulder and agreed to come back in a few days when it was done.

(The shopkeeper called him ‘little voe’ the entire time. Link didn’t think he liked that. It wasn’t his fault the vai armor was limited to the Gerudo guards.)

Mipha, of course, continued to be good company, even as Urbosa slipped away to explore the city – checking up on it, Link assumed, seeing how it was doing in her absence. Maybe visiting with old friends.

He ignored a pinch of discomfort in his stomach.

Four days after he’d collapsed in the desert, Link spent some time lingering near Danda’s market stall, smiling in amusement as her two grandchildren tried to teach him how to play marbles. Since Kalani was nine and Makure was about four, and only the older girl spoke Hylian, it wasn’t going incredibly well, and they spent more time arguing than explaining.

Mipha stifled a laugh beside him. Do you want me to explain how to play? she asked, with visible sympathy.

Let them have their fun, Link dismissed, shifting to tuck his legs under him, kneeling on the stone. His slate was placed beside him within easy reach, open to the communication rune. He thought he got the general idea of it, anyway.

Danda took advantage of the break to read, a book open on her lap and glancing up only every so often to check on them. Link gave her a nod whenever she caught his eye, and in return she’d quirk her lips at him and return to her book.

Finally, Kalani managed to get an entire explanation out without being interrupted by Makure, and Link set a shooter marble just outside the chalk ring and gave it a go. Only a few tumbled out, but he still scooped them up and took another turn before passing it on. Kalani beamed at him.

“Exactly!” she cheered, her Hylian heavily accented. “See, you’re doing better than Makure.”

Makure had taken her shot and not gained any marbles from it. Link patted her back sympathetically, and chuckled softly when she took another shot anyway.

“Makure!” Kalani snapped, incensed.

That was how Link spent most of the morning, mediating between the two sisters (mostly by distracting them) and taking the time to chart out a rough route through Hyrule with Mipha’s advice. Come afternoon, he offered to make lunch and found himself waved off with the two girls still in tow; apparently Danda wasn’t ready to give up her break just yet.

Makure clung to one of his hands, chanting something enthusiastically, and Kalani flanked his other side, trying to look a little more mature.

“Makure wants to know what you’re making,” she relayed, even as she tugged him by the sleeve towards the communal cooking pots – just inside Danda’s line of sight, Link noticed.

Link laughed and shook both his hands lightly, drawing attention to the fact that they were both occupied. Kalani huffed and said something in Gerudo, and Makure sullenly let go of Link’s hand at about the same time Kalani did.

“Do you still have some honey?” Mipha suggested, giving him a fond enough smile to almost make him glow. “They probably don’t get the chance to try it very often.”

Link nodded thoughtfully, and then tapped a few things on his slate one after another. “Courser bee honey. Raw meat. Hyrule herb. Stamella shroom. Swift carrot.”

Sure enough, Kalani’s eyes went round, and she all but seized his arm again, pulling him towards the cooking pots. Makure protested loudly, and as soon as Kalani explained, she was tugging Link along too. A few of the Gerudo still shopping for their own lunches chuckled quietly as they passed.

Both girls pushed him down in front of the pot, and, still smiling, he got to work while Mipha settled beside him and the two girls peered avidly over his shoulders.

He cut the meat into slices as evenly as he could, and then the carrots and the mushrooms, dropping them into the buttered pot to cook. Mipha leaned against the wall and watched him wistfully.

“I never got the hang of cooking,” she admitted, and he glanced up at her with surprise. Her eyes crinkled in a smile. “Yes, you always did find that odd. But there’s always been someone else willing to cook for me, and I always had so many other things I wanted to do.”

Lost as to what he could say in return, Link just inclined his head with a small smile, reached for a spoon nearby, and started to stir the pot’s contents slowly, encouraging them to brown more evenly.

A patting on his stomach and Makure’s voice drew his attention back to the two girls.

“Makure!” Kalani hissed, sounding a lot more genuinely dismayed than she had all morning. And then, to Link, “I’m sorry, miss, Makure is rude and nosy-”

For a long moment, Link was confused, looking from Kalani and then down to Makure, who was still staring at him with large, expectant eyes, one hand pressed against… ah. Against the dark, half-melted patch of scar tissue that covered much of his torso.

Makure asked her question again, insistent. Link turned away to consider the cooking pot, and just caught Mipha’s dismayed and oddly guilty expression.

He left the food to cook for a bit, rinsed his hands off in the fountain, and then reached for his slate. “What did they say?” he asked.

Kalani bit her lip, staring up at him, and then said, “She asked what, um-” She gestured to Link’s stomach, still looking uncomfortable and unsure.

Link gave her a reassuring smile, and then nodded thoughtfully and messed with his Sheikah Slate a little more to say, “I’ll make lunch. I’ll explain. After.”

His slate wasn’t really equipped for something like this; he’d need Danda’s help, if she was willing.

Looking almost comically dubious, Kalani relayed this to her sister, who pouted dramatically but accepted it. Feeling a little relieved, Link went back to the cooking pot, considering how to answer.

He hadn’t put too much thought into the scarring on his body yet; he’d woken up with it after all.

…But it was a little more extensive than anything Link had seen on anyone else. And he didn’t actually know the entirety of how he’d gotten it. Now that it had been forced into his attention, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

This is a lot of burn scars, isn’t it? he asked Mipha, when he had a spare moment. The girls behind him had descended into playing tic-tac-toe while they waited.

Mipha dropped her gaze and nodded. “Quite.”

He didn’t ask anything else just yet, but by the time he was done making food for everyone, he’d silently resolved to ask Mipha for details later.

In the meantime, he gathered the food into a few bowls, giving one to each girl and then taking two more himself, one of which was for Danda. He hadn’t made Mipha refuse again; it was pointless when he already knew the answer, and it just made his stomach turn with odd dread.

Danda thanked him with a nod when he handed her the bowl, and the two girls dug in enthusiastically, seemingly forgetting the previous conversation. Link ate as well, having a much easier time with it than he had in a few days, though his distraction slowed him down noticeably.

Danda noticed, too, raising an amused eyebrow.

Done watching them? she asked between bites, sign distorted a little by the utensil.

Link took a moment to answer, and then finally said instead, Makure asked about my scars.

Danda’s expression lost all amusement, the corner of her lips turning down. I apologize for her, she’s just a child. Was she persistent?

Link shook his head, setting down his bowl to clarify, I don’t mind explaining, but I would need your help, if you don’t mind. Danda raised an eyebrow, and Link continued, I was going to say that… He hesitated, considering, and then finished, That it was soul paint for bad things that happened. Is that alright?

Danda’s expression softened visibly, and she nodded. That’s quite a tactful answer, thank you. Very well, I will relay your explanation. In today’s world she was going to need to learn eventually.

Link gave her a small, grateful smile, and Danda waited until the two girls had finished eating before she called for Makure’s attention and translated Link’s response into Gerudo to Makure’s wide eyes. Makure’s mouth formed a little ‘o’, and she looked over at Link and said something else. Danda inclined her head and replied, and then said to Link,

“She says she’s never seen anyone so colorful.”

Link blinked, looked down at his hands and arms, which had collected colors and marks rapidly over the last few weeks, and the little faint teal handprint on his stomach now, and laughed in quiet surprise.

He looked at Makure and nodded, a small grin stretching across his mouth.

That night, Link waited until he and Mipha were alone in the quiet infirmary before asking her if she knew how he’d gotten the scars. Her expression softened, and he was just grateful she didn’t look sad. She shook her head.

“Not in detail,” she said, “but I can guess from their appearance the basic source of each one, if you’d like.” Link nodded, so Mipha scooted over to sit by him and let her fingers drift just centimeters away from each scar as she talked him through it. “This entire patch on your chest and stomach was likely from a guardian beam… these on your knees, they’re from malice, you can see the splash marks where you must have fallen…”

She walked him through each one, only the very basics – the marks on his forearms where he might have caught himself in a puddle of malice, a large patch on his right shoulder and his back where she thought he’d fallen. More malice burns on his calves and one foot where his footwork must have led him astray. Another patch of melted skin on his left shoulder where a guardian beam might have clipped him. A diagonal beam across the backs of his legs, something like dripping muck down his spine.

It was a lot. Mipha didn’t say so, but Link thought that she suspected he’d gotten them all at around the same time, and that they’d hurt quite a lot before they healed. (Some days they still hurt a lot.)

It was a long time before Link fell asleep.

Zayla cleared Link to go out into the desert the next day, though she warned him to be cautious. Be kind to yourself, was how she put it, but Link wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that.

I think I’d like to go out on my own today, he said abruptly, before they’d quite reached the main gate. Beside him, Mipha’s steps only faltered a little before she steadied again.

Are you sure? she asked after a moment. You’ve only just recovered. Again. Don’t you think it would be safer to have company?

Link shrugged. I’m feeling alright, he insisted. And I’m well stocked for different climates. You saw me make them.

“Let him go, Mipha,” Urbosa said unexpectedly, appearing on Mipha’s other side quickly enough that Link’s jaw clenched involuntarily. “You’re the one who said to give him time.”

Mipha bit her lip, looking uncertain, but after a moment she nodded and gave Link a small, strained smile.

“Yes, alright,” Mipha agreed quietly. “Be safe, Link. I’ll let the others know where you’ve gone.”

Link nodded distractedly, and finally went out the main gate to duck into the shrine to one side of it. He had a lot to do – a lot to catch up on – and as uncomfortably exposed as he felt right now, he’d rather do it by himself.

Daqo Chisay’s shrine didn’t take an hour for Link to complete, and he changed into his more sturdy Hylian trousers and the new spaulder inside. From there, he went around to the west side of town and followed the swordswomen, as Urbosa had suggested on the first day. The Kema Zoos shrine took him even less time than Daqo Chisay’s, but he sat inside for a while, watching Kema Zoos silently and occasionally taking a drink from his waterskin.

His Sheikah Slate called the place he’d woken up the ‘shrine of resurrection’. He wondered if he’d really died, or simply come very, very close.

He wondered if it mattered.

From Kema Zoos’ shrine, he went on to forge through the sandstorm, blindly following his shrine sensor until he stumbled upon the glowing structure. Dako Tah’s shrine took close to two hours, and then Link had another set of four orbs humming in his chest.

When he left the shrine, the sandstorm had ceased. Revali was waiting outside. Link faltered.

“Map,” the Rito demanded curtly, and Link warily opened it up and showed it to the other. Revali studied it for a moment, and then tapped the dip where blank space bit deeply into the Wasteland region. “The tower is there. As long as you aren’t truly helpless, that should be enough for you to find it.”

Link cocked his head at the Rito, finding himself unable to summon the energy for a smile. But he nodded, signing a soft thank you. Revali humphed.

“Don’t fall into the pit,” he said dismissively, and then took off into the air, circling up and away.

Link sat on the step of the shrine for a while after that, eating some of the food he’d saved a few days before, and then glanced down at his map and started climbing. He was able to grab some rushrooms off the wall too; he didn’t need that many more to please the old man in the Gerudo Valley stable.

He felt oddly numb, in stark contrast to how he’d felt wandering on his own the other times he’d done so, but it was a peaceful sort of mental silence. While he wasn’t sure he liked it, he was at least certain it didn’t hurt.

Revali’s odd sense of humor came to light when Link finally found the tower, rising up out of what looked like nothing more or less than a bottomless pit. Safe in his isolation, Link rolled his eyes, and then started looking for a way up.

He didn’t hear the music until he was most of the way up the tower, fingers wrapped around the metallic grating. He paused, listening for a minute, and then pulled himself the rest of the way up.

There was a Rito musician at the top, which shouldn’t have surprised him; they didn’t seem to notice Link, so Link spent a few minutes leaning against one of the columns, listening. The musician was practicing, he gathered, playing not a complete song but fractions of it, in broken pieces, each bar over and over in slightly different ways.

The Rito didn’t notice Link until he finally went to the pedestal and set the Sheikah Slate into it, downloading this region’s map. The tower lit up blue, like each of the others so far, and the Rito yelped almost comically and spun around, eyes wide.

“Oh, my,” he breathed, blinking at Link owlishly. “I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone else up here – I do apologize, I didn’t mean to ignore you.” Link shrugged. “How did you get up here? Without wings, I can’t imagine…” Link gestured vaguely downward, crossing over to sit on the edge of the tower and watch the desert in the distance. “Ah.”

There were a few beats of silence, increasingly awkward, and finally, Link half-turned around and gestured again, inviting the musician to go on if he wanted.

The Rito bard was studying him. Link tried not to clench up too obviously.

He felt very exposed.

“I am Kass,” the Rito said instead of accepting, voice deceptively lilting and light. “I’m… a traveling bard, you could say. My teacher once worked in Hyrule Castle itself, you know, and he taught me most of the old songs. I’ve been seeking out the rest on my own.” He paused, and his eyes flickered down briefly to Link’s hip. He added meaningfully, “He specialized in songs about the hero of the goddess.”

Link withdrew sharply, head turning away at the unspoken implication, but his interest was caught despite himself. Braced for the worst, one hand on the edge of the platform in preparation to push off and away, he returned his gaze to Kass, whose eyes gleamed with anticipation.

“I know a song about this place,” Kass added, seemingly casual. “Would you like to hear it?”

Link hesitated, studying Kass for a long moment, but finally, he nodded.

Without further pause, Kass started to play, and Link listened.

Read straight, the short song Kass performed was a moving ballad about the ancient hero’s relationship with the Gerudo and the harshness of the desert. But there was a refrain in it that caught Link’s attention.

As light shines from the northwest skies, from the tower’s shadow an arrow flies. Pierce heaven’s light to reveal the prize.

Over and over, between each verse about the ancient hero’s journey to first best and then befriend the then-guarded neighbors of Hyrule, between metaphor and hopeful appeal, the same slightly out-of-place refrain.

Link tilted his head up to check the position of the sun, and then leaned over to look at where the tower’s shadow was falling.

A little to one side of it, there was a large shrine pedestal. He reviewed the refrain again, considered his equipment, and nodded to himself.

Finally, as the song drew to a close, he looked up at Kass and offered him a shadow of a smile. Thank you for your help, he signed without thinking, and to his surprise, Kass grinned back.

“Of course,” the Rito said warmly. “Best of luck.”

Feeling oddly warm for the interaction, Link turned, grabbed for his paraglider, and sailed down towards the shrine pedestal. The shadow of the tower had nearly reached it.

Night had fallen by the time Link returned to Gerudo Town, though he’d seen Revali circling overhead twice more while he’d been out, checking on him. He’d found one more shrine before he left – tucked away in the rocks surrounded by luminous stones that had just started to glow when Link found it – changed back into the Gerudo clothing inside, and stopped by the stable just in time to catch the old man before he went to bed for the night.

He had two diamonds now. If he could find a third, then…

Well, he hoped he’d be lucky enough to find a third.

Mipha was waiting by the front gate, visibly worried, and Link faltered with the guilty temptation to slip in through a side gate instead before he shook it off and waved to her, catching her attention. The relief in her face was enough to convince him he’d made the right decision.

She ushered him inside as soon as he was within reach, looking him up and down, and he spun on his heel with a faint smile to let her see him.

Mipha laughed weakly, reaching up to fiddle with the end of her head fin. “Are you feeling better?” she blurted out, and then looked immediately apologetic.

Link nodded on instinct, then thought about it again and shrugged. He didn’t feel so numb, but maybe still a little skittish and unhappy, which wasn’t necessarily an improvement.

I think I’m going to go pray, he said instead of expanding, and Mipha smiled at him gently and dropped back to let him lead the way.

Urbosa was waiting just inside, but chose not to approach them; Link saw her nod at them as they passed, and then disappear in the direction of Kara Kara. Link turned away, let out a breath, and picked his way through the silent bazaar towards the goddess statue on the east side.

Mipha, mercifully, stayed quiet, letting Link have his space even as she stayed close by. She was a comforting presence, lending Link her silent support.

Link knelt down in front of the goddess statue and bent his head, eyes sliding shut.

O sworn goddess of love and light, I pray to thee, thine loyal knight; that thou might see the proof I’ve brought…

This time, even once the magic in his chest sublimated to fill his body with renewed strength, he lingered. His breath stayed deep and even, and he realized he didn’t want to rise just yet.

He wished, suddenly, that he better remembered how to pray.

I hope that I won’t let you down, he thought at last, helplessly, and for lack of anything better, he took three sprouts of safflina – yellow, pink, blue – and wove them together to set at the foot of the statue.

He stayed there for a minute longer, and then finally let out a sigh and stood. Mipha took that as the signal to stand with him.

Without a word between them, Link went to the cooking pots next and cooked something simple – a meat and mushroom stew, slow and nicely scented. Scrubbed out the pot for the next person, rinsed the cloth in the fountain beside it. Curled up against the wall and ate quietly.

It wasn’t until he was finishing up, setting his bowl on his lap, that he finally spoke.

I think I died a hundred years ago, he signed abruptly, without looking at Mipha. Mipha was tellingly silent for a long minute, and he almost thought she wasn’t going to reply.

“You came very close,” Mipha said at last, carefully. “There were decades when we weren’t sure you were ever going to wake up. But you aren’t dead, Link.”

Link folded his legs in front of him, and dropped one hand to a malice burn wrapping up his calf. He let it rest there for a minute before he answered, struggling to pull his thoughts together.

No, he agreed. But I think the person I used to be is.

He felt oddly fragile, and he didn’t like it. Finally, Link identified the fugue that had been plaguing him all day: a massive and breathtaking grief. For the person he’d been and the life he’d had and the kingdom he’d served, lost memories and forgotten relationships and hopes.

Perhaps to call it ‘the death of the person he’d been’ was overdramatic. To Link, though, it felt too simple.

“Oh,” Mipha breathed, a soft, breathless sound of sympathetic hurt. Link stared down into his empty bowl, unable to look up. “Goddess, Link…” Mipha’s voice was thick with emotion, and it took her a moment to get a hold of herself enough to speak properly. “If it helps, Link… I don’t think that you is dead either. Gravely injured, perhaps, like yourself.” She swallowed, and pushed on without waiting for Link to look at her. “But I think you’ll find parts of him in yourself as you recover. You’ve always been quite… Quite strong.”

You have a lot of faith in me, Link said without looking. Mipha laughed wetly.

“You’ve never let me down,” she murmured in return, and finally, Link closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall.

He wondered if that was true.

Chapter Text

Given the route Urbosa said they would have to take, Link opted to meet Revali and Daruk near Kara Kara. Since they were taking a road and then going into a more secluded part of the desert, Link chose to keep the Gerudo vai clothing on; he could change later in a shrine if necessary.

“I make no promises about this first one,” Urbosa warned, glancing down at him. “Zelda shared a few stories about shrines you’d completed in the past, and it sounds of a kind, but…”

She trailed off, and Link gave an absent nod of acknowledgement, still distant and distracted. Urbosa huffed softly, leaving the topic alone.

They had to skirt far around Naboris, avoiding the lightning that crackled in the sandstorm around it. Link pretended not to see the wistful looks Urbosa shot the enormous machine, and instead checked on Daruk and Revali.

Neither of them appeared particularly bothered by the several days of separation, which was a relief; Daruk had asked after Link’s health when they first met back up, and Revali had postured a little without looking at him, but neither seemed… well, angry.

Link didn’t deserve them.

“This makes over a dozen in total, doesn’t it?” Revali was saying, arms crossed as he frowned contemplatively. “And we’ve covered less than a quarter of Hyrule. How many of these blasted things is he expected to complete? It seems… excessive.”

“Careful, Revali, you’re startin’ to sound concerned,” Daruk teased, grinning down at the other. Revali scoffed.

“Not hardly. But the more there are, the longer it will take to find them all, never mind complete them.”

Link had to stop himself from apologizing, but Mipha must have caught something in his expression anyway, and she gave him a small, comforting smile. “You always liked to say that the goddess expected much of you. Perhaps this is a part of that.”

Some of the tension drained from Link’s shoulders, and he nodded, slow and still unsure. He tried not to wonder if he was a disappointment to Hylia as well.

They only ran into a few monsters out in the desert, mostly just stray lizalfos; a few times Urbosa didn’t even break in her relaying of the story of the seven swordswomen, taking her time with the narrative like a well-loved story. It was an old Gerudo legend, from back when they were still a nomadic people, and Link didn’t realize until the thought crossed his mind that that was even something he’d known of their history. But seven swordswomen, each with their own unique gifts, protecting their people through sandstorm and horde…

Urbosa finished the story before they reached the monument she was leading them too, but Link stayed quiet, attention drifting as he mulled the tale over in his mind. He played with the veil across his mouth, something like familiarity starting to itch inside his head.

He’d heard this legend before, walking this route, in different company.

Zelda, maybe? Something in his heart told him she had been enthusiastic about old legends. But did-

And then his concentration slipped, and he felt the wisps of memory slide through his fingers like so much water and dust. His shoulders slumped in defeat, his hands dropping from the veil.

Link kept his eyes on their surroundings instead, monitoring the dust clouds and camouflaged lumps that betrayed the lizalfos of the desert. Patches of hydromelons and voltfruit-bearing cacti peppered the landscape, and he stopped to pick some as he went, a little at a time.

It was still morning when they reached the monument, but only just. It was a grand construction, each figure towering far over their heads, a single stone foot larger than all of them put together. Link spent a few minutes just marveling at them, head tilted back to take them in, the worn carvings and the signs of age and the wooden scaffolds where repairs had been intended.

“Ain’t no one know beauty like a Gerudo,” Daruk said quietly, and Urbosa made a soft sound of satisfaction. Link exhaled, listening to the wind whistle over their heads and the sand shift and lizalfos squawk in the distance.

Only when he’d seen his fill did Link spend the better part of twenty minutes poking around and exploring; eventually he nodded to himself and started to move with purpose. All other worries seemed to fall away; there was just Link and his puzzle and his friends around him, waiting patiently.

Revali and Daruk were comparing notes behind him, just within Link’s hearing range; it sounded like they and the other champions had had, for the most part, very similar trials, at least outside their respective shrines. But of course, Link’s tasks were even older than theirs had been.

All told, it took an hour and a half for Link to finish putting all of the symbols in their place, and he needed Revali’s help to find some of the plates and one or two orbs. It left him sweaty and tired, but after a bit he realized he was smiling too, a pleased curl of his mouth. He rolled the last orb into place, and turned to watch the shrine rumble out of the ground.

“Well done, little brother,” Daruk laughed aloud, and Link let his smile widen into a grin that crinkled his eyes.

“Not bad,” Urbosa agreed quietly, surveying the monument with fresh, thoughtful eyes. “Go on in. We’ll be waiting for you when you finish. There’s still another shrine to visit today.”

Link nodded cheerfully, slid off the pedestal, and disappeared into the shrine without a word.

The problem came with the next shrine.

“I just need a minute,” Pokki insisted for the third time in an hour, stubbornly staying seated and leaning exhaustedly back against the shrine.

Link didn’t bother hiding his exasperation this time, and leaned back for a moment to consider her and the situation. He tapped through his Sheikah Slate and said, “Do you need help?”

Stop laughing at me, he signed to Mipha, as understated as he could. She just giggled harder.

Pokki moaned softly, leaning her head back against the sealed shrine door. “I just need a drink…” Before Link could do anything, she took a waterskin, drank from it, and pouted. “Water is simply not enough… I need… a Noble Pursuit…”

“Oh sa’oten, she’s that Pokki,” Urbosa muttered, and then, to Link, “As an adolescent she would sneak into the Noble Canteen to wheedle alcohol out of the weaker-willed patrons, since she knew Furosa wouldn’t give her any. I must have steered her out of there by the scruff of her neck a thousand times.”

Link gave in enough to release a put-upon sigh, and then stood up, shook the sand off himself, and gave Pokki a short nod before turning and walking away.

“He’s actually doing it, isn’t he,” Revali muttered to Daruk, who just laughed loudly.

Wait here and let me know if she leaves on her own? Link requested of Revali, who snorted even as he settled on the roof.

“You would like to hope, wouldn’t you, you pushover?” he groused, crossing his legs atop the shrine. Link grunted at him, unimpressed, and looked at Urbosa.

I’m not going to be blocked at the door, am I? he asked. Urbosa’s eyes glittered.

“No, but you might have some trouble getting your hands on a Noble Pursuit,” she said. “Furosa doesn’t serve alcohol to minors, and Noble Pursuits are particularly strong. It’s not like either Mipha or I can help you.”

Link fumbled, stomach flipping like he was going to vomit. He looked away quickly, took a deep breath, and struggled for a few seconds before signing, Yes, right, I know, yes. Stop.

He knew they couldn’t help him.

He knew they couldn’t help him.

He knew he was-

(There was something, in the back of his mind where he thought memories might live, that echoed with terror-)

“If we hurry we’ll make it back to Gerudo Town in the early evening,” Mipha broke into his shattered thoughts, forcing him to look up. Her small smile didn’t hide the startled worry pinching the corners of her eyes. “Perhaps we’ll even beat the night crowd, wouldn’t that be nice, Link?” She paused. “Link?”

“It’s alright, little buddy,” Daruk added gently. “Let’s just focus on now.”

Link nodded, quick and jerky, and then forcibly straightened his back. He shook his hands out, shook his head, and huffed quietly. Scrubbed his hands over his arms, and then signed, The bar isn’t far from the barracks. Is it?

“…No,” Urbosa said, with just a touch of remorse in her voice. “I’ll show you the way.”

He nodded again without looking at her, his breath slowly evening out. He needed to get a drink for Pokki. Pokki liked Noble Pursuits, and if he got one for her she would let him into the shrine. So he needed to go to the Gerudo Town bar, and talk to Furosa, and then work from there.

“Urbosa once gave you a fruit juice recipe that imitated a Noble Pursuit,” Mipha offered, drawing his attention. “I’m sure she could teach it to you again if you wanted. It was one of your favorites too.”

“What Link needs is some good solid rocks to help him get strong!” Daruk interrupted, clapping his hands deafening loud. “Ain’t any good rock roasts this far from the mountains, but you can find some decent snacks, brother.” Link cocked his head quizzically, and Daruk grinned at him, baring all of his chunky teeth. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you leaving those out of your diet! Trust me, you loved a good well-marbled rock back in the day.”

“I really think the fruit juice is a better idea,” Mipha insisted, voice pitching up, but as Link bent down, she let out a soft, resigned sigh. “Oh, not this again…”

Link came up with a few reasonably sized chunks of rock and held them out to Daruk, who grinned at him. “Perfect! Eat up, little brother, we’re not yet done with the day.”

Urbosa started muttering under her breath, and then laughing, rich and loud.

Link popped the first rock in his mouth and crunched, grinding his teeth against the hard stone. Could be worse.

“Oh, honey, this isn’t Hyrule,” Furosa said, as soon as Link walked in the door. “Best I can offer you is a glass of milk.”

Yes please, Link signed, letting a little bit of amusement color his face. He could still taste sand in his mouth.

Furosa raised an eyebrow, but turned away to go pour one while Link hopped up to sit at the bar, swinging his feet gently against the stool legs. Mipha sat beside him, and Urbosa leaned against the wall, watching.

Link paid ten rupees for the glass of milk, dropped the veil from his face, and allowed himself two sips before he looked up at Furosa again. I heard you can get a Noble Pursuit here.

Furosa snorted, leaning on the bar. Don’t make me take that back and kick you outta here. That’s three shots all on its own, and I don’t make virgin cocktails. You come all this way for a drink?

Link shook his head. I wanted to investigate the shrine out east, past Vah Naboris, but P-o-k-k-i is sitting on it and refusing to move without a Noble Pursuit. I thought I’d bring her one and speed things along.

Furosa paused, frowning at him.

I do believe that was the sign the champion herself used for the divine beast, she said, eyes narrow. Link’s breath hitched, and he took a deep drink of the milk, fingers clasped tightly around the glass as if for support.

“One thing at a time, Link,” Mipha murmured, soft and comforting.

Pokki, he repeated, trying to stay on topic. Furosa raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

The lengths she’ll go to for her favorite drink are amusing, Furosa remarked dryly. I haven’t been able to make Noble Pursuits for several weeks, since they require a large amount of ice, and the path to the icehouse up north is clogged with monsters. Since ice is a luxury, to clear it isn’t exactly a priority.

Link hummed, taking out his Sheikah Slate to open his map. Urbosa leaned over his shoulder and located the icehouse for him, tapping it.

“There’s a very old ruin between here and the icehouse, and a considerable stretch of desert,” she murmured. “Not a bad location, all told, if you mean to hunt monsters while you’re here. Well within your ability to handle.”

Link nodded thoughtfully and put it away, looking back up at Furosa. I could clear the way, if you liked.

Furosa’s gaze flicked to his shoulder, where the hilt of a scimitar he’d found on the way was just visible. I see you’re a swordswoman. That eliminates half the problem, yes, but I’m old and in no shape to carry a block of ice all that way. You’d need to find someone willing on such short notice.

I can do that too, Link said without hesitation. Furosa’s expression softened.

You’re a sweet girl. Finish your milk. The icehouse guard tends to go to bed shortly after dinner, so you have until then to retrieve the ice if you intend to do so today.

Link hummed and kept drinking, listening with half an ear to the conversation in the other room, more of a lounge than anything, from what he could see. The milk itself was sweet, if slightly warm, and tasted fresh; it was probably goat’s milk, he thought. Could use a little honey.

Do you like old legends? he asked Furosa on a whim. She snorted quietly.

Are you asking for a story or offering to tell one?

Asking.

“Hm.” My sign is fluent but not enough to tell a story. Can you hear? Link nodded. “Very well. Do you know the story of Nabooru?” Link shook his head. “Then let me tell it to you, little vin. It’s one of our best, out in the desert.”

He listened quietly, accepting a second glass of milk when Furosa offered it to him, and let the tale wash over him. Mipha was listening too, her eyes more on him than on Furosa, a small and warm smile making her face glow prettily. It was a good story, defiance and determination and redemption.

“Those were dark days, when Ganondorf held his iron fist over the Gerudo,” Furosa said heavily. “But they’re long past now, and a voe will never rule us again.”

Link nodded, signed thank you, and set another yellow rupee on the counter before standing up and stretching. He’d been sitting far too long.

Furosa’s gaze darted down to his stomach, and he felt his face heat in discomfort. But Furosa didn’t comment.

“Oh, sa’oten,” Furosa sighed instead, and gave Link a wry smile. “I can’t ask a little Hylian vai to bring that ice all the way back here all by yourself. You bring it just to the near end of the ruins, I’ll wait there for you and take it the rest of the way back.”

Link granted Furosa a small smile of his own. Would you like me to let you know when I’ve cleared the ruins, then?

Please, Furosa agreed, and turned back to her bar as if it was settled.

There wasn’t any time to change; Link downed an elixir for toughness instead, wincing at the taste, and then took off towards the front gate. With night falling, the sapphire circlet went into his slate; he wouldn’t need it this time of day.

“Are you sure you can clear the area?” Urbosa asked archly as soon as they were out, keeping pace with him. “Bokoblin are one thing, but lizalfos are quite another, and the ruins sometimes has Nabooru vipers as well.”

Link made a mental note to keep an eye on them. I’ll be careful, he promised. Watch my back?

“Of course,” Urbosa promised instantly, echoed a moment later by Mipha with just as much resolve.

He would have to work quickly; he didn’t want to miss his window and have the icehouse guard fall asleep before he arrived. Butchering lizalfos was simple enough that he could probably get away without skipping it, but he couldn’t linger.

Urbosa caught Daruk up on the plan when he found them, and when he finished laughing he offered to watch the icehouse and let Link know if the guard went to sleep. Mipha took one side, and Urbosa took the other, and Link ran one sword drill with the scimitar before he went in.

He felt- he felt confident. Like he had going to find Sesami’s friends.

“On your left, Link!”

“One behind the pillar!”

“There’s three that set up an ambush on ahead, Link.”

“Watch yourself, the next few are electric.”

For a few minutes, everything seemed to fall in line, the Gerudo clothes smooth on Link’s skin and his feet moving under him exactly as he wanted them to and the air cooling down from the blazing desert heat. Mipha and Urbosa wove in and out of the battle just as easily, keeping an eye on things from every angle, their sharp instincts missing nothing. Link parried lizalfos blades with next to no effort, and spun around to slice through them, and it was easy.

This was what he was born for.

All told it took less than an hour to clear the ruins, leaving him sweaty and sore, stomach burning, but more than loosely satisfied with himself. Even Urbosa was smirking broadly, eyes glimmering with something like pride.

“Well done, Link,” she said quietly. “Go ahead and harvest the spoils. It looks like you have time.” She nodded at the sky, only just beginning to dim properly with the falling sun.

He grinned at her, a flash of teeth and pleasure, and set to work, kneeling beside the nearest lizalfos to start the dirtiest part of the work. He’d have to wash before he went to get the ice, but it would be worth it.

He could almost hear, in Revali’s voice, If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to show off those sword skills you used to be so well known for.

Link had to keep himself from laughing in the rush of relief and unfamiliar pride.

Chapter Text

Link walked side by side with Furosa on the way back to the city, keeping a careful eye on the desert around them. No lizalfos came near, though, either licking their wounds or in retreat, and when they were back inside the city they traded back again; Furosa had been huffing and wincing under the weight of the ice block.

He deposited it in a little cooler Furosa had set aside, not quite bare but very close to it, and stretched, working the strain out of his shoulders.

Your help is appreciated, little vin, Furosa signed warmly, leaning back on the wall. Are you certain you want to go back into the desert tonight? Pokki will probably return on her own before much longer.

Link nodded without hesitation, shaking himself off. I’ve come this close, I’d like to finish up tonight. And Pokki will be pleased.

Furosa rolled her eyes, but she was already smiling. Very well, go tell her the good news. I’ll start mixing one up special. Tell her it’s the best one I’ve ever made.

Link flashed her a smile, and then turned to make his way out of the town again, ready for the last branch of the day’s tasks. Mipha and Urbosa were waiting for him, and Urbosa’s expression was lined with fondness.

Not too tired? Mipha asked him, her concern somehow not souring her smile in the least. Link shook his head; he was sore and fatigued, but he’d been resting for days and it wouldn’t keep him from focusing. Then let’s go finish up.

Despite his own insistence, Link was lagging by the time he’d passed Naboris, and he’d miscalculated on one point; his Gerudo clothes were too thin and open for the chilly desert night, and he had to take a strong, warm elixir to stop himself from shivering.

I want to finish, he insisted stubbornly to Mipha. The tightness around her eyes made him soften, and he promised, I’ll take it slow tomorrow. It shouldn’t take half the day to reach the fairy fountain, right?

“Hm?” Revali grunted irritably, when Mipha nudged him, and Link waited for Revali to look over before he repeated himself. “Is that all? Yes, fine, you should be able to make it there and back before dark even if you leave in the late afternoon.”

“Wear your desert spaulder,” Urbosa tacked on, voice leaving no room for compromise. “That part of the desert is blazingly hot for most of the day, and there are a few monster camps as well.”

Link nodded, squinting into the distance to see if he could make out the shrine yet.

The moon was high by the time they reached it, and he was feeling a little shaky with exhaustion himself. He dropped down to sit in front of a visibly dozing Pokki, fiddled with the Sheikah Slate, and then finally reached out to prod her awake.

“Bartender has a drink for you,” said Zelda’s faintly distorted voice. “Best she’s ever made.”

Pokki’s eyes blinked open blearily, and then all at once she shot bolt upright. “Furosa has a Noble Pursuit?”

Despite himself, Link chuckled softly and nodded, and without another word, Pokki took off at a run. Link ran his fingers through his hair and just held back from rolling his eyes.

Well. At least he could get into the shrine now.

“Maybe you should wait,” Mipha interrupted, voice a little high with anxiety, and when Link looked at her she was biting her lip, eyes on him.

Link hesitated. Just a peek, he bargained. Mipha laughed a little, helplessly fond.

“Oh, alright,” she murmured, not looking entirely reassured. Link promised himself he’d move quickly.

It turned out not to be difficult; the Misae Suma shrine was another blessing shrine. Even better, when he opened the chest in the middle… there was a diamond in it.

He didn’t think it was a coincidence that it was exactly what he’d been wanting, and with a broad smile, he thanked the monk half a dozen times, desperately relieved, before he finally pushed himself to his feet and went to break the stasis cube.

“You have done well to arrive at this shrine,” Misae Suma began, and Link closed his eyes to receive the spirit orb with a sigh.

When he left the shrine again, he looked around quickly, his eyes passing over each of the others before he finally met Mipha’s expectant gaze and gave her a crooked grin.

I’m getting a diamond circlet, he told her, buzzing with a faintly punch-drunk delight, and after a moment she smiled back.

Congratulations, she said sincerely.

The next morning, Link woke up with the sun, blearily met Mipha’s disapproving gaze, and went back to sleep almost the moment she indicated for him to do so, the faint sound of humming filling his dreams.

He didn’t actually rise until the sun was high in the sky, rubbing at his face and still feeling fuzzy and tired. He hummed low in his throat a few times, discontented, and then squinted up at Urbosa, who snorted and muttered something inaudible.

“You should sell your spoils,” she said more clearly. “Then perhaps you can visit Isha and see if she’s finished your order.”

And he could ask for the diamond circlet, too. The thought made him perk up almost immediately, and he nodded, pushing himself up to his feet and only stumbling a little. Mipha reached out to steady him, only just stopping herself from touching him before she pulled her hand close again, expression regretful. He yawned, rubbing at his sleepy eyes again, and started moving.

Zayla was pleased to see him again, but insisted on checking over his health before they went over the spoils he’d brought.

“If you’re so recently recovered from serious injury, you should be somewhere a doctor can assess you regularly,” she chided without heat, feeling his forehead and then his pulse. “Hateno or Kakariko, or perhaps somewhere near Zora’s Domain. I assume there’s lingering pain?” She glanced meaningfully down at his stomach, and Link had to stop himself from squirming. He shrugged. “This isn’t a trial, little vai. There is lingering pain. If you explain it to me, perhaps I can help.”

Link did squirm this time, clenching and unclenching his fists on his lap and just stopping short of shaking them out. He didn’t want to look at anyone, and he kicked the ground sullenly. Zayla waited.

They stretch painfully, he said at last, slow and stiff. It had been worst on that rainy day in Kakariko, but at least he hadn’t been very active then; he hated to think what it would feel like to fight in the rain.

“Expected,” she agreed, with perhaps less brusqueness than he’d come to expect from her. “Is there anything this prevents you from doing, or makes difficult?”

Link glanced over at Mipha, whose intense gaze was focused on Zayla. But after a moment she caught his eye by accident, confusion creeping into her expression at his lingering look. His stomach swooped with discomfort.

He returned his attention to Zayla and tried to force himself to relax, shaking his head. There were some things that were painful, but nothing he hadn’t been able to grit through. It was fine; he was fine.

Abruptly, Mipha clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes going wide, and all but bolted out the door. Link relaxed, bit his cheek, and, shamefully more comfortable without Mipha watching, conceded to Zayla without looking at her,

It can be hard to pull a shirt on sometimes. And reaching over my head hurts, especially when I’m climbing. But I can do it. He hesitated, staring at the ground for a moment, and then added reluctantly, The sun and the rain both hurt.

Zayla didn’t look surprised, only nodding along, gaze intent and focused.

“Do you stretch?” Link nodded. “How often?”

In the mornings and sometimes the evenings.

“Try to do it more often,” Zayla instructed. “Aim for at least five times a day, perhaps when you stop for meals or other short rests. I can also show you how to make an ointment out of chu jelly and cool safflina that should soften it and help with any itching.” Zayla considered him for a moment, and then tacked on, “I’m afraid I’m out of ralis root, but you should be able to get it from one of the Hylian traveling doctors. Tell them I recommended it.”

Even as he nodded, Link knew that he would not do that. He could deal with the discomfort; other people were likely to need the powerful painkiller more.

“And get a spa plan from Romah at the Hotel Oasis,” Zayla added, with a hint of a smile that told Link she was anticipating the way he flushed in startled embarrassment. “Massage will help loosen the scar tissue and improve your range of motion – that’s important to you as a swordswoman, isn’t it?” Link still hesitated, and she snorted. “Think about it, little vai.”

That wasn’t the end of it – there was a little more back and forth, going over a few stretches Link didn’t habitually perform and Zayla showing Link how to make the ointment – so it was over half an hour before he finally emerged, slate empty of monster spoils but much more full of rupees.

Mipha’s smile was a little strained when he found her, and he cocked his head.

I’m sorry for staying earlier, she apologized, virtually unprompted. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I forget sometimes, that things aren’t quite the same.

Link read between the lines easily enough; more than the mistake itself, it probably bothered Mipha that things had changed in the first place. He softened, feeling an echo of the thin-stretched exhaustion that threatened to dog him. You were worried. I understand. I just don’t like talking about it.

You don’t like to admit weakness, Mipha signed solemnly, making Link shift in discomfort. You forget that it’s okay to be human. She gave him a small, weary smile of her own, and then tilted her head towards the jewelry shop. Urbosa went to watch Vah Naboris for a while, she’ll meet us when we leave. Let’s finish our errands.

Relieved at the change of subject, Link nodded, and the two of them started toward Starlight Memories.

Isha looked much happier than she had when they’d first encountered a few days before, and she actually grinned when she saw Link. “Link, little vai! You’re in luck, I was up late last night finishing the last of your order. Let me fit the circlet and you can collect them.”

Link gave her a small smile and a nod, coming the rest of the way in to let her fuss in clear pleasure, setting the ruby circlet on his head and then fiddling with the arms. Heat rushed back and forth over him, and he winced at Mipha, making her laugh quietly. Other than that, he waited patiently, barely repressing his eagerness.

Finally, Isha nodded and stepped back, looking pleased with herself. “That will do. Give me just a moment.” She left before he could even nod, returning a minute later with three pairs of earrings in the palm of her hand. “Here – one amber, one opal, and one topaz, just as you requested.”

Thank you, he signed without thinking, then took them and tilted his cupped hand back and forth to watch them sparkle in the light. He showed them to Mipha, who looked just as delighted, before finally tucking the topaz and opal earrings into his slate and swapping his conventional blue hoops for the amber.

Then he tapped around on the slate for a minute, released the three diamonds he’d collected, and showed them to Isha. Her eyes went briefly wide; she clearly hadn’t actually expected Link to be able to gather them so quickly. He waited, holding his breath nervously.

Almost as quickly, her expression turned calculating, and she lifted her gaze back to his hopeful face.

“You’re quite frightened of guardians, aren’t you, little vin?” she asked, and then, without waiting for an answer, “I have two diamond circlets still in stock. Give me the diamonds and the payment, and I’ll fit one of those to you instead of having you wait.”

He thanked her half a dozen times before they finally made the trade, and the diamond circlet went on and didn’t come off again.

Revali snorted when he saw it. “Quite the lavish accessory you’ve gotten for yourself,” he said tartly, turning his back before Link could reply with a dismissive flourish.

Link fidgeted, his contentment slipping out of him, but Daruk broke in before he could do more than reach to tug at the strap of his spaulder.

“Nothing beats the protective properties of a solid well-hewn gemstone!” he said cheerfully, loud enough that Link had to look up at him. Daruk grinned at him. “Used to be Gorons that made things like that, you know, but the Gerudo have always had a much more delicate hand with ‘em – us Gorons, ours are a little big for it.” He flexed his fingers, each one as thick as Link’s thigh. “And diamonds are the oldest magic there is – enchant it up a little and it’ll be better than any armor.”

Before he knew it, Link was almost smiling again, and when Daruk caught his eye he nodded firmly.

“I believe Isha’s grandmother, Jaiyun, was the Gerudo’s best jeweler before her,” Urbosa supplied without looking back. “Back in the day she ran a thriving business that spanned every major trade route in Hyrule; her main shop was in the Windvane Exchange, not Gerudo Town itself.” After a moment, Urbosa softened slightly and glanced back to meet his eyes. “It’s possible that her mother would have passed on the designs for Hylian hairpins.”

Link was frowning before he consciously registered the itch of memory. One of his hands wandered to twist one of the locks of hair framing his face. Urbosa pressed her lips together, pity flashing across her face.

“Hairstyling has always been of significant religious import in Hyrule,” she explained without waiting to be asked. “Both you and Zelda were always rather diligent about it.”

Link tugged at the lock of hair pensively for a few more moments, forcing himself to accept that he wasn’t going to remember anything else on his own, and then let go and nodded at Urbosa solemnly. She sighed and looked ahead again.

“Perhaps Hateno still has a temple you can attend,” she said dismissively, and Link tried not to hope too much.

It was still early in the evening when Link saw the skeleton, the fossilized remains of some large and breathtaking beast that made him slow to a stop without realizing it, eyes fixed on the massive skull, the huge curving ribs, the outstretched remains of a fin. The whipping sandstorm had hidden them right up until they were within yards, and they towered over him.

Revali grunted. “Yes,” he agreed, though Link hadn’t said anything; his voice was markedly softer than normal, as if in hushed deference to the resting place. “I almost didn’t see the fairy fountain past this beast. I suppose she must be using it as shelter from the sun and sand.”

Link hadn’t even noticed the fairy fountain, and it took a force of will to tear his gaze away from the towering skeleton to look inside at the closed up bulb within, pulsing gently with withered power.

“Or perhaps she wants to honor it,” Urbosa offered, just as soft. “I’ve been here before – the desert leviathan’s remains predate the Gerudo’s presence here by centuries. It’s conventional to pay tribute to the skeleton alongside the fairy.”

How? Link asked, and then glanced pleadingly at Mipha when Urbosa didn’t notice. Mipha relayed his question without hesitation, and Urbosa turned to look at him, faintly apologetic.

“Most often, people clean the leviathan of bugs and growth. The dirt and sand it collects is unavoidable, but there is no need to let it be consumed.”

Link nodded, determined, and then hauled himself up onto the skull to begin. As loathe as he had been to swap the diamond circlet for the sapphire so soon after finally getting it, he was sure he would be grateful for it while he worked.

“I’ve seen one of those myself, north of the mountain,” Daruk said, just loud enough to be heard over the sandstorm. “Never thought of sending people to pay respects.” He sighed. “Guess it doesn’t matter much these days anyway.”

“Take heart, Daruk,” Mipha murmured. “Hyrule will recover as it always has. Perhaps the tradition will be taken up then.”

“Heh. Yeah, you’re right, princess. I bet the Gorons back home’ll be finding that leviskeleton any day now.”

The four of them stood in line by the skull like guards standing vigil, and none of them said another word for as long as it took Link to dig the rooted plants and bug nests out of the leviathan’s joints.

It was then, and only then, that Link finally slid off the enormous spine, landing with a thump in the sand below, and approached the fairy fountain, slow and respectful.

The other four took it as their cue to come inside, spreading out to each examine something different, but Link didn’t take his eyes off the throbbing bud in front of him. Safflina of every color surrounded it, swaying gently in the breeze drifting in through the leviathan’s bones, and as Link came closer, little glowing fairies popped out of the tangled stems, wings fluttering.

He hummed softly, aiming for soothing, and didn’t halt his progress until he reached the fungal pedestal leading up to the fountain. Without hesitation, he knelt down and waited.

“Girl…?” the fairy murmured, sleepy surprise coating her voice. She parted the petals, peeking out with squinting, weary eyes Link could barely make out. “Oh, sweet girl… Won’t you help a withered spirit?” Link nodded, beckoning her out encouragingly. “Oh, kind girl… I am the Great Fairy Tera, but my form has shrunken with neglect and disuse. Please, child, I require the rupees once sacrificed to me to become whole.”

Link nodded again, confidently reached for his slate, and then set a clean orange rupee in the hand already reaching out of the bud. It closed around the gem and snapped back inside, and the bud convulsed.

“Please…” the fairy begged, voice thick with longing and something like pain. “More… I need more… five… five hundred rupees to become myself again…”

Link blinked, feeling himself go faintly pale.

He hadn’t thought of Tera requiring a different amount; he’d reserved a hundred rupees for the same offering he’d given Cotera, but the rest had gone to… He bit his tongue, frustrated.

It took some fumbling to get the Sheikah Slate and tap out his response. “I apologize. I’ll get it for you.”

“I believe you,” the fairy sighed, and the bud closed again.

Angry with himself, Link spun around on the platform, still sitting down, and exhaled heavily. The soft chime of little fairies brought his gaze back up only a second later, and three of them, holding hands, whispered at him, inaudible but sweet. Tiredly, he blew a kiss, and all three giggled.

The first one hummed a few bars of a song Link recognized somewhere in his heart, and then bowed, let go of her sister’s hand, and disappeared into his Sheikah Slate. On the other end, the third let go, darted forward to tangle her fingers in his hair, and murmured something he couldn’t make out before doing the same.

The second, left alone in the middle, just clasped her hands together in prayer, bowed like the first with her wings flashing and sparkling, and then skipped forward to whirl around him, trailing fairy dust.

Aches and draining burns that he’d long since tuned out disappeared, easing some of the tension from his shoulders, and he felt his head tip a little, wistful and dreamlike.

Finally, he looked up, finding Urbosa’s gaze and raised eyebrows, and asked, Is there another molduga nearby?

You need to take a break, Mipha insisted, keeping easy pace with Link while he kept going. Link shook his head. It’s okay to take a break. You’re still getting tired easily. Are you hurting? Are you sick?

I’m fine, Link signed sharply, reaching up to push his hair out of his face, and tried to ignore the flash of startled hurt on Mipha’s face. It was getting late again, and he’d swapped sapphire for ruby, his spaulder for a tunic. If I hadn’t been so damn eager, I could’ve taken my time, but I had to get…

He trailed off, frustrated, and reached up to tug angrily at his hair. The rush of sand hurt his ears. He could hear buzzing electricity from the wandering lizalfos.

Stop that, Mipha returned sternly. You didn’t know you would need more, and you worked for that protection. You wanted it and you earned it, and you don’t need to hurt yourself to earn it again.

I’m not hurting myself, Link snapped, even though his scars burned with exertion and overuse, and if it weren’t dark Mipha could probably see that he was pale with pain and the nauseating hyperawareness of his body.

“What are you two talking about?” Urbosa asked, sharp and attentive, and Mipha frowned briefly at Link before turning to Urbosa. His eyes went wide.

A short, harsh growl left Link’s mouth before he could stop it, panicked and raw. Mipha’s mouth snapped shut, her expression melting into something apologetic and miserable, and she looked away. Link sat down hard, panting a little, and the others slowed to a stop around him, because he always slowed them down.

I’m sorry, he signed at last, unable to get Mipha’s hurt expression out of his head. I just hate it. I hate it. I’m fine.

“I know,” Mipha murmured, so soft Link could barely hear it. “I’m sorry, I know.”

Urbosa glanced from Mipha to Link, suspicion creeping into her expression, and Link ducked away from her dawning realization, scratching unhappily at the rougher skin of his arms.

“This is about your fatigue cracks, ain’t it?” Daruk said sympathetically, giving Link a crooked smile when he looked up, startled. Link tugged at his ear unhappily, and Daruk switched fluidly to sign without changing expression. You see it in Gorons who’ve been in cave-ins or talus fights sometimes, cracks in their shoulder or their back, never quite heal up. Can hurt something fierce. I was wondering how bad you’d get them from those burns.

Link blinked at him dumbly, and Daruk’s expression softened.

Don’t worry about it, little brother. Plenty good warriors get ‘em, and Hylians are squishy. Nothing to be ashamed of. You take a break, I hear the stars are beautiful out here. I know some stories about ‘em too, you always liked those.

Looking for sanity, Link glanced uncertainly at Revali, who ruffled his feathers and scoffed almost on cue.

“You don’t fly with broken wings,” he bit out quietly, which was about as much of a concession as Link was likely to get, and finally, he sighed, deflated in what felt oddly like defeat, and nodded meekly.

Two hours later, Link presented his offering to Tera, and smiled tiredly as she burst gleefully from the fountain, splashing sacred water all over the sand.

Chapter Text

At some point during the wee hours of the morning, Link got himself to the goddess statue; he thought Mipha might have led him there. He curled up next to it and pressed his forehead against the warm stone, shutting out as much input as he could, grateful for the reprieve; it was the only quiet part of Gerudo Town. His skin throbbed painfully, angry at the abuse it had taken over the last day. His breathing rasped loudly in his ears.

Muava found him there a couple hours later, and it was the persistent tapping of her finger by his face that finally made him pry himself away just enough to look at her. The high-pitched, hysterical screeching of overstimulation had calmed in the last few hours, and the throbbing had calmed into an acute soreness, but both had left him exhausted, and he didn’t want to move.

She grinned at him, unfazed.

“Overwhelmed, eh?” she teased gently, and then shoved a bowl into his hands, which he fumbled with before his grip steadied. “Eat this, you silly little vin. Gerudo town special.”

Link looked down at it, and then took the spoon and started eating the simmered fruit halfheartedly.

On his other side, Mipha let out an audible and obvious sigh of relief. To Link’s surprise, one from Urbosa followed not a half-second later, and he glanced up to find her relaxing against the wall, watching him solemnly, looking almost as tired as he felt.

He ate.

It took him a few minutes to finish, but he finally looked up at Muava and signed a shaky thanks, pushing the bowl across the goddess statue again. She took it and tossed it aside carelessly – he winced involuntarily at the loud clatter – and snorted at him.

“You don’t have to do everything in a week, little vai,” Muava chided, keeping her voice uncharacteristically soft. “There’s no limit on your stay here, you know. Brings in money for the town.”

Link made a disconsolate little mumbling sound, unwilling to put more effort into replying. To explain why he needed to keep moving.

Muava hummed at him, faintly reproving, but sat back and opened her book, leaving Link to a few more minutes of quiet. He sighed and settled against the wall again, resenting his weakness, the rawness of his skin and his emotions, and too much more to say.

It was a while later that Urbosa crouched in front of him, snapping softly, and he blinked his eyes open again and looked at her. Without a word, she sat down in front of him and started moving through stretches. After a moment of blank incomprehension, Link recognized them and started to follow along, clenching his jaw against a whine at the pull and sting.

Once Urbosa had finished running through the stretches with him and went to check in with Revali and Daruk, Mipha tapped his Sheikah Slate until he grabbed the ointment Zayla had shown him how to make, and then silently walked him through applying it. It was cool to the touch, and it sank into his skin, tingling faintly. And it did feel a little better after.

At noon he knelt in front of the goddess statue, prayed, and then turned to Muava and offered her a plate of fruit-and-mushroom skewers to share with him, which she accepted with clear pleasure.

It was at the end of that that he finally wiped his hands, opened the communication rune, and told her, “I’m leaving today.” He glanced up and indicated the direction of Kara Kara, though he doubted it mattered very much.

Muava’s expression softened. “Of course. Safe travels, little vai,” she murmured, and squeezed his forearm before he stood.

Link nodded, waved, and left out the side gate nearby.

He didn’t notice the soulmark until later – nothing dark or deep, just the faintest imprint of a tangerine handprint on his skin, barely a shade or two darker than the remains of the soulmark he had from Zelda.

The second-last shrine that Urbosa knew of in the area was the one associated with the sand seal races, which were on hiatus for as long as it took Vah Naboris to calm down; he marked it on his map for later and went towards Kara Kara. He’d promised to visit Vilia before he left, after all.

Stop laughing at me, he signed at Mipha, smiling faintly despite himself as she kept giggling.

“I’m sorry,” she managed, voice still blessedly soft. “Some of your tasks are so silly, Link.”

He shrugged, not bothering to hide his own amusement, and dropped by the monster camp that was threateningly close to the trail to carefully snipe the monsters inside before he swept up the spoils and kept going.

Vilia was on the roof again. He climbed up to sit beside her, a little closer than he had before, and she was already perking up a little as she turned towards him, eyes glittering.

It is good to see you, she greeted carefully, turning easily away from Naboris to look at him instead. Does this mean you leave soon?

Link nodded. I’ll visit again, he promised. He had liked Gerudo Town. Maybe I’ll buy another set of clothes sometime. These are very nice.

Vilia’s eyes crinkled. Thank you. Where are you going next?

Faron, Link answered instantly, nodding off past Vah Naboris. I’ll be making my way towards the eastern coast. Akkala, ultimately. Tera had kept better track of her sisters than Cotera had.

That should take you through wonderful places, Vilia said, with clear wistfulness. I do not travel; I prefer my home. But you will have fun.

Link hummed softly, and Vilia hesitated before continuing.

But that is not why you travel, she prompted. Link stiffened a little, and Vilia said gently, You are a soldier. I recognize it. Why do you travel?

Link remained tense for a minute longer before exhaling, turning over his hand to examine the covered back before he signed. I’m gathering strength, he answered shortly, unwilling to elaborate any more than that.

Vilia reached for his hand, brushing back the silken covering, and while Link stiffened he didn’t pull away. With the veil pushed aside, they could both see that the triforce mark on Link’s hand was easily twice as vivid as it had been when he first arrived.

“So you are,” Vilia murmured, and then let go, allowing him to pull his hand back sharply. I apologize. I had started to wonder if I was dreaming. The man my grandfather knew had the same mark. By legend, it is the soulmark of Hylia.

Link had to stop himself from visibly reacting, and he wasn’t sure he entirely succeeded. If so, though, Vilia did not seem to notice.

There were only three people in the world who ever had this mark on their hand. At least, according to legend. One most often a woman, one who had long since degraded to malice, and…

Could you make fingerless gloves? he asked impulsively, and she considered him for a moment, eyes hooded and solemn, and then nodded.

It would take a few hours, she warned, but he nodded without hesitation, and once again they moved inside.

In her tailor shop, she removed her veil to see better, and then started measuring and moving his hands, lips pursed. “I recognize the sword calluses. Do you use a bow as well?” Link nodded. “I will be cautious with the range of motion. Will you be climbing?” Another nod. “A sturdy cloth, then. Does one-fifty at a rush sound fair?”

Link nodded and watched her hands as she worked, taking in the different marks on them – a number of different smears of different hues and shades on her hands, a deep blue patch on her jaw, a handprint on her forearm.

There were a few moments between her letting go of his hands and turning away to rummage through cloth, and he took the chance to ask, Who are your colors? And he hadn’t even realized that was how to phrase that question until he was already asking.

Vilia paused to give him a fond look before completing the motion, digging through her stock. “The one on my jaw is from my grandfather – that was the first dark soulmark I ever received. He raised me more than my parents ever did.”

She laid out a couple bolts of cloth and cocked an eyebrow at him, and he felt each of them before tapping a soft but sturdy forest green fabric. She nodded distractedly, put the others away, and started to mark out lines.

“The handprint is from a Gerudo guard, Ashai – did you meet her?” Link nodded. “She’s quite a wonderful teacher, made sure I had at least working knowledge of a scimitar. A woman has to be able to defend herself, especially one like me.” Vilia gave him a faint smile. “I really did get the unlucky end of Hylian genes… Anyway, Ashai has always been a dear friend.”

Link wondered if Ashai had taught Vilia how to cook as well.

“Do you see the little bright mark in the crook of my thumb? Yes? There’s a little child who spends time by one of the fountains, always quite sweet…”

Vilia continued on for a while, checking off each of her marks with steady warmth, and it was only as she was moving on to start sewing the fabric together that she asked, “And yours, little vai?”

Link smiled at her before he could consciously register his pleasure, moved so she could see his hands better, and started to tell her about Koko, and Beedle, Muava, Sesami and his friends…

He left out Zelda and he knew Vilia noticed the absence, but thankfully she didn’t ask.

He wished he could tell her about Mipha and Daruk and Urbosa and Revali too, but, well… none of them had left marks, and that… that was… strange. It left a sick feeling in his stomach and he didn’t want to try to explain.

Mipha came in to check on them eventually, her expression softening with sympathy when she discovered what Vilia was sewing.

Good, she signed solemnly, when she caught his eye. You deserve to feel safe.

Tension he hadn’t even noticed drained out of him, an odd relief making his head spin, and he had to look away. He started to stretch, remembering what Zayla had said, and Vilia continued to work, brow furrowed in concentration as her fingers flicked the needle around with practiced precision.

An hour later, Vilia sat back, stretched, and gave Link a pleased smile.

“See how these fit,” she instructed, nodding to the finished product.

Link was reaching for them before she’d finished speaking, pulling them over his hands and then flexing them, turning them over to examine the backs, already nodding his approval. They moved well with his hands, left his fingers free, and the material was nice. Though…

He turned them both inside out and indicated the seams apologetically, then put them down and asked, Can you trim the seams? They’ll start to sting after a while. It had made the Sheikah gloves uncomfortable enough that he’d taken them off.

Vilia cocked an eyebrow, but obeyed, handing them back just a minute later. He tried them on again, let a flicker of a smile cross his face, and nodded.

Thank you, he signed with pleasure, turning them over to admire them. These are perfect.

Vilia hummed contentedly, and then said, Enjoy your travels, take care of yourself, and make sure to come by again.

Link nodded firmly, paid for the gloves, and pulled them on as he left, shaking himself off to prepare for the next leg of the journey. The others were gathered by the water hole again, talking quietly, and he caught snatches of what sounded like an argument about weapons maintenance before he got close enough to laugh at them.

“Finally on our way out!” Daruk exclaimed, shoving to his feet with clear enthusiasm. “No offense, Urbosa, the desert’s great, but it’ll be nice to see more of our little rock. Spent more time apart than together this last week.”

Link surprised himself with the warmth that flashed through him at that, and instead tilted his head towards the east, where Urbosa had promised to lead the way to the desert labyrinth.

“I suppose I’m going to get stuck with the work of leading you through the maze,” Revali griped, shuffling distastefully over the sand and then turning to give Link an unimpressed look. Link snorted at him and shook his head, and both Revali’s eyebrows rose. “No? It would certainly speed things along.”

Link stuck his tongue out at him, trying not to smirk at Revali’s affronted expression.

You wouldn’t let anyone help you with your trials, would you? Link challenged, knowing Revali more than well enough by now to be sure of that. Why would I?

Something unreadable flickered across Revali’s face, but in the next second he warmed and softened noticeably, snorting as he dropped in close to Link. “Well, I suppose your integrity is one of your more obnoxiously present characteristics.”

Link and Mipha shared a roll of their eyes, and Urbosa was smiling when she clicked her tongue for attention.

“Are we planning on getting to the labyrinth sometime today or not?” she asked archly, and didn’t wait for an answer before turning away.

There was something precious about the quiet of the labyrinth.

It’s a shrine, Link signed with certainty, as soon as they set foot in the area.

“How do you know?” Urbosa asked, arching her eyebrows at him, though there wasn’t a trace of doubt in her tone. Link tapped his head.

There was a monk, he explained, starting forward and looking back and forth to get a feel for the area. And then, Can you meet me back here when I’m done?

Mipha was the only one who didn’t look surprised – Mipha and, he realized after a moment, Revali, who snorted softly.

“A week in civilization was too much for you, hm?” he scoffed, and then, “I suppose I’m damned to be a scout for the rest of eternity anyway. Please, don’t hurry on our account. We’re only in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to do, waiting on you to finish your tasks...”

Link pushed down the urge to stick his tongue out at him again. It’s a labyrinth twice the size of a city. How quickly do you think I can possibly get through?

Revali groaned dramatically, but Mipha just gave him a small smile.

“We’ll be here,” she promised.

Daruk nodded his agreement. “Don’t forget to eat your rocks, little brother. Faron doesn’t have any good deposits, so it might be the last you see of them for a while.”

“Do not eat rocks,” Mipha countered immediately, but Link just gave Daruk a solemn nod and a thumbs up, and then continued on into the labyrinth alone, taking a random dive into the twisted corridors.

Link loved his friends, but the quiet isolation was blessed. Link was exhausted.

Chapter Text

There was something about being bundled up on top of a mountain, sitting by a fire reading an aged research log in a broken-down cabin, that made Link feel almost at home. Like this was how things were supposed to be.

There were only about two weeks’ worth of research logs in the notebook, by Link’s estimation, maybe more if they weren’t evenly spaced out. Most of them were just quotes from an unspecified source text and the researcher’s frustrated ramblings, trial and error and mysteries, but flipping through it had Link nodding along, thoughtful and slow.

He glanced up when Revali got back from wherever he’d gone off to. I’m starting to wonder whether you’re easily bored or just a mother hen.

Revali scowled at him, clearly offended. “I’m so sorry that I have better things to do than watch you flip through the same moth-eaten paper a dozen times over. Am I mistaken, or do you not want to know about the guardians wandering nearby after all?”

Link’s smile disappeared, and he swallowed, feeling a biting cold that had nothing to do with the snowy mountain they rested on. Revali sighed.

“Yes, alright, that wasn’t funny,” Revali acknowledged, as close to an apology as he was likely to get. “Show me your map.”

Hands trembling faintly, Link did, and Revali pointed out a few locations nearby where live guardians were active. Then he indicated a nearby valley as well.

“Lynels,” Revali said flatly. “In your heyday they wouldn’t have given you any trouble, but I suspect you haven’t precisely built up your old strength yet, so you’ll go far around if you know what’s good for you.”

Link nodded, hesitantly adding stamps onto his map at the points Revali had indicated. Urbosa caught his eye when he looked up, legs folded where she was watching the desert again.

“There’s no shame in recovery,” she said, quiet and faintly resigned. “None of us expected you to wake up already slaughtering lynels in their dozens.” A pause, and then she surrendered a small, self-recriminating smile. “At least, not consciously. But you always did seem rather invulnerable back in the day.”

Link shrugged, looking down at the journal and then up to the inert pedestal. A snowball sat not far away, ready to be moved when the time came.

I don’t think that worked out very well, he said, eyes fixed on the pedestal.

Urbosa snorted loudly. “No, I suppose not. What are you going to do if you’re wrong about this shrine puzzle?”

Wait another twenty-four hours, Link said wryly, setting the research log back on the stump it came from. …How did you know it was me you were looking for? When you were looking for the soul of the hero.

There was a short pause, and it was eventually Mipha who answered, soft and sure. “They didn’t at first, Link. You made yourself impossible to ignore through by virtue of your own skill. And then one day you drew the sword.”

Link closed his eyes. A flash of a purple hilt, a blade glowing with sacred light, the top of a tiered staircase high above an abyss.

He wondered if it would be petty to ask Mipha to tell him about his sword.

When he opened his eyes again, Mipha was studying him, and in the end she didn’t even wait to be asked.

“I always thought it was interesting that you would use the animate sign pronoun for your sword,” Mipha said quietly. “You talked about her with such affection, even when you warned people that she was hostile, or spoke about proving yourself to her. You used another sword to spar because you said that she didn’t know how to play nice.”

Link exhaled softly, unable to bring himself to smile. Hostile? he asked, hoping that Mipha would understand his reaction was not out of a lack of gratitude, only a sudden exhaustion.

She might have, because her voice gentled noticeably. “Yes. At some point over the centuries, the sacred sword became so blessed that no one but her chosen wielder could touch her. Anyone else suffers great harm. You’ve implied before that you were… not two halves of a whole, but symbiotic. Greater than the sum of your parts.”

I don’t remember, Link signed helplessly, before he could think better of it.

There was a beat of silence, awkward and heavy, and Link picked up the research log just to flip through it again. Eventually, Daruk cleared his throat.

“Little guy,” he said quietly, and then, with decisiveness, “Link.”

Hesitantly, Link looked up. Daruk looked… more sober, than Link usually saw him.

“It’s been just about a month now, hasn’t it?” Link nodded. “You remembered anything?”

Fragments, Link answered shortly. The hilt of my sword, the name of my horse. Zelda likes legends.

He hoped Daruk didn’t start pushing him to remember more, because Link felt a little like that might be enough to break him. Link had tried to remember, spent hours and hours at it – he just couldn’t.

“That’s gotta be tough,” Daruk said instead, steady and solemn. Link went still. “Does it scare you?”

Link’s breath hitched, and he didn’t want to move. He shrugged uncomfortably.

Daruk didn’t move, seemingly content to wait him out, and Mipha was looking at him now too, expression soft with genuine concern. Revali shifted, obviously discomfited, but Urbosa actually reached out and pinched him disapprovingly. Link wanted to laugh, but seemed to have temporarily forgotten how.

I want to remember, he signed at last, stilted. I wish I remembered.

“Of course you do,” Mipha murmured soothingly.

“Big jobs are easier with a solid foundation,” Daruk added, giving Link a gentle, wry smile. “I bet it’s been hard for you to find that, huh?” Link stared at him, wide-eyed. Daruk shrugged, expression easing into a more casual grin. “I’ve been thinking a lot over the last week or so, that’s all. Anything I can do to help, just ask.”

Link swallowed, fidgeting with the book in his hands, and then finally signed slowly, watching Daruk like a hawk, It’s like I was born in that cave, and everyone already knew what I had to be. And I’m not. And I don’t know how to fix it, because I don’t remember what I’m aiming for.

Daruk nodded, slow and thoughtful like he was actually listening, and then turned toward Link to sign back. You’re not the same person, but you don’t know how to tell people that, because you can’t remember who you used to be.

Link wasn’t expecting the rush of relief, so strong he had to bite down a gasp. He nodded quickly, tucking his hands close to his body as if to keep them from shaking.

Daruk grinned at him, familiar and comforting. Then I guess we’ll be trying to figure out who you are now all together.

Link huffed breathlessly, relaxing a little even as he shrugged, a small smile playing around his mouth. Urbosa cleared her throat, and he was already tensing back up as he looked over, but when he found her, her expression was softer than he’d perhaps ever seen it.

Have you considered talking to I-Spell about this? she asked, and then added, I-m-p-a.

Link blinked, and then shook his head fiercely. When he refocused, everyone looked surprised, Urbosa’s eyebrows high on her face.

Why not? Urbosa asked, carefully nonjudgemental. Link tilted his head, unsure.

She’s not my friend, he answered at last. Urbosa gestured for him to go on, and he clarified hesitantly, She’s kind. I appreciate her letting me have time. But she told me not to come back until I was ready to begin. She said it was a blessing that I’d lost my memory. She wasn’t glad to see me. She’s not my friend.

Urbosa’s expression turned pensive. She nodded. That is fair. I hadn’t considered it from that perspective. Very well. As Daruk said, all you have to do is ask.

Link smiled, small and almost bashfully pleased, and waited for the shrine pedestal to glow. When he glanced up again, Mipha was watching him, and when he caught her eye, she gave him a smile of her own.

I am always here for you, Link.

It was a promise that, somehow, he felt down to his soul.

Link reached Highland Stable in the early evening, explored the shrine just beside it, and started feeding a drumstick to the stable’s eager guard dog before someone came to talk to him. It was one of the stable hands, with such a bashful and uncertain expression that he found himself patting the grass beside him before he could even wonder what she wanted.

She sat beside him and asked, clearly embarrassed and just as clearly hopeful, “Are you a swordsman?”

Link nodded without hesitation and bit into his skewer, already preparing himself to go back out again. She looked relieved.

“My name is Perosa, I’ve worked here at this stable my whole life.” She gestured, not at the stable, but out at the field beyond it. “There’s always been that herd of mounted bokoblin clogging up the road, and it makes trade difficult every blood moon. I wouldn’t normally want to bother you, people know to expect them, but…”

She faltered, and Link nodded encouragingly.

“The doctor’s due to come by in a few days,” Perosa continued, determined, “and we’re all out of healing elixirs. Oliff came by a couple weeks ago, he probably won’t be by for at least another month or two, and the Gerudo have been so busy that they don’t come by often anymore. We don’t really have anyone else to ask.”

Link nodded without hesitation, rising to his feet. He brushed the grease off his fingers, grabbed his slate, and asked, “Are? Elixirs. Urgent.”

Perosa shook her head. “But we get a lot of injured travelers passing through. They’re good to have. Please, if you can…”

Link gave her a solemn nod, patted the dog and smiled when it licked his hand, and then turned away to head up the road, waving to Daruk to signal that he was going. The others caught up in only a minute, of course.

“Got another rescue mission?” Daruk asked with obvious fondness. Link smiled a little, but shook his head.

Clearing the road, he answered, his eyes catching wistfully on the herd of horses grazing by the pond before he looked ahead. Stable hand says there’s a doctor coming through, so I want to make it easy for them. If I start now I’ll have some time to explore too.

“And if you catch them away from the stable, you might even get some questions in,” Mipha pointed out gently. Link looked away, but she was already waving a hand before he could reply. “No, I understand – it’s embarrassing to ask me, isn’t it?”

Her smile was tinged with self-recrimination, so he tried to be gentle as he replied. It’s easier with someone who doesn’t know me well, yes.

Mipha nodded, relaxing a little, and Revali cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me, but would someone explain to the local voe who missed some things why Link is talking to a doctor?”

It’s not important, Link dismissed instantly, face heating up uncomfortably. I’m not asking them for anything, I just have some questions. I’m not asking them for anything.

He darted on ahead before anyone could point out the unnecessary repetition, and as soon as he spotted the bokoblin herd Perosa had mentioned, he climbed up into a tree to wait. None of the others pressed him, instead fanning out to keep watch, and slowly, he relaxed, embarrassed with himself.

He watched the herd until it came close enough to aim at, and then drew his bow, nocking an arrow to sight down carefully, clenching his jaw against the pull of his shoulder. He wouldn’t want to hurt the horses by accident.

The next few days were surprisingly easy, just a slow exploration through the area, winding up the road. He stopped halfway to Lake Hylia to explore the edge of Faron Woods, gathering crickets and frogs and mushrooms. Cleared out octoroks and blue chuchus and harvested the parts. He climbed trees for eggs and butchered a deer and washed himself in the pond, and no one asked him what he wanted to talk to the doctor about.

The next day he cleared the large monster encampment at the base of the Lake Tower, picking the monsters off a few at a time over the course of hours, and climbed the tower itself so he could map out the area. He stamped the shrines he could make out in the distance, and stared at the castle for a while before climbing down again.

It was easy; it was calming and familiar.

He cleared the bridge too, picking off the lizalfos keeping watch over the broken and rotting wagon in the middle, and picked through the remains for a while, curious and pensive by turns. Then he turned and pulled himself onto the edge, and it was a while before anyone approached him after that.

“I suppose we should just be happy it’s intact,” Urbosa murmured solemnly, assessing gaze sweeping up and down the length of the great stone structure.

The bridge must have been busy, once; they all seemed unhappy to see it like this. It was probably good that there would only be another day or two before the doctor came by.

He didn’t like to see his friends so sad.

“Do you like bananas?”

A chill went down Link’s spine, and he was already reaching for his sword as he turned around. A traveler was giving him a friendly smile, standing a little too close. Link shook his head, easing slowly off the short bridge wall.

“That’s a shame,” the traveler sighed. “But not everyone can have good taste.”

Link tensed, his intuition ringing.

“Shield!” Urbosa snapped out, and before Link could think about it, he was already bringing up his borrowed Gerudo shield to block the swipe of the hooked Yiga weapon lashing out at him.

It was a short scuffle; Link wasn’t as caught off-guard this time as he had been the previous, but his heart was still racing as the two of them tussled, the transformed Yiga reaching for their blade as Link kept them from getting to it.

There was something mad in the gleam of their eyes, a hatred that threatened to cut Link to his core, and it gave him a strength born of pure adrenaline as he shoved his knee into their gut.

Eventually, Link got enough of a hold on the blade to drive it into their shoulder, and they cried out and puffed away, leaving him pushing himself upright, panting quietly.

It didn’t make sense. Didn’t make sense.

Didn’t make sense.

“Easy, Link,” Mipha soothed quietly, crouching beside him. “Why don’t you get off the road? There might be more shrines nearby if you look.”

Link gestured incoherently, and then sat back on his heels and shook his head, unreasonably confused. He still felt out of breath, even though the fight had been so short.

What did I do? he asked at last, plaintive.

“You didn’t do anything,” Urbosa said firmly. “They serve the Calamity. That’s all they – or you – need to know.”

Link looked out towards the castle, towards the swirl of awful malice that surrounded it, and swallowed. He couldn’t imagine looking at that and being comforted by it. Loyal to it. All the sight stirred up in him was an icy dread in the pit of his stomach.

“It’s astonishing what bitterness can do,” Revali agreed coldly, and then jerked his head. “Come. We can wait on the side of the bridge.”

Link nodded distractedly, turning to head back to the southern end of the bridge, and, trying to get his mind away from the encounter, asked Mipha, Did I used to like swimming?

Mipha paused for a split second, and then nodded, eyes on him. “We would swim together sometimes. Perhaps we can try again soon.”

“Swim together, hm?” Daruk teased, only a hint of strain in the edges of his expression. Neither of them graced him with a response, and he laughed anyway. “There should be some rivers off in Faron. Plenty of time to try.”

Link nodded again, trying to smile. Maybe, he echoed vaguely.

He stayed out of sight of the road for the next few hours, mostly raiding the broken remains of the monster camp around the Lake Tower. Revali kept an eye on it for him instead, which Link was grateful for – it would be silly to let the doctor pass by unnoticed after all this effort.

“She’s here,” Revali called out in the late evening, making Link poke his head up from the wooden walls.

He followed Revali’s nod down to the distant figure of a Rito, working her slow way down the path, clearly ready to take flight at any moment should it prove necessary. Her feathers were a pale peach, dirty from the road, and she was weighed down by a pack that was almost certainly too heavy to easily fly with.

Link darted down the hill towards her, and was gratified when the others kept their distance. She started violently as he came into sight, her feathers taking a minute to smooth back down, and he gave her a sheepish wave, deliberately slowing down as he caught up.

Sorry for startling you, he said. Do you know sign?

“I’m afraid it’s not easy for Rito to learn,” she said apologetically. “I know very little. Did you need something?”

Link made a swift so-so motion with one hand, reaching for his slate to work through it for a minute, easily keeping pace with the Rito despite his distraction. She waited patiently, one eyebrow arching high.

“I have monster parts to trade,” he said at last, pleased at the ease of use. “And questions.”

The Rito hummed, eying him appraisingly. “Ah, and I assume you don’t want to wait until we reach the stable to ask these questions?”

Link shook his head violently, and silently asked her to wait while he added something else. “I cleared the road. No monsters. Can we talk in the forest.”

The Rito sighed and gave him a faintly weary smile. “Yes, all right. Goodness knows I won’t be reaching the stable tonight anyway. I appreciate you clearing the path.” She patted her bag. “This is a little heavy to make a fast getaway with.”

Link smiled at her gratefully, and she looked him over, clearly assessing.

“You don’t appear injured, and you must be a swordsman if you truly cleared the path – ah, are you the young man Beedle has been getting parts from lately? Link?” Link nodded, and the Rito gave him another, more genuinely pleased smile. “My name is Guinevere. It’s very good to meet you.”

The two of them went quiet after that, winding their way down the road. Link kept an eye out each way, but no one else came by, and there were no monsters in sight. Good.

Night had fallen by the time they reached Faron Woods, and Link set up camp the way he’d started to get used to, the few times he didn’t reach a stable in time. He showed Guinevere a few ingredients, meat and peppers and ironshrooms, and waited for her grateful nod before he assembled two sets of skewers from them, letting them roast by the fire before he reached for his slate again.

“Is now okay,” he asked, not wanting to be a bother. Guinevere gave him a weary smile and nodded, gesturing for him to go on. He fidgeted a little, flicking through his slate as he tried to find a good way to explain, and settled on, “I have. Painful. Scars. Gerudo doctor suggested help.”

Guinevere clicked her beak thoughtfully, brow wrinkling. “Willow bark? Lynel’s Mane tea, perhaps kooloo-limpah?” She was already reaching for her bag.

“Ralis root,” Link corrected. Both her eyebrows rose. He added, as quickly as he could, “I don’t want any. I have questions.”

There was an undercurrent of pity in her eyes that made him uncomfortable. “Are you sure? Zayla doesn’t recommend ralis root lightly, and your work is hardly going to be easy on your body.”

“I have questions,” he repeated insistently, and she sighed and nodded. “Side effects.”

Guinevere hummed a few notes of absent birdsong, eyes on the fire. “Ralis root… Well, ralis root is a moderate strength painkiller, so not as many as you might worry about. Some dizziness with enough blood loss, loss of appetite, itching if you’re unlucky, but you’ll retain the use of your faculties, if that’s your concern.”

Link nodded, some of the tension easing out of him. “Where is it?”

Guinevere tapped the ground beside her, slow and thoughtful. “Ralis root grows primarily in shallow water, in the Lanayru Wetlands and around Ralis Pond and Ruto Lake. The main body of the plant resembles bulrush, but the flowers excrete a thick, toxic blue nectar.”

Link navigated through the slate a little more, scowling as he failed to find anything that approximated his question well. He put it in manually instead, listening to the slight distortion of Zelda’s voice as she asked for him, “What parts of the plant do need to I use?”

Guinevere cocked her head at him, contemplative. “Do you prefer to gather your own supplies?” she asked, her voice softened a little. He nodded, not looking at her. “You use the little clusters of nubs off the roots – you’ll need to be very careful digging them up, they’re a touch fragile. Roast them in a cooking pot, crush, and take orally, about a spoonful to a dose.”

Link nodded along, navigating through his tablet to take notes before he returned to the communication rune. “Alternatives.”

Guinevere sighed heavily, and he winced, glancing up with some embarrassment.

But she didn’t look. Annoyed. Just tired.

“Zayla is extremely conservative with her recommendations,” Guinevere said gently. “Her and I have somewhat different standards. To properly make my own, I would prefer to examine the scarring myself. Is that alright?”

Link hesitated, reaching out to fumble with the skewers and turn them over before he answered. He couldn’t explain his discomfort, even to himself; he’d been basically putting them on display the entire time he was in Gerudo Town, so why be shy now?

“They are. All over,” he said stiltedly. “Is that okay?”

Guinevere’s brow creased again, but she answered, “I would appreciate being able to examine the full extent of the injury, but I won’t force you if you’re uncomfortable.”

Link fidgeted a little, and then shook his head. They were in the middle of the forest; he didn’t want to take everything off. He did reluctantly start to undo the buckles and buttons of his tunic, appreciating the way Guinevere looked away while he did. Then he pulled up the legs of his trousers, grunting as he tried to get them over his knees; he left his boots on, hiding some of the burns on his feet and ankles, but he figured she’d get the idea.

He cleared his throat softly when he was done, rubbing gingerly at his shoulder, and winced when Guinevere inhaled sharply. But that was the extent of her reaction, scooting forward to examine him closer.

It was Guinevere asking questions for the next several minutes – some of them the same ones Zayla had asked him, about range of motion and limited activity, and some of them simpler. If it was hard to sleep, if it changed with the weather, if it got bad enough he was unable to focus on anything else.

He answered the best he could, easing up a little over time as she remained professional. She’d probably seen worse before, anyway, working as a traveling doctor in a place so full of monsters.

“Some people have had great success with kooloo-limpah, but it affects everyone differently,” Guinevere said at last, sitting back on her heels to mull the question over. “You would have to experiment. Hylian lavender is as powerful as it gets, but it will make you quite sleepy, so it’s best reserved for places of safety and when in severe pain. And minish seed is quite nearly as strong as lavender, but it will make you rather dotty.”

“Thank you,” Link answered, adding those notes into his slate. “Plants.”

Happily, she understood that as being the same question as before, and gestured for him to put his tunic back on as she answered – Hylian lavender was a tincture made from the flower of the plant, kooloo-limpah was a smoked seed from a bright yellow fruit, minish seed was roasted and eaten like ralis root and found in little pods like chestnuts.

He had to ask her to repeat herself a few times as he noted it all down, too focused to be embarrassed now, and she was gratifyingly patient as she did, even adding details as she remembered them.

By the time he was done writing all that down, the skewers were done. He grabbed them and offered one to Guinevere, who took it with a nod.

“Was that all you needed, dear?” she asked kindly, and he shook his head even as he bit down into his food, tapping through the slate with the other.

“Fighting,” he said, and when she didn’t seem to understand, expanded more carefully, “Stiff. Pain. Help.”

Guinevere hummed in understand, nibbling on her food contemplatively. “A salve of cool safflina and blue chu jelly should help with that, as long as you apply it regularly. Smotherwing butterflies mixed with red chu jelly may also be useful to you if you’re expecially stiff, but it’s likely to sting.”

Link nodded thoughtfully, and then prompted, “Plants. Fighting.”

“Only on ralis root, and only if you’re otherwise well,” Guinevere answered firmly, without hesitation. “Monsters around here are too vicious to risk going against with anything less than full awareness.”

Link gave her a small, thankful smile, glad for her openness, and spent a few minutes trying to formulate the next question. She waited patiently, eating her way through most of the rest of her skewer in the meantime.

“I fight often. What if I get hurt again.”

Guinevere gave him a lingering, contemplative look. “Are you wondering about complications involved in re-injuring the area?” she asked carefully. He nodded. “Any new scarring in that area is likely to be substantially worse, particularly in terms of stiffness. If you receive any burns, I would recommend getting them looked at as soon as possible, no matter how mild. Hm… Ah, and if there are any areas with decreased feeling, you should check on them manually after battles. You may not notice new injuries.”

Link nodded along, thought about it for a moment, and then noted all of that down too with some reluctance. “Thank you,” he said with finality, tugging his trouser legs down, beginning to redress.

It was enough for now, at least. He didn’t want to have to make any decisions right away. He didn’t have to make any decisions right away.

Chapter Text

Guinevere and Link split up the next morning, Link heading into the woods and Guinevere continuing down to Highland Stable. His friends rejoined him soon afterward, and he offered a small and sheepish smile.

Thanks for giving me privacy, he signed, looking away before anyone could reply as if that would actually keep him from hearing them. Daruk chuckled softly.

“Least we can do, little brother,” he murmured, but happily he seemed content to leave it at that.

It was easy to just wander around the next stretch of road, taking his time; there were hearty radishes to dig up, crumbled columns to explore, peppers to pick and mushrooms to harvest. Once he even spotted some eggs nestled in a tree and shamelessly climbed up to steal them.

Pumaag Nitae’s shrine was in plain sight on the side of the road, and he worked his way steadily through it over the course of most of an hour. When he came back out, he moved on just the same, winding slowly through the trees, back and forth across the path.

“I never thought you’d be this happy in the wilderness,” Mipha said thoughtfully, earning a questioning glance. She smiled at him, reassuring. “You were raised in the city. But you seem so happy out here.”

Link smiled back, shrugged a little, and used magnesis to drop a ball chained awkwardly to a log inside the hollow.

“Ya-ha-ha!” the Korok cheered, and he chuckled and clapped three times in return.

“Is that music?” Urbosa asked with a faint, suspicious frown. Link paused, turning to her and cocking his head.

Which way?

Urbosa tilted her head towards the sound of rushing water, and Link crept in that direction, keeping his presence quiet even as he kept a special eye out. He made a mental note of what looked like another Korok puzzle in the middle of the river, but didn’t stop to solve it. Instead, he ducked behind a tree to hide and gestured to Urbosa, who nodded and took off in the direction of the now clearly audible music.

She was back only a few moments later, brow furrowed. “It’s a Rito bard.”

Link lit up, and without explaining, he darted a little closer, pulling himself up a tree, and found Kass himself, playing on the edge of the road.

He seemed more comfortable with this song, playing entire verses without repeating anything or starting over, but he seemed very fond of the refrain in particular, playing it on loop for several minutes before Link finally stepped in.

Link whistled softly, and Kass stopped playing. His brow creased, and he looked both ways up and down the path before finally finding Link in his tree. Link waved, and Kass blinked at him before raising one wing in greeting.

“A surprise to see you here,” he said warmly, swaying gently in place like he hadn’t quite lost track of the song he’d been playing. “Have you been waiting there long?”

Link shook his head. What were you playing?

“The Dragon of Faron Woods,” Kass quoted easily, stroking the side of his instrument with clear fondness. “My teacher taught it to me. Like all of his songs, it was meant for the hero of the goddess.” Urbosa, below Link, inhaled sharply, but Kass only gave Link a small smile. “Would you like me to play it for you?”

Link nodded, and without any further hesitation, Kass started to play. He was a brilliantly talented bard; Link could almost hear all of the hundreds of hours of practice that must have gone into this song alone, the dedication that Kass had to his music, his admiration for…

Link closed his eyes and listened.

It sounded to Link like an ode to Farore – a song about a great storm dragon that lived in Lake Floria, who brought lightning to heel and protected the wildlife. The hero made an appearance, of course, waiting on the bridge for the dragon just to talk to them like a friend.

This song, like Kass’ last, had a refrain that stood out to Link. Every time the hero in the song spoke to someone, they told him the same thing, even the dragon.

Where the forest dragon splays its jaws, a shrine sleeps with noble cause.

The song drew to a close, Kass playing out the last few notes, and Link opened his eyes to find Kass sighing, clearly pleased. When Kass looked at him again, Link granted him a small smile.

Thank you, Link said sincerely, already working on the puzzle in the back of his mind.

“Of course,” Kass said warmly, and then rocked slightly on his heels. “My teacher died quite some time ago, you know. He passed all of his songs on to me.” There was no grief in his voice, or perhaps only a faint echo of it; there was only a light in his eyes as he looked up at Link, making no move to approach him. “It’s always been my dearest ambition to one day play them each for the hero themselves.”

Link blinked at him slowly, all traces of a smile disappearing from his face. Kass’ smile, if possible, only grew gentler, and he still made no move to approach.

“You seem to me to be quite a receptive audience,” Kass continued placidly. “There’s another location spoken of in a song in this forest, not far from here. I would consider it a favor if you could meet me there in a few days’ time. I will be waiting on the eastern shore of Calora Lake if you choose to come by. If not, then no harm done. I have practiced my song a little more.”

Link nodded without making any promises, and Kass raised one wing in a languid wave before going back to playing.

With a faint thud, Link slid off the tree and started to walk away, returning to the Korok puzzle he’d noticed earlier. He sat on one of the three rocks in the river and absently manipulated one of the chained iron lumps with magnesis; by the time he’d gotten it into place, he was already itching to open his map.

Revali landed on the rock beside him, looking curious and clearly trying not to. “Given the refrain of that song, I assume you weren’t listening out of vanity,” he said, because Revali was quite clever.

Link hummed, opening up his map and zooming in, and then showing it to Revali, who leaned in. After a moment, Revali frowned and called out to Urbosa, who appeared a second later.

“There’s a Hylian spring in that area, isn’t there?” Revali prompted Urbosa, who only took a glance at the map before nodding.

“The spring of courage. I suppose there could be theoretically be an associated shrine, though I never saw it if there was.” She gave Link an appraising glance. “Your goddess seems to value resourcefulness a great deal.”

Link offered a small, brief smile before putting his slate away and climbing out of the river, shaking himself off. Let’s go, he said without hesitation.

He wondered if he could pray at the spring.

The trail – a term Link used loosely – to the spring of courage was thick with monsters. Within a few miles, Link climbed a tree just to get enough breathing room to take an elixir against electric attacks, and then another for strength.

His skin ached oddly; it made it a little harder to focus, forcing him to guard his right side, and he was clenching his jaw against each parried blow and the loud cries of the bokoblin. The last time he’d fought so many monsters so close together was the evening he’d rescued Sesami’s group.

It’s fine, he signed distractedly when Mipha checked on him, brow wrinkled in concern. There’s just… a lot.

Mipha stayed quiet, not looking entirely comforted, but Link clenched his fist around his stolen club and kept going. If he didn’t pull back the bowstrings of the spiked boko bows so far, would they last longer? What was his draw strength compared to a bokoblin’s?

The others scouted for him, Revali checking the path on ahead while Urbosa and Daruk looked for encampments and Mipha watched his back – Link liked to think they were getting better at working together with what they had.

“You’re shaking,” eagle-eyed Urbosa said, when she checked back in at one point.

I’m fine, Link said firmly, tilting his head up to confirm his suspicions. I think it’s going to rain. His skin was prickling and pulling tight with discomfort.

Urbosa was still frowning when he looked at her again, but she nodded and turned away, going to check the remains of the monster camp. Daruk lingered, though, arms crossed as he contemplated Link.

“Little guy, are you sure-”

I’m fine, Link signed again, insistent, and bent down to start tucking bokoblin weapons into his slate. There were more monsters in this area than he’d anticipated, and he was shattering weapons on them at a worrying rate. At least his muscles were holding up well, not so sore despite the exertion.

“You’re not in any hurry, Link,” Mipha said, slow and firm and soothing enough that Link found himself slowing down as he gathered his spoils. “You have days to reach the spring. You’re off the road and out of reach. You can take your time.”

Link nodded distractedly, and finally gave in, tucking away the last of the weapons and the horns and hearts and fangs. He sat on his heels and huffed quietly.

I don’t think I feel well, he confessed at last, looking at Mipha alone. There was… there was something about the way his skin was pulling on his bones…

“You’re pale,” Mipha agreed patiently. “You should find somewhere to take shelter from the storm.”

Link nodded again, glancing up at the sky, and followed Urbosa without looking when she led him towards one of the bokoblin’s now-abandoned tents. He sat inside, let his breath hitch, and reached up to rub at his shoulder. He felt… off. Strange. Thunder cracked, and it made him jump harshly, head jerking.

Without consciously deciding to do so, he built and started a fire under the cover, and it was just as it started to crackle that it finally began to rain in earnest.

“Just in time,” Daruk commented idly, leaning back to watch the sky. Link grunted.

Bit of a radical weather change from the desert, he commented idly, then reached down to rub his forearms gingerly. Revali scoffed.

“As if this is any better,” he muttered, casting the weather outside a disdainful look. “Soaking through every unfortunate traveler to bother trying to pass through here until your feathers are mildewed…”

“Not a problem I’ve ever had, I’m afraid,” Mipha said loftily, smiling when Link snorted and Revali grumbled darkly.

It wasn’t so bad. He didn’t need to take a break, he probably could have kept going. He would have been fine. He moved his hands from his forearms to one shoulder, prodding gingerly at the sore skin, and then wrapped his arms firmly around his knees instead.

“…You holding up alright there, little brother?” Daruk asked, suddenly very careful. Link nodded without looking, fingers twitching on his knees.

It was then that he finally identified the sickening, pulling discomfort in his skin as pain, deep and aching. He let out a slow, careful breath and pushed himself so his back was pressed against a tree. Then he breathed in, slow and shuddering. Folded his legs under him. Breathed out.

Then again, maybe it was for the best that Mipha had made him sit down.

“Oh,” Daruk said, with a deep and sudden understanding that Link missed entirely.

An itching, faint throb twinged up and down his body, from his stomach up to his right shoulder, and all through his left knee, twisting up one of his legs in a spiral and burning at his forearms. Sprayed across his back in a pattern he couldn’t follow.

It wasn’t even that the pain was intense. It was just that there was so much of it.

The next breath in came back out choked and stuttered. He thought distantly that this was probably what Guinevere had meant when she asked if it ever got so bad he couldn’t focus on anything else.

He took a sharp breath in, too sharp and too shallow, and let it out too quick, and Mipha was sitting in front of him, calm and steady and perfect, eyes intense on him. In, short and gasped, and it was too little, not enough. Out and in.

“Easy, Link,” she soothed, with a forceful, practiced calm. “Breathe in, one two three four five… and out, one two three… in…”

He followed along, coaxing his breathing into evening out again. When he could, he signed, sorry. It’s just rain. I’m sorry.

Rain aggravates scars, and you have a lot of them, Mipha answered simply, and aloud, she continued, “In, one two three four-”

“So tell us about that Rito bard you came across,” Revali said suddenly, and when Link glanced at him he was leaning back idly, looking bored. “You seemed to know each other. I suppose you would be interested in at least one of the several bards who specializes in ballads of the goddess’ hero.”

Link couldn’t get enough breath to laugh, but he found himself smiling, brief and welcome. He was playing on Gerudo Tower when I went. Had a song for a shrine there too. In, and out, careful and tremulous. He seemed nice. If he recognized me, he hasn’t said so. In and out. I think I’ll meet him at the lake. Shrine.

It was getting easier to breathe as he got used to the increased level of pain, but he found that he still didn’t really want to get up and move. It was just… a lot. He felt drained already.

“I certainly won’t discourage you,” Urbosa said, uncharacteristically soft. “Perhaps you should skip Lanayru for now. Northern Hyrule or Hebra might be easier on you.”

Link grunted softly, shrugged, and hissed in pain. Maybe. Maybe. But I want to work my way all the way around to each of the regions by fall. And I wanted to visit Zora’s Domain.

Of course you did, Mipha said affectionately. We can certainly try, and we can always go back later if it gives you too much trouble.

Link nodded, curling in on himself a little and letting his hood shadow his face even as he kept his eyes on Mipha. I’m worried about Eldin. I want to visit, but Rito Doctor said new burns could be dangerous.

We’ll help you be careful, Mipha said, at almost the exact time Daruk did, deep and reassuring.

“Ain’t nothing you can’t work around if you’ve got enough warning, and we’ll make sure you’re well stocked with fireproofing potions before you go. Don’t worry, little buddy, we’ve got you.”

Link nodded tiredly, letting himself list forward, curling around his legs, pressing his cheek to his better knee. I know. I know.

In and out.

“It might not be amiss to pair some heat resistance with your fireproofing,” Revali commented idly. “That pretty sapphire circlet of yours will keep the worst of the heat off once combustion is no longer a concern.”

“Have you been to Death Mountain?” Daruk wondered aloud.

“No, Daruk, I have not been to the region where my feathers will be immediately set aflame without the application of a disgusting thick goo. But I have noticed that our little Hylian is not especially fond of heat.”

Link shook his head, watching the others banter lightly. His breath had evened out, though it was still labored, and Mipha was still softly, mindlessly coaching him through it, soothing and kind. He nodded to her with just a glance, and she smiled at him gently and sat back on her heels, looking back out.

“It shouldn’t last more than a few hours,” Mipha said gently. “It rarely does in this area. Is there anything you wanted to know before we keep going?”

He hesitated, and then asked quickly, Is there a prayer for the spring?

“There is,” Urbosa said immediately, moving closer. The spring of courage is Farore’s spring, so you pray to Farore. I know that Zelda knew a long prayer she recited at the spring, and a shorter one she recited daily. But I’m afraid I only know the short one.

Can you teach it to me? Link asked hopefully, and Urbosa granted him a small smile and a nod.

“Life-giver Farore,” she started, soft and smooth, “golden goddess of courage…”

He followed along in sign the best he could, pausing every few words to occasionally check something, and like that they passed the rest of the rainstorm.

It was nice.

Life-giver Farore, golden goddess of courage, I seek the conviction of the wind. To go forth without hesitation; to surpass all obstacles that lay before me; and to face the world without flinching.

Link could feel the magic of the spring swirling gently around him even as he knelt in it, a few inches deep on the platform he was praying on. It was long dark by then, the spring glittering faintly with starlight, monster blood still floating off of him where it had soaked into his clothing and was now being washed away.

Quiet had fallen over the area, leaving just the little sounds of the wind in foliage and skittering animals in the dark.

He could feel the words to the rest of the prayer, itching in the back of his mind; he’d recited the entire thing here before, maybe more than once. He’d left an offering. Something yellow, something special to him.

You have done well to find this spring.

Link looked up carefully, letting his concentration slip. The towering statue before him glowed with a soft and familiar light, the glow of his goddess.

Not Farore. Hylia.

The corners of his mouth tipped up gently, warmth spreading through him, and he waited. His goddess had more to say to him, whether there was more to do yet to reveal the spring or if he had not yet proven himself.

Offer Farosh’s scale, received from the golden spirit, to the Spring of Courage, she murmured to him, an odd and familiar weaving of promise and trust settling something deep inside him. I, Hylia, will guide you. Return when you are ready.

He bowed his head again, letting out a long, soft sigh as the glow of his goddess left. After a moment, he reached up to press his fist over his heart in silent promise, and then reached down to his hip, flipped through his slate looking for something suitable to leave, and finally set a small, raw topaz on the platform where he knelt.

It wasn’t what he had left before, but it would do.

That done, he passed by the statue into the small temple on the other side, sitting down and setting up a fire. It wasn’t a stable, but it would be better than any of the abandoned bokoblin encampments for shelter.

“Well?” Urbosa prompted curiously, sitting down across from him.

He tapped the information into his slate, ensuring he wouldn’t forget it, and then signed, I’m to get a scale from Farosh and offer it to the spring. He smiled a little, shrugging sheepishly. I’m not sure how to do that, but I’ll figure it out eventually. She knows I’ll be back.

“Farosh…” Revali frowned, and then clicked his beak in displeasure. “The storm dragon?”

Link nodded, setting the slate aside. Most likely. He yawned, feeling the toll of the long and exhausting day. Either way, it’s not a hurry. I just need to… get around to it.

“Then I think you’ve done enough for today,” Mipha said quietly, while Daruk made a sound of agreement. “Why don’t you get to sleep?”

I’ll try, Link shrugged, already laying down gratefully. His skin still ached uncomfortably, nowhere near as bad as earlier, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep well at all. But it would be good to at least rest.

He closed his eyes on Mipha’s soft smile, and listened to her start to hum.

Chapter Text

Faron Tower took hours. Hours.

First there was the entire frustrating process of shooting down the wizzrobe guarding it, much harder when his arm was shaking with the strain of drawing the bow. Then he realized that there weren’t any platforms low enough for him to reach without exhausting himself, and he had to find another way up. There was a cliff nearby he could jump from, but that took just as much effort to reach, and there were monsters on it.

And it wouldn’t stop fucking raining. Link ached, and it didn’t help that he’d barely gotten any sleep the night before, kept up by unrelenting spasms despite Mipha’s best attempts to settle him.

He took a break just before he finally jumped onto the tower, late in the afternoon, to irritably crack a durian on a rock and rip it open, getting at the stinky flesh inside. The juices got his fingers sticky, and when he was done he tossed the rind off the edge just to watch it fall.

Daruk was making a valiant effort not to laugh. “Perhaps you could take a longer break, little brother,” he suggested gently, eyes glittering with mirth. “You seem to be in a bit of a temper.”

Link grunted, and Revali snorted loudly. Link scowled at him before he could offer unwanted comment, and decided he was still hungry.

He went for his slate and tapped around until he found what he was looking for.

“Perhaps you should consider first-” Mipha said quickly, because apparently she knew what he was going to do even before he did.

Link took the raw, whole Hyrule bass and bit into it, ripping open the skin and flesh, too impatient to bother preparing it. Revali made a sound of disgust and flew away, and Link felt a ripple of irrational satisfaction.

It wasn’t good, but it was food, which was enough for Link for now. Mipha covered her face as he worked his way through it, and when he was done he tossed it off the cliff with the rind.

None of this actually made him feel any better. He folded up his legs and stared at Faron Tower, which would probably take at least half an hour to climb even from this far up.

I don’t think I want to stay in Faron very long, he confessed. He liked the wildlife and the flora, the hearty durians and the bananas and the thistles, and there were a lot of radishes, which he appreciated. But he just felt so awful; he was pretty sure it was going to start raining again soon even though it had only stopped about ten minutes before.

“Then move along,” Urbosa said, soft and simple. “There’s a fishing village some ways east of the woods. Zelda’s mentioned a shrine or two in that area.”

Link rubbed his face, ignoring the smearing gross on his cheeks. I should probably explore the coast, he said sullenly, and then hid his face in his elbow, blocking out the light. His skin throbbed faintly.

There was a beat of silence.

“You should shelter for a bit, little brother,” Daruk said at last, quietly. “You might feel better with a break.”

Link shook his head without looking, ignored the nausea to stand up, and finally launched himself off the cliff, catching on the mesh of the tower walls with a grunt.

If he favored his right arm as he climbed up, that wasn’t anyone’s business but his own.

At the top of the tower, once he’d downloaded the region’s map, he sat down and leaned against the pedestal, scowling at the large assembly of forests and lakes that had opened up for display.

He looked at Mipha, blank and exhausted, and signed meekly, I like Kass.

You do like Kass, she agreed gently, expression soft with sympathy. He won’t mind if you miss meeting him, but I think you would be happier if you did.

Link sighed, enlarged the map, and worked through it until he found Calora Lake. He marked the location with a beacon, and then curled up and stared at the floor for a minute.

You have salve left, don’t you? Mipha asked him, with a look that was suddenly too gentle. Some of that chu jelly and safflina that you made in Gerudo Town.

He tossed his head irritably, and then deflated and nodded. Some. He met her eyes, suddenly anxious and embarrassed. Don’t let Urbosa see.

Mipha’s expression shadowed briefly, but she nodded, and within a couple minutes she’d coaxed Urbosa into going with her to scout ahead for the next stable. Urbosa was frowning a little – she’d clearly caught at least some of the conversation – but she went easily enough.

It was then, with just Daruk left, that Link stripped his tunic off with a painful grunt that made Daruk sit up sharply.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asked, suddenly serious. “If anyone could hide an injury from the four of us, it’d be you.”

Link shook his head, made to just move on, and then patted his shoulder gingerly.

Hurts, he explained shortly, and then fumbled for his slate to flip through his inventory. He’d made a batch of the cool safflina salve before leaving Gerudo Town, and he still had most of it left. He paused just as he took it out, set the jar beside him, and added, It’s fine. It’s just uncomfortable.

There was a brief pause while Link fumbled the jar open, and then Daruk huffed softly.

“We haven’t really been great brothers to you, have we?” Daruk mused, leaning back on his hands. “If you don’t feel like you can tell us things like this.”

I just did, Link snapped defensively. The salve was sticky and gross, and it tingled gently on his fingertips. He brought it straight to his shoulder anyway, smoothing it over the roughened skin, and then set to work getting to the rest of… well, the rest of the worst of it.

“You did, I appreciate it,” Daruk agreed with a chuckle, lacing his fingers behind his neck, head tilted to regard Link thoughtfully. “I just worry, that’s all. I had a little boy your age, and he was always complaining to his friends the moment anything was wrong, even something simple. You’ve always been a lot more reserved than my boy, though.”

Standoffish, Link signed, with an echo of a memory that felt like Zelda. Daruk shrugged.

“By some accounts, I guess. I always figured you were just private, myself.”

Link stayed silent for a moment, his hands occupied spreading the salve over his stomach, his forearms, his other shoulder, even reaching around and trying to get some of his back. He could even feel it starting to work, his skin loosening a little so it didn’t stretch so awfully; it didn’t make the pain go away, but it sanded off the edges in a way Link was already grateful for.

It wasn’t this bad when I woke up, Link said at last. I didn’t even notice it much at that point. It was just normal.

“Remember what I said, little brother,” Daruk encouraged. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Urbosa’s from a warrior culture; she’ll understand.”

Link hummed unhappily, finally capping the salve jar and putting it away, and didn’t answer. Instead, he just crossed his legs and waited for the salve to do its job before he put his tunic back on. Mipha and Urbosa would be back soon enough.

“You can sleep in the stable,” Mipha encouraged him, an edge of desperation to her voice. Link shook his head without even looking over, kneeling down to crawl through the hole he’d opened in the wall, where a shrine glowed brightly.

I don’t want to, he countered childishly. The skin of his chest and shoulder burned and throbbed, and at the same time his whole body felt chilled, soaked through from the rain. Exhaustion gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, and his body ached to move. He felt jittery and frustrated.

He wasn’t going to sleep.

“Let him go, Mipha,” Daruk soothed. “He’ll wear himself out eventually.”

Mipha made a soft, stressed sound, and Link couldn’t help but glance back at her, faintly guilty, even as he pressed the Sheikah slate to the shrine to open the way. She was tugging anxiously on her tail, but she met his eyes when he looked, sighed, and gave him a wan smile.

Link sighed, nodded back, and disappeared into the shrine.

He had to admit he was dreading it a little bit; a lot of the shrines were physically demanding, and he didn’t have a lot of energy or strength for that at the moment. He was worried, a little, that he would have to leave and return later.

Link looked around slowly when he touched down - there were no endless falls that he could see, no ladders or jumps. There was a see-saw in front of him, easily frozen in place by stasis, and then another past that where all he had to do was brace himself against the fall when he weighed it down and then freeze it too.

He could see another treasure chest, high up on one of the walls, but he didn’t need it, or could come back for it later. If all he did was navigate to the monk, he wouldn’t need to put any weight on his shoulder at all.

It was more of a relief than Link wanted to admit.

He weighed the second-last seesaw down, froze the final one in place, and took it at a jog. When that was done, he bowed once to the monk before he reached out to break the stasis cube.

Link was starting to wonder about the way that none of the shrines had featured something that he just couldn’t do.

“Your resourcefulness in overcoming this trial speaks to the promise of a hero,” the monk rasped, and it rang with as much sincerity and conviction as every other had. Link closed his eyes, accepting the spirit orb, and opened them again just in time to watch the monk dissolve away.

Outside of the shrine, Link took a deep breath before crawling back out into the rain, grimacing as it soaked his clothes all over again. Mipha turned quickly towards him to look him over, eyes wide and anxious, and he nodded absently before taking off, ignoring the stable entirely in favor of heading towards Lake Floria.

He caught the tail end of Revali and Daruk’s conversation as he approached, cocking his head slightly to listen.

“-don’t very well see what good we’re doing here,” Revali was saying, soft and frustrated. “Is this our purpose from now on? We’ve been demoted to moral support and scouts?” He sounded almost more scathing about the second job than the first. Link slowed down.

“If that’s what we can do,” Daruk said calmly. “I’m planning on seeing this through to the end one way or another. Aren’t you?”

Revali scoffed loudly. “Obviously.”

“And it’s good for him,” Daruk added, voice softening a little. “If there’s one thing the kid doesn’t need right now, it’s to be all alone in the world.” Link’s heart skipped a beat. “We’ve put enough on Link already. He was supposed to have a lot more on his side.”

Revali exhaled. “I hate this.”

“Me too,” Daruk said quietly.

Link didn’t realize he’d stopped until Mipha cleared her throat quietly, and then he shook himself and started forward again. Urbosa was on the bridge, frowning up at the cascade of waterfalls.

She turned to look over as they approached, and then waved her hand. “Calora Lake should be up there somewhere, but it’ll be a trial of its own to get there in this weather.”

Link took one look, and then turned around, sat down, and shook his head, dangling his feet miserably off the edge of the bridge. His hair stuck to his face, and rain dripped down his back from the trailing end of his ponytail. His head threatened to spin from exhaustion, and he. Hurt.

Daruk sat down beside him and didn’t say anything, just stayed. He could hear the other three talking behind him, but didn’t bother to listen to what they said.

Goddess, he wasn’t sure he could do this.

His ears picked up on the distant crackle of electricity before Daruk addressed him, gentle and cheered. “Hey. Look up for me, won’t you, little brother?”

Link looked up, and immediately a light and beautiful sense of wonder filled him from the heart out. He twisted around, instinctively trying to see better, and heard Daruk chuckle.

Overhead, a storm dragon sailed through the air, cutting through it more gracefully than the sweetest Rito dancer. Sparks of electricity jumped off her, making the rain around her body dance with light. She didn’t make a sound, but the lake glowed with her presence.

Farosh, Link signed before he realized he knew it, watching her glide away, twisting through the air. Her feet kicked languidly, swimming through the storm. Daruk chuckled softly.

“The very one,” he murmured. “We Gorons mostly see Dinraal, up on the mountain, but Farosh is a thing of beauty herself.”

He sounded wistful. Link turned around, crossed his legs, and watched Farosh until she disappeared into the water; it wasn’t until she was gone that he remembered he needed a scale from her, and even then it was a distant, detached thought at best.

Finally, he blinked, looking around at the others – Urbosa looked just as fixated on the place where Farosh had disappeared, and Mipha was mirroring the posture he’d kept earlier, feet dangling off the edge.

Revali caught his eye and sighed.

“I’ve only ever seen Dinraal once,” he said, as if that were the end of it. Link almost smiled. Typical Revali.

The smile disappeared, and he was on his feet and spinning around before he consciously registered what had startled him; the fire flickering through the trees helped him arrange the last few moments into a timeline that made sense. Lightning had struck something in the forest, and if he strained his ears past the rainfall, he could hear the commotion of people in a panic.

Without hesitation, he took off back toward the stable.

By the time he reached it, the rainfall and the quick reactions of the stablehands had already solved the problem; the fire was little more than a scorch mark on the giant horse head, one of dozens that Link hadn’t noticed earlier. At the base of the stable, a woman was standing with her arms wrapped around herself, shivering in the cold as she stared up at the stable roof.

She tried to smile as Link approached, though, shuffling her feet.

“We’re all good here,” she said, the slightest tremble to her voice. “This happens all the time. But thanks.” Link tilted his head, and she huffed. “We get struck at least once nearly every time there’s a lightning storm. I only wish I knew why…”

“It’s because there’s an axe on top of the stable,” Revali informed Link tartly. Link almost laughed.

Then, to Link’s surprise and pleasure, Revali flicked one wing off to the side, where a lookout post was stations, just high enough that Link could maybe retrieve the axe with magnesis. Link gave Revali a small, weary nod, and then turned towards it. He hesitated at the base of the ladder, and then, decisively, clasped the side of it with his right hand instead of a rung; he’d need it to keep him steady, but he didn’t think he could bear to climb with it right now.

In another ten minutes, he was up and then back down, found the woman inside the stable now, sheltering from the rain, and held out the axe.

She stared at him blankly, and he pointed up, indicating the roof. Her mouth fell open.

“Did you take this off the roof?” she squeaked. He nodded. She covered her face and moaned. “Oh, that’s basically a lightning rod, isn’t it? No wonder…” She shook her head. “I’m Cima- thank you, really, thank you for taking that down. I was sure the stable was going to burn down one of these days.” She accepted the axe gingerly, and then considered him. “Hang on, I owe you big for this- don’t move a muscle, I’ll be right back.”

Link turned to watch as she darted away, leaned the axe against a wall, and then dug through a chest for a minute. Finally, she returned with an ugly fish-shaped hat in her arms.

“It’s a rubber helm,” she explained, offering it to him. “My ma found it in a chest once, but none of us really wear it because it’s, uh…” She gestured vaguely with the helmet. “But it helps keep shocks off. Please, take it.”

Revali was laughing at him. Link sighed and accepted it, giving Cima a silent one-handed thank you. She giggled, visibly embarrassed.

“Yeah, it’s not much. But really, thank you.”

Link nodded solemnly, and then made his escape, tucking the rubber helmet away on his way out; it would probably be good to have. He didn’t realize until he was halfway down the road again that he’d maybe been kind of rude, then decided that he was too tired to care.

There was a Korok puzzle he’d noticed earlier in the middle of the bridge, and he sat on the edge and shot balloons until his friends caught up.

It was still raining.

There’s a shrine behind a waterfall, Link signed flatly, staring straight ahead at the large falls under Riola Spring. He could see the orange glow reflecting off of the water.

“Where?” Mipha asked quietly, and he pointed. His skin itched and ached. He needed to move. He was so fucking tired.

“Well-spotted,” Urbosa offered, and she was frowning at him. “Perhaps you could mark it on your map for another time.”

He wanted to scream. Even Urbosa was treating him like glass now.

(He felt like glass.)

Without responding, Link pushed himself off the platform and caught the wind in his paraglider, sailing down to a trail of rocks below. There was a Korok flower to chase on top of one of the pillars, and floating platforms with lizalfos guards to shoot down.

The skin of his chest stretched painfully when he drew his bow. He clenched his jaw and pulled harder until it threatened to snap in his hands; he’d need to change it out soon.

Link swam, and jumped, and climbed and hated every protestation of his body with a livid resentment that he just hadn’t felt when he was sore with overexertion, or worn out, or even when his ears screamed at him for the softest whispers.

The rush of the waterfall was too loud. The wind cut into his skin. He could hear the squeak of the octo balloons as if they were directly in his ear. The sky was lightening in the beginnings of dawn.

Link wanted to hit something. Instead, he nocked an arrow and took aim.

Silently, Mipha picked on ahead, cutting easily through the water, staying one step ahead of him as he struggled through the same space. Revali went on ahead too, and when Link was finally getting close, he called out just so Link could see him perched on a platform, from which he beckoned, projecting such a deliberate boredom that Link was… almost certain he was being genuinely helpful.

He looked at Mipha. Mipha smiled at him gently and gestured for him to go. Link went.

When he struggled onto the fenced ledge, he could see what Revali had wanted him to find: a cavern that led behind the waterfall, the soft glow of the shrine just visible.

His left knee twinged, threatening to send him tumbling, but he beelined for the shrine anyway.

Inside was another shrine that, while it promised to be tricky, was at least not physically strenuous. The balls he had to move weren’t unmanageably heavy, and he could take his sword in his left hand and swing to activate the switch, watching the results with a hawk’s eye.

It still took almost an hour and a great many more tries than it should have; he was so tired that his timing was awful, and he kept having to retrieve the balls. It was frustrating and overwhelming and twice he just laid down flat on his back to calm himself down, but eventually he stood back up, put the ball back on the launcher, and swung his sword into the switch.

The hum of the new spirit orb in his chest was oddly comforting.

Chapter Text

“Oh, I was hoping you would sleep for longer than that,” was the first thing Link heard when he finally stirred, blinking open heavy eyes.

He looked up at Mipha, who was leaning down over him, and when she caught his eye she smiled.

“Are you feeling better, at least?” she asked quietly.

Link stared at her, and then took stock of himself, rolled over onto his stomach, and shook his head.

Still exhausted. Still throbbing. Still heavy and frustrated and recoiling from the whirl of sensory input.

Mipha’s smile fell, worry taking its place, and Link dropped his eyes against his forearm and groaned, soft and soundless, a low vibration deep in his throat. Rubbed his face hard into the crook of his elbow, bit down irritably on the fleshy part of his arm, and didn’t look back up.

The waterfall rushed by, throwing off a faint spray. The others were talking again, blessedly quiet. The elastic holding his hair back was off-kilter, and he reached up to pull it out before it drove him insane.

Slowly, Link tried to force himself to unwind by inches. When had he even fallen asleep? It had been daybreak by the time he went into the shrine; it must be nearly high noon by now.

The thought wasn’t enough to move his leaden limbs. He pulled his hood down over his face and grunted unhappily, listened to the sound heighten into a whine, then let it slip through his fingers.

The others gave him space, which was unexpected but gratifying, and Link listened to the rush of the waterfall without getting up. Eventually his head was lolling a little instead of being pressed into the crook of his arm, and some of the tension had left his frame.

“It’s just overstimulation,” Mipha was explaining to the others, voice quiet and soft. “It hits him a little harder than most. He needs some time to process and bring himself back into balance.”

“I’ve never seen him at it,” Daruk said, not with doubt but with regret.

“He has more to absorb now than he normally does,” Mipha reminded him. “Mentally, emotionally, and physically. Anyone would become overwhelmed.”

She sounded almost defensive, and on his behalf. Link wanted to laugh. Instead, he rolled onto his side and fidgeted with the plant stems around him, wrapping them around his fingers and then letting go again. His skin ached dully, and his head threatened to follow suit. The shrine’s blue glow filled the cavern.

He pulled out his Sheikah slate and checked the area around Calora Lake, and then put it away. He pushed himself upright, drawing the others’ attention, and stared at the waterfall for a minute before he looked at Mipha, then at Daruk, then at Revali.

…All of them had gotten kinder, in the weeks since Kakariko.

You have to promise not to laugh, Link said impulsively. Revali arched an eyebrow at him, and Link frowned back and then glanced at Urbosa too. I’m not whining. I just think you should know.

Urbosa frowned at him for a moment too, but Mipha’s face was flooding with relief and Daruk was breaking out into a proud grin, countering the nervous thrum of Link’s heart. Realization flickered across Urbosa’s face.

“Is this about your mysterious talk with the Rito doctor?” she asked. Revali made a noise of comprehension, and Link nodded. “Certainly that isn’t the place for humor. And you’ve never been one to complain.” She paused, studying him, and then clarified, “I’m listening.”

“I suppose it’s better to be informed than ignorant,” Revali added, with false flippancy, and if Link had been in a better mood he might have smiled.

Link took a deep breath and nodded. Glanced at Daruk and Mipha again, and received two encouraging nods.

My scars have been painful, Link explained, slow and trying to ward off the encroaching shame. I know I mentioned it in the desert, but it’s not… a little bit, or sometimes. It’s all the time and it keeps me from doing some things, and makes others just hurt a lot. I wanted to talk to her about, about maybe easing it a little. Sometimes, if it gets really bad.

It was hard to look at them by the end of it, but when he finally did, neither had any of the scorn or frustration he expected. Urbosa even looked faintly sympathetic.

“I guessed as much, though I didn’t realize it persisted outside of the rain,” Urbosa said quietly. “I suppose we had no way of knowing the limitations of the Shrine of Resurrection. Is that the problem with Faron?”

Link swallowed and nodded. It’s all over, he said miserably, knowing that he was tipping over into whining now.

“I know,” Urbosa said quietly, because of course she did. She had been there when he woke up, before he’d pulled clothes over his skin.

“Because that’s what we need, is a child in constant pain,” Revali muttered scathingly, and Link flinched before Revali could meet his eyes and add, more evenly, “Don’t mistake that as your fault, little champion, not everything is about you. I suppose you’re telling us now for a reason?”

Link shrugged. Wanted you to know why I was struggling. It’s not- I promise it’s not because I’m not trying. He looked down at the slate, suddenly enormously tired. I’m going to have to climb to get to Calora Lake. I don’t know if I can.

And he hadn’t wanted them to think he’d forgotten, or decided to ignore Kass, or that he was giving up for no reason. He just, he needed them to understand that it was hard.

“Why don’t you put that salve of yours on first, little brother,” Daruk encouraged, and then, even kinder, “And you did a good thing, admitting that you need support. Well done.”

Link smiled a little, thin and exhausted, and went for the jar of salve again.

Half an hour later, he was creeping out of the cavern, grimacing at the realization that it was indeed still raining. He turned a slow circle, surveying his options for progress, and then sighed and looked up.

The cliff was slippery with rain, but it wasn’t… it was shorter than some of the ones he’d climbed on the Great Plateau, and a patch of swift violets drew his attention to a ledge halfway up that he could rest on. And maybe take a stamina elixir.

Link looked down the river again, then back up the cliff, huffed, and flicked through his Sheikah slate until he found the climber’s bandana, which he tied around his head, keeping his hair out of his face. Then he picked out an enduring elixir to help him along; goddess knew how much more energy the slippery cliff was going to take than a normal one did. Revali perched at the top, watching idly down, and Mipha watched him with clear worry.

“Slow and steady,” Urbosa coached, crossing her arms to frown up at the cliff like she’d never seen it before. “The last thing you want is to fall.”

Link nodded, took a deep breath, and then started up the cliff, jumping a little to try and give himself a head start. His shoes dug into the cliff face, his fingers scrambling a little for leverage; it was a rocky cliff with plenty of handholds but it was so slick. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to focus.

Left hand, right hand, left foot, right foot.

His hand slipped and he hissed and dug his fingers in harder.

The skin of his shoulder burned, and he shifted himself minutely so his right hand was a little lower, then pushed up. Left hand, right hand…

He was panting harshly by the time he reached the midway ledge, but he managed it – dropped roughly onto the grassy outcrop and leaned back against the rock, reaching up to prod gingerly at the tender skin around his shoulder. Growled softly in frustration.

The top of the cliff wasn’t too far away now, but the muscles of his arms and legs protested, and Link gave himself ten minutes of quiet before he downed a stamina elixir and took the second leg of the climb.

Left hand, right hand, right foot, shit- His foot slipped and he had to catch himself quickly, yelping as his knee scraped the rock. Took one breath, two, and then kept going.

Right foot, left hand, right hand… goddess damn, right hand-

Finally, Link pulled himself over the top of the cliff, looked down at the distance he had just managed, and nodded, dizzy but proud. His breath came hard, scraping at his throat, but he could almost have laughed. When he looked up, even Urbosa looked pleased with him, eyes glittering faintly.

“That’s how you do it!” Daruk declared cheerfully, clapping his hands loud enough to make Link jump. “Way to go, little guy.”

Link grunted, loud and pleased, and twisted in place to look around. There was an electric wizzrobe dancing around the pond, there was no easy way to avoid that; there were some rocks he could use to cross the river, and a metal boulder sitting idly between some pillars that he could move and see if there was a Korok hiding there.

Static was flying off his bow and sword, and he put both away before he consciously realized what was happening; he had a spiked boko spear and a bow to match, and those took their place.

Thirty minutes of darting around the little platform – catching a couple of lizards and beetles, taking down the wizzrobe and octoroks, finding four treasure chests, two of which Mipha pointed out through the water – and then Link slowed down and realized what he hadn’t found.

He hadn’t found a route up to Calora Lake.

Slowly, Link edged over to the other side of the cliff to confirm his suspicion, and then deflated. Looked up.

It still wasn’t the tallest cliff he’d climbed. But in the rain, with dusk just starting to fall over the forest, his fingers scraped and his chest burning, it looked insurmountable.

Still looking up, Link sat down hard. Stared. Swallowed.

Thought of how long each half of the first cliff had taken, and how his limbs trembled by the end of it. How much his shoulder was still burning.

“Oh,” Urbosa sighed, soft and pitying.

Then Mipha was between him and the cliff, making a soft clicking sound he didn’t realize he found soothing until he heard it. Her expression was intent and focused, eyes on him, and when she had his attention, she signed, Just rest for a minute. You have plenty of time. Turn around.

Link turned around, and Mipha sat down across from him, expression pinched in worry.

You know Kass will forgive you if you can’t make it, she reminded him.

But Link wanted to make it there. He’d climbed all the way up here to make it to Calora Lake. He’d tried.

I tried, he signed miserably, wanting Mipha to understand. I did try.

You did, she agreed, painfully soft.

“For the love of the goddess,” Revali muttered, scathing and frustrated, and took off.

He took off straight up, a few feet away from Link, and Link went dead still as he felt a rush of wind blow against his back. The foliage around them wavered and shook, the grass and leaves wind-blown and ruffled.

He’d felt that. He’d watched the flora respond to Revali’s presence, and he’d felt that. Link wavered a little, rubbing his fingers together, and then looked directly at a puzzled Mipha.

I felt that, he signed, slow and tremulous.

Why wouldn’t he, why had it surprised him, why-

Mipha’s mouth fell open, and she was on her feet in a moment. “Revali!”

It took Revali a minute to return, ruffled and annoyed. “What is it? I didn’t take off for the sheer joy of flight, you know. That Rito bard is there, by the way, if you must know-”

Mipha barreled over him, eyes wild and edged with a dangerous sort of brittle hope. “Link says he felt it when you took off.”

Revali froze, and then said carefully, “That may not mean anything.”

“Please,” Mipha said, plain and earnest.

Revali stared at her for a moment, and then at Link, and then huffed. “The things I do for duty,” he muttered, and then, to Link, “Stand up, let’s see if we can get you up without you tearing up the delicate skin of your shoulder.” At Link’s blank look, he added, faintly impatient, “I’ll be creating an updraft that you can ride. You might call it my signature move, or my masterpiece- Revali’s Gale.”

He seemed like he couldn’t resist that last part, flicking his wing in a small, proud flourish, but he also didn’t look directly at Link as he spoke.

Link stared at him for a moment longer, and then, chest squeezing in relief, nodded quickly and scrambled to his feet, grabbing for his paraglider. Daruk paced closer to watch, eyes uncharacteristically narrowed with concentration.

At the base of the cliff, Link and Revali took deep breaths nearly in unison, and then Revali took off – a grunt, and a whirl of wings, and then Link was flying.

Revali twisted around him, focusing his power in and around Link, and Link held onto his paraglider for dear life, eyes wide. The upward jerk was rough, but Link found himself laughing, and even once he’d landed with a stumble on the cliff, it took him a while to stop, leaning against a tree to support his weight.

Thank you, he signed at last, a little giddy with relief and amazement. He paused to wipe the start of tears away from his eyes before he continued. Thank you, thank you.

“Yes, well.” Revali looked a little flustered and confused himself, wings crossed and looking at them like they were strange and new, and then settled on, “Stop groveling, it doesn’t suit you. I already know my magic is a work of art.”

Link laughed a little more, soft and breathless, and let Revali take off without comment. Link himself lingered in place for a few minutes, catching his breath and riding out the wave of emotion, before he finally looked around.

Kass was waiting just across the lake, and Link took the long way around at a slow, steady pace, picking his way over gradually. Kass smiled at him as he approached, but didn’t pause in his play until Link sat down a few yards away, by one of the broken pillars.

“I’m impressed,” Kass said softly, when Link had settled. “It hasn’t stopped raining since I arrived – I expect that made it rather difficult to come. But I see you made it just fine.” Link hummed vaguely and pointed at him. “Oh, my feathers keep me quite dry, and my instrument is designed to withstand most weather events. My livelihood depends on it, you know.” He chuckled a little.

Link hummed again. He was aching with exhaustion, and he decided on impulse that this would be the last thing he did before leaving Faron. Kass tilted his head to study him.

“Ah,” he said softly. “The rain does not agree with you.” Link shrugged. “Well, let us to business then. I believe I promised you a song.”

Link nodded, leaning heavily against the pillar beside him. Kass smiled serenely and began to play.

It was another ode to Farore, Link recognized idly – but this one was less about friendship and a quest than it was the power of storms, gales of wind and the pounding rain and the strike of lightning. The song’s hero forged his determined way through a storm without end, and at the end of each verse, Link listened to the refrain and mulled it over again.

When a lost hero calls down lightning from the sky, the monk responds from a giant mound on high.

It certainly seemed straightforward enough – much more so than Kass’ last song had been, or really, even the one in the desert. Link was already getting up and dusting his hands off by the time Kass finished, and Kass rose his eyebrows.

“Really?” Kass said, surprised. “It seemed to me that the song could suggest any number of things.”

Link smiled a little, made a hushing motion with one finger, and pointed at the mound across the way inquisitively.

“Yes, that’s the mound my teacher believed the song to refer to,” Kass agreed, watching with wonder as Link hiked over, pulling himself up with a grunt.

“Need help with this one, hero?” Urbosa asked, suddenly beside him, with a gleam of anticipation and a touch of Revali’s arrogance. Link didn’t jump this time, just smiled, shook his head, and reached for the Sheikah slate, from which he released a steel traveler’s sword.

He placed that on the mound, and then backed away. Urbosa stared for a moment, and then threw her head back and laughed.

Scarcely more than two minutes passed before lightning struck the metal weapon he’d put down, and the mound burst into shards, revealing a shrine, glowing and proud. Link smiled, pleased and relieved, and pulled himself back up to duck inside.

Thank the goddess, it was a blessing shrine; the tasks he’d undertaken to arrive were enough to prove him worthy.

A set of rubber tights came out of the chest, promising to protect him as much as the helmet Cima had given him, and the monk almost seemed to smile, soft and proud, as Link’s fingers brushed against the cube.

“You have done well the arrive at this shrine,” the monk murmured, and Link almost beamed.

The spirit orb sank into his chest, joining a half-dozen others patiently waiting to be spent, and he let out a soft sigh of relief.

Despite everything, he was growing stronger every day.

The others were waiting when he came back out, Mipha smiling at him wide and dimpled, and Daruk showing all of his teeth, and Link almost chuckled as he gingerly hopped back down.

Kass, still by his tree, looked faintly astounded.

“It never would have even occurred to me,” he murmured with clear wonder, and then smiled at Link, eyes crinkling. “You truly are something quite special. And look- the rain has stopped.”

Link looked up and realized that it was true – even if only for a minute, the skies had cleared. He clicked his tongue a couple times, pleased, and then let his legs fold under him to land with a bump against the pillar he’d sat by before, sighing in relief as the weight of his body redistributed.

There was a beat of silence.

“You look like you could use some rest,” Kass said abruptly, unexpectedly soft. “Perhaps as a treat, would you like to listen to another song? One simply for the joy of music, I assure you.”

Link hesitated, but found that something deep in his heart associated music with comfort. He glanced at the others, found no resistance, and leaned back against the pillar. Then he glanced at Kass and nodded. Kass smiled at him broadly.

“Very good! Do you have any requests, young traveler?”

Link hesitated, and then, on impulse, asked, Do you know any Zora songs?

Mipha’s breath hitched.

“I do, as it happens,” Kass agreed cheerfully. “Perhaps a lullaby?” Link curled up against the pillar. His friends would wake him if anything happened. “Then that is what we shall have.”

Kass started to play, not a tune Link recognized but one he felt.

One that felt like Mipha.

In only a few more minutes, his skin still throbbing faintly but the tension easing out of his muscles, his eyes drifted shut.

Three songs later – he noticed distantly when Kass switched from one song to the next – he was asleep.

Chapter Text

Link started slow the next morning. The stretches didn’t want to come; he started tensing and hissing markedly before he had when he’d been in the desert. He ate an apple to appease Mipha, and decided to skip the salve. He’d be out of the forest soon anyway.

“How are you feeling?” Mipha asked, dangling her legs over the cliff edge with him as he surveyed the road ahead.

Sore, Link admitted reluctantly. He felt better for having rested properly, though Kass had disappeared by the time he woke up, but his body still felt tight and painful, which was much more wearing on the fourth day running.

Mipha clucked sympathetically. “Lurelin shouldn’t be more than a day or two away. From what I remember, it was always the sweetest little town.”

Link shrugged, and when her gaze lingered, gave her a small smile.

I’m okay, he promised her. Just need to move on already.

She softened, relaxing like he’d said the right thing. “Don’t hurry. We’ll be right with you the whole way.”

Link nodded firmly, and at last, with a grunt, pushed off the cliff edge, catching the wind in his glider to sail halfway down the path before he hit the ground, stumbling a little on impact. He shook himself down, put it away again, and didn’t look back, just moving along while he waited for the others to catch up.

They did in a few moments, finding their own ways down, and Urbosa hummed as she recognized the road they were on. “You know, I do believe the road to Lover’s Pond is up this way.” Link gave her a curious look, and she smirked a little, amused. “It’s popular among the straight vai in Gerudo Town. Mauva must have traveled while the road to it was blocked off by monsters, if she wasn’t able to find it. It’s said that if you go there, you’ll find your true love.”

That-

Link’s steps slowed, and he didn’t hear the next few things the others said, his brow furrowing as he tried to catch the slips of memory that flickered through his mind.

Red? Blue? They were blue and wore red? And… something about their skin, a texture- and water-

As usual, the moment fell through his fingers, but this time, for some reason, he almost wanted to cry. He’d felt so close. Like he could almost touch that one, reach out and remember.

Water, Link signed, like that would bring it back. Water.

He’d stopped walking completely, and the others stopped with him. Link stared straight ahead, because it wasn’t the sign for water, that was nothing to do with it. But something, something about some person-

He exhaled and shook his head. It’s gone.

“If it brought you that close, let’s go visit it,” Urbosa said, with soft and welcome sympathy. “I don’t believe you had a partner while I knew you, but there may have been when you were younger. Or perhaps there was simply someone you liked.”

Link glanced at Mipha, but she stayed quiet, arms behind her back and eyes on the ground. He shrugged. I don’t know. Maybe. Is it- left or right?

“Right, up the path.” Urbosa’s voice was still oddly gentle.

“What happens when you get like that, anyway?” Revali asked, with not quite enough dismissiveness to hide his faint concern. “You were pretty out of it for a minute there, staring off into space like a sleepy bokoblin.”

Link huffed at him, trying to summon up annoyance around the lingering ache and exhaustion, but after a moment he answered anyway. It’s like trying to speak, I guess. I can sort of feel the edges of the memory, but not enough to find it. That was… red, and blue, and water. I knew the texture of their skin by heart.

“That’s not a lot to go on,” Daruk said quietly. Link shook his head. “Well, up the mountain we go. Not like we’re going anywhere fast anyway.”

He grinned at Link, taking any heat out of the statement, and Link nodded distractedly, reaching up to rub at his shoulder. He already felt tired and hazy again, but he liked the idea of going up the mountain. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the coast yet either.

Link started walking again, taking his time winding slowly up the path. There was a monster encampment on the water far ahead, just visible from the path, and he regretfully steered far around, making an early start up the mountain.

“There’s rice in these fields,” Revali noted disinterestedly, and Link almost laughed before he nodded and knelt down, harvesting a few sheafs with his knife. It was slow, easy work, and gave him something to look out for as he made his slow way up the trail.

Gave him an excuse to take breaks when he ran out of breath, too. It was a steep, long trail, and Link still, after everything, tired easily.

He stopped to stretch again halfway up; the clear skies were loosening his skin, and he was less sore than he’d been this morning, but barely. The others sat with him, not seeming tired at all, and he repressed the urge to sigh.

“What’s the matter with you?” he heard Revali ask Mipha, thinly veiled concern coloring the question.

“Nothing,” Mipha said, too quietly for it to be true. “Just thinking.”

“Haven’t you had quite enough time for that?” Revali sniped gently, and Mipha let out a distinctly wet laugh. “Exactly. If I had to guess, I’d say we’ve all done more than our fair allotment of brooding this century, so cut it short.”

“That’s terrible,” Mipha choked out, but when Link glanced over she was smiling even as her eyes glistened, her fingers wiping at them delicately. “…Revali? Do you ever miss your husband?”

There was a pause, long and pregnant, and then Revali cleared his throat.

“Often enough,” he said, tight and curt. “Him and- and Thistle.”

Mipha made a soft, sad sound, and that was the end of the conversation. Daruk dropped back to talk to Mipha, the two of them making up the back of the group, and Link tried not to worry about them despite himself.

Lover’s Pond turned out to be a pretty little heart-shaped hole in the earth, with the clearest crystal water Link had ever seen. It was surrounded by wildflowers and a few hearty radishes Link couldn’t bring himself to dig up, and even though not a hint of memory stirred, it had him smiling.

He wished Mauva had been able to find it. It was a beautiful place, with a beautiful view of the mountains and the sea around it.

“Anything?” Urbosa prompted, and Link let his smile fade a little, shaking his head.

He turned and climbed the last few yards to the very top, and spent a few minutes admiring the horizon, watching the waves and the clouds in the far distance – a rainstorm in one direction, an island in another. All of it so very far away. If he looked back, he could even see the Faron rainforest again, and some of the towers.

Absentmindedly, he rolled over the rock beside him, and then jumped, laughing in surprise, as a Korok popped into existence from beneath it, whirling and cackling. “Ya-ha-ha!”

He clapped three times in return, pleased, and then held out his hand for the Korok seed.

He lingered for a few more minutes, frowning as he listened to Mipha brush off the others more and more firmly, and then looked around. There was a lake a little to the west, and without thinking he started to head towards it, tugged there almost as if by an unseen force.

It felt right. Lover’s Pond was sweet, but too flamboyant for them.

Link faltered when he hit the edge of the lake. He took a few steps, stopped, and then took a few more. Looked one way, and then the other, feeling something welling up from somewhere inside him. The edge, the very edge of another memory.

Something happened here, he signed with conviction.

Dizzy and detached, he took a few more slow steps, all of his attention on his surroundings – on the more natural lake he walked beside, swimming with fish. The blue nightshade sprouting along the bank. The craggy rock edges, closing it off into a little private space, and luminous stone ore tucked into the mountain.

Something happened here, he repeated.

“Link?” Daruk prodded, soft and cautious.

Something happened here.

He looked around again, and then, careless of the way the cold water soaked his trousers, waded in, making his slow, meandering way toward the luminous stones, just starting to glow as the sun set. He sat down beside them, slow and deliberate, still looking around. The memory was so close he could almost taste it.

Right here, Link said with finality, his feet still in the water, sitting loosely on the gravel with the luminous stones behind him. And then he gasped, eyes going wide.

(Link remembered-)

(He’d sat on the edge of the shore, just like this, and Mipha had curled up in the shallows, glowing with happiness and all tangled up in his legs, using one thigh like a pillow and the opposite leg like a blanket. His hand had stroked her arm, slow and indulgent, and he could remember how her scales had felt under his fingers.)

(He’d been smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt, and the start of a laugh was stuck in his throat like he was too happy to hold it back much longer.)

(Muzu is going to say you took it too fast, he had paused to sign, Mipha lifting her head as soon as he lifted his hand. She had smiled at him, bright and beautiful and warm.)

(“Muzu doesn’t have to know,” she had said lightly, tracing her fingers aimlessly over his thigh. “And I knew if I left it up to you, we wouldn’t be engaged for months or years.”)

(There’s nothing wrong with that, Link had protested, but it was halfhearted at best, and he’d reached out to squeeze Mipha’s hand before he continued. Do you still want a ring? I know it’s not a Zora tradition.)

(“You want to give me a ring,” Mipha had said, with something painfully close to adoration, eyes warm and affectionate and absolutely infatuated, and pressed a kiss to his wrist when he didn’t deny it. “I’ve always wanted a pearl ring, but they don’t last well unless they’re enchanted, so I’m not sure…”)

(Anything, Link had promised her earnestly, and he’d meant it.)

Link couldn’t breathe.

Link couldn’t breathe.

Link couldn’t-

A jolt of pain brought him forcefully back into his body, and even when he realized that it had come from his teeth sinking into the meat of his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to let go. He thought he was shaking. He was definitely still gasping.

He shook his head at nothing, ears ringing painfully. It was too much, and he bit down again, harder, until he tasted blood.

A sound slammed into Link’s ears and he kicked out blindly, but met nothing but the splash of water and a few inches of backwards progress. He still shook his head  again, his other hand coming up to yank at one ear, and the sound quieted. A loud noise, too wretched to be a scream, came out of his throat again.

One hundred years ago-

Mipha-

Mipha-

(Alone-)

The crack of his head on the wall quieted the ringing for a few seconds, giving him enough room to gasp in another breath, another heartbeat, another moment in his crawling, tearing skin. He had to get out. There was too much of everything. Get out.

Get out get out get out get out-

He was crying and the tears hurt his eyes and the force hurt his throat and he was making too much noise, too much noise, his teeth bit into his wrist and it wasn’t enough to keep him from gagging on the terror so he did it again.

(All his friends were dead.)

(He didn’t want to be alone oh fuck oh fuck it hurt so much-)

(Don’t touch him-)

Crack of his head and the jagged-edged memory disappeared, and he was still gasping, and the light was too bright to keep his eyes open and someone was humming.

Someone was humming?

Link latched onto it with both hands, a soft point in a whirlwind of terror and pain and chaos. Gasping and grinding his head against the wall kept him in his body long enough to find it and listen, and then he was panting around the meat of his hand, and then he was limp and shivering and exhausted and his fucking skin hurt.

And he was still crying.

For a while, he kept listening to the soft, soothing hum; eventually he even registered that it was Mipha, and further, that everyone else was conspicuously (thankfully) quiet. His muscles ached, his mouth was dry as bone, and his skin throbbed, throbbed, throbbed in a slow and painful rhythm that kept his breath hitching. He curled up and rocked gently, listening to Mipha’s melody and shutting out everything else.

Goddess, Link was dumb.

Weeks of denial, weeks of knowing it in the back of his head and refusing to acknowledge it, hadn’t brought his friends back to life; it just kept the knowledge from choking him like a rock stuck in his throat, burning into his stomach like magma.

Selfishly, he wished that thin layer of protection had lasted a little longer. If it had, maybe he wouldn’t feel so close to vomiting with misery.

He couldn’t even bring himself to sit up and face the others. If he sat up, he’d have to say something. He’d have to stop crying and explain. He’d have to admit- and he was so tired. He was fucking exhausted.

But eventually Link had to sit up and open his eyes, blurry and unfocused. He looked down at his hands to assess the damage, following a procedure he didn’t consciously remember – five distinct bite marks, two deep enough to draw blood, all definitely hard enough to bruise. A few other red marks he didn’t remember, most likely also bruises.

He reached up and touched his stinging face next, abrasions along his left cheek and forehead, and then the back of his head, where Link’s fingers stung his skull but came away without blood.

He slumped back again and exhaled harshly, heavy and exhausted, cheeks still wet, and wanted to go to sleep. He wanted to sleep for a very long time, again.

I’m sorry, he signed instead, unfocused eyes on the lake again, refusing to fix on the hazy shapes of ghosts of the past. He pushed his face against his knees and rocked gently, barely giving himself enough room to sign. I’m sorry I failed. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I forgot.

Someone – multiple someones – inhaled sharply. Link flinched, taking a long, shuddering breath of his own, and forged forward.

I’m sorry I can’t do better. I’m sorry I let you down.

“Calm down there, hero,” Revali cut him off, unexpectedly soft. Link snatched his hands to his chest, going tense. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Link swallowed a few times, eyes refusing to come into focus, and tried to summon a response. He’d failed as the teammate he was supposed to be to them. He’d willfully pretended for weeks that everything was okay and they were still alive. He was the only one of them that didn’t die.

I’m sorry, he repeated numbly. And then, Mipha. Mipha, did we…?

He couldn’t finish formulating the question, and Mipha took a long moment to figure out her reply. Her voice hitched and cracked when she finally spoke.

“N-no. We were waiting until after the Calamity was beaten. No matter how long it took.” Pause. “I’d nearly finished the armor I was making for you, and you’d gotten both the rings and the sapphire bracelet. You let me see them early, because you were so excited.”

Link exhaled, long and shivering. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

He didn’t remember. He didn’t remember.

(What sapphire bracelet?)

“You’re going to work yourself up again,” Mipha said gently. “It’s alright. Everything was forgiven the moment you opened your eyes.”

“Mipha?” Urbosa said, in a terse, alarmed way that said she already suspected the answer. “Is there something you perhaps neglected to tell us?”

“Link, may I…?” Link nodded without looking, and Mipha exhaled. “This is where I proposed to Link, some five months before the Calamity struck. I… admit that I did not expect him to remember, and did not want to burden him with the knowledge if it wasn’t necessary. I’m sorry, Link, but you were so overwhelmed already, I didn’t- I didn’t want to be what broke you.”

Link nodded, reaching up to wipe at his face. He understood. He understood.

(Goddess, he and Mipha were going to marry and now she was dead and he wasn’t and what was he even supposed to think about that?)

“Everything is okay,” Daruk said, so firmly that Link almost had no choice but to believe him. “All of us are making the best of a bad situation, and sometimes that doesn’t turn out perfect for everyone. Mipha- you and Link were going to marry?”

“Yes,” Mipha said, very quiet and small.

“Then I’m glad you were happy together, and I’m sorry you two didn’t get a chance to follow through,” Daruk said. “Link… You let yourself connect the dots, little brother?”

Link grunted a resigned, miserable affirmative. I’m sorry.

He couldn’t bring himself to put together the signs to elaborate, too much of everything overwhelming his capacity to communicate. He didn’t want this. He wasn’t ready. He shook out his hands, trying to throw off some of the backbreaking tension.

“Everything is okay,” Daruk repeated, a little more comfortingly. “You wanna tell us what’s going through your head?”

Link’s breath hitched. I don’t know. I’m scared. I don’t want to be alone. I can’t be alone. I’ll, it, I-

“Link,” Revali and Urbosa said sharply, in nearly perfect unison, and Link cut himself off and shuddered violently, reaching up to rub at his shoulder before he tried again.

It makes me feel like my skin is being torn off my body, Link said at last, still unable to even try to look at any of them. As if that was a reaction that made sense.

“Oh,” Mipha said, quiet and painful. “Link-”

“You’re not alone,” Urbosa interrupted calmly, and when he finally looked up, dazed and disoriented, her gaze was steady. “We’ve been here all along, and we won’t be leaving anytime soon. And remember what we learned the other day?” She paused, and when Link was unable to summon a reply, she continued, “Revali was able to lift you up the cliff. Perhaps we can help more than we realized.”

Link shuddered, an acute and rippling shiver down his spine, and then nodded. Okay. Okay.

He didn’t know what any of their signature magic was, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask. Not right now.

Goddess, Mother Hylia, he was supposed to know these people.

“Now, drink some water, eat something, and find a place to spend the night,” Urbosa said, instead of pushing. “I don’t expect you’ll be doing anything else until at least tomorrow afternoon anyway.”

Link nodded tiredly, and then reached down to fumble with his Sheikah slate.

“We’ll all be right here when you wake up, Link,” Mipha added, quiet and kind. “I promise, we’re not going anywhere.”

Despite himself, Link looked around, going from champion to champion – but each of them nodded solemnly, even Revali, stationed as if to be on lookout. Like a team, like friends. Only then, finally, did Link relax.

He’d be okay. He’d be okay.

Eventually.

Chapter Text

Link rose early the next day, not that it ended up amounting to much; he stayed low among the crags, watching the water and shielded from most of the rest of the world. The others stayed quiet too, even going so far as to keep their voices soft or sign amongst themselves, which he was grateful for. He rocked quietly to himself and worked through a few small snacks, baked apples and roasted bird drumsticks and radishes, making up for how little he’d eaten the previous day.

He shivered every so often, feeling chilled and uncomfortable, but it was probably the altitude; the mountain was high and he didn’t have as much distracting him today.

Eventually, Mipha came to sit beside him, and he looked at her questioningly. She gave him a small smile and asked, Would you like a nice surprise? He blinked, then nodded. Look at your reflection in the lake.

Link cocked his head, but decided to trust her, leaning forward. He started.

There was a large seafoam caress on Link’s left cheek. He lifted his hand to it, as if to check, watching his reflection do so in perfect unison, and then traced it with his index finger. Roughly handprint-shaped, gentle and splotchy. He looked at Mipha, whose smile had widened.

It’s yours, he signed, not even a question.

Yes, Mipha confirmed, smiling widely. It’s from when you were a child – you took a tumble on the way into Zora’s Domain and scraped yourself up, and I healed you when you came in. Mother and Father were both surprised at how vivid the marks were.

She showed him her palm, the grass green mark he’d noticed as soon as he’d woken up. His mark – like Daruk had in the crook of his elbow. Like Revali on his wing, and Urbosa in tiny brushstrokes at the nape of her neck.

Link pressed his hand flat over the matching mark and smiled at her, a little silly. He thought that it was easy to remember how he’d fallen in love with her.

I’m so glad you got that back, Mipha continued, looking almost tearfully happy about it. Did you- did you remember my proposal? Is that what did it?

Link’s small smile fell, and hers followed almost immediately; he could almost see the apology coming to her lips and rushed to reassure her. It was, I think it was right after. You said Muzu didn’t have to know. And that you wanted a pearl ring.

Mipha’s smile returned, almost blinding in its delight, and Link smiled back, relieved.

Yes, that was right after, she agreed happily. That was a very good day together. Her smile dimmed a little, and he cocked his head in question. You don’t… mind that I didn’t tell you right away, do you? I didn’t mean to keep it secret, not from you, but…

Link hesitated, mulling it over for a second, and then shrugged and shook his head.

No. I was, I mean, I’m still kind of- He faltered, and she reached out, pressing a hand… through his, slipping through like air. He stopped, his breath catching.

There wasn’t really a nice way to say that one more thing might have broken him – might have made the difference between him letting them close and driving them away, or between facing his destiny and fleeing, or, even now, recovery and regression.

His stomach turned, and he shivered.

I know, she signed back gently. It’s alright. I... well, I wasn’t there when you first went into the tank, but I was the first one there afterward. Personally, I think you’re taking everything quite well, all things considered. He huffed a half-laugh, and after a moment, she relaxed and smiled back. We’ve all had a hundred years to move past what happened, even if much of it is a little, well, hazy. Time is time, I suppose.

…I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Link said, more solemn than the broken, numb apologies of the day before. Her smile fell again, fragile and thin, her shoulders slumping a little.

I’m sorry I wasn’t, too, she said in return, which made a lump swell in his throat in a way he hadn’t expected. He just nodded, small and stiff.

“I am curious as to why you kept yourselves a secret from us all,” Revali cut in unexpectedly, making both of them jump even though his voice was blessedly low. He dropped down a respectable distance away and raised an eyebrow at them. “Even I mentioned my husband once or twice.”

Link looked at Mipha, curious, and Mipha flushed a little, then more as Urbosa and Daruk drifted over too. She fidgeted, not looking at anyone.

We were both determined to remain committed to the fight against the Calamity first and foremost, she signed at last, faintly melancholy. We agreed that our duties came first, our relationship second – though of course we made time for each other when we could.

Link listened intently, trying his best to commit all of it to memory, for all the good it would do him; he would have to add it to his adventure notes later. Just to be sure. To keep it safe.

Mipha hesitated, and then continued, more stiltedly, We knew that, given our respective positions, our union would be… noisy, to say the least. So we thought it would be easier to keep it private until such a time that it was convenient to deal with it all. Even my father didn’t know… and Link told me he hid it from Zelda as well.

Link shrugged when the others looked at him. He had no idea whether he’d been truthful, but he didn’t know why he’d lie. His hand wandered up to touch his cheek again, fingertips splaying across the soulmark he knew was now there.

…He wondered if he could get the others back too. If he could just. Remember.

Mipha cleared her throat, and he looked up. Did you remember anything else, besides our conversation? About me?

Link’s cheeks warmed over, because it wasn’t quite a ‘no’, but the only other answer he could think to give was ‘I remember how much I loved you.’ He shrugged. She deflated, and Link hastened to fix it. I remembered how I felt about you then. How happy you made me.

Mipha’s face lit up like the dawn of spring, and Link relaxed, smiling with only a little embarrassment. Daruk chuckled.

Should’ve known you’d be the cutest couple, he signed warmly, and then, more seriously, We’ve still got business to talk though. Link deflated and nodded, another shiver creeping down his spine, and Daruk continued, Revali’s signature magic worked, so there’s a chance the rest of ours will too. I don’t want you banking on it, mind, but we’ll try and step in if we see an opening. Just let us stay close, alright?

Link nodded, faltered, and then asked, slow and shaky, You can follow me wherever I go, right?

No linear path needed, Daruk promised, with a more sympathetic smile than Link deserved. Link nodded distractedly, still uncomfortable, and took a deep breath. Something wrong, brother?

How did you all get to the shrine? Link asked instead of answering. Daruk studied him for a moment, frowning, but Mipha broke in to answer before he could push.

I suspect our purpose called us to you, as the last of the champions, she signed, not quite gently enough to keep him from flinching. Finding you was simply instinct. I was the first to arrive, but it still took several days, as I had to… to get my bearings first.

We all did, Urbosa agreed heavily, and then, to Link, I was the last to reach the shrine, having spent nearly a month trying to reach Little Bird. She looked, for once, more tired than frustrated. The malice around the castle made it… somewhat less intuitive than finding you was.

Link suspected she was putting it lightly, but her stoic expression invited no further inquiries. He looked at Revali, who sighed with exaggerated irritation.

“Second, if we’re keeping count,” he said, and did not expand upon that at all. Link softened though, because he’d gotten a good feel for Revali’s nature by now, and he thought… he thought Revali might have been worried about him too.

Which makes me third, Daruk agreed with a small grin, drawing Link’s attention back to him. And after that, it was more or less an old mountain’s waiting game. We went in and out of reality a little, made time pass faster, but one of us was always with you, little brother.

When Daruk was done, Link closed his eyes and nodded, taking a few deep, slow breaths. His friends had been there all along. They weren’t planning on leaving. Everything was going to be okay.

“What is it?” Mipha asked quietly.

I don’t know, Link admitted, grasping at the cloth of his hood between sentences like it could give him better grip on himself. I’m nervous. I’m scared.

You’ve been thrown off and need to regain equilibrium, Urbosa interrupted, and then, when the others focused on her, It’s become a common enough pattern at this point. Link needs to regain his balance after a shock. Fine. We can work with that.

Link gave her a small, grateful smile. It’s not more trouble than it’s worth? he asked teasingly, with much more honest anxiety than he intended to let on. Urbosa rolled her eyes.

If it is, I’m not exactly in a position to argue, she pointed out. Link’s smile faltered, and she sighed. No, it’s not. Daruk spoke well yesterday. You, in particular, are doing the best you can in what has become a worse-than-worst-case scenario. Her eyes flickered down significantly to his stomach, and he shifted backward uncomfortably. It’s not exactly going to help anyone if you collapse from a physical or mental breakdown. What happened yesterday?

A meltdown, Mipha explained, when Link came up at a loss. She gave him a small, apologetic smile, and then continued, A critical breaking point, essentially. He told me they were more common for him when he was a child, and less so as he grew up and learned to adjust. I only ever saw him have two, and they were both in extreme situations as well.

Link nodded a little; that sounded right, from what he remembered of yesterday. Just thinking back on it was enough to exhaust him, bringing the chill into sharp relief, and as soon as he yawned, Mipha’s eyes were on him again, soft and fond.

Why don’t you take a nap, Link? she suggested. It’s safe here, and you look like you need a little more time.

Link nodded, curled up on his side, and listened to the sounds of the wind and the water.

Sometime after the sun had passed its highest point, Link stirred awake, blinking sleepily, and realized that the others were huddled on a nearby ridge like they were watching a show of some sort. He yawned, squinting over, and then assessed himself.

His body ached slightly, and he still felt cold and clammy, though sweat plastered his hair to his forehead. He was uninterested in fighting, or even really in traveling, but some of the soreness of Faron had gone away, it didn’t hurt quite so much to run through his stretches, and his nerves weren’t so raw.

He ran two rounds of sword drills as well, and when the others still hadn’t budged, padded over to join them curiously.

None of the others looked over, and Link hummed loudly until Mipha did, blinking in owlish surprise. What’s happening? he asked her, and she beckoned him closer and then pointed.

Over the ridge, by Lover’s Pond, a Hylian man and a Gerudo vai were staring at each other across the water, both of them fidgeting awkwardly. Link looked at Mipha, who smiled at him, eyes glittering with amusement.

“It’s been twenty minutes,” she said, very quietly.

Link considered that for a moment, and then snorted. After a little thought, he opened his Sheikah slate and spent a few minutes flicking through the options, and then slid down and started to head over. Mipha sighed despondently, but made no move to stop him from ending the apparent entertainment.

He approached the Gerudo vai first, who gave him an assessing glance before decisively shaking her head.

“Not you,” she said dismissively. Link had to hide a smile.

“Do you need help?” he asked her.

She glanced down, eyes narrowing when she found the Sheikah tech, but after a moment she just shook her head decisively.

“No,” she scoffed. “I have already found my true love, thank you. I’m just waiting for him to finally approach me.” She glanced significantly across the way. The man on the other side of the pond covered his face.

Link cocked his head, and then pointed at her, then at the man. The vai flinched.

“Absolutely not!” she squeaked, and then cleared her throat and said more firmly, “Absolutely not. Ashai made it very clear that voe are expected to approach vai, not the other way around.” She rubbed her cheek, looking flustered. “This would be much easier if I were into vai like all my friends back home…”

Link had to smile that time, shaking his head at her, and then went to circle around the pond and approach the Hylian man, who squeaked loudly as he approached.

“I’m getting to it, I’m getting to it!” the man insisted, waving his hands frantically. Link cocked an eyebrow at him. “This is about that gorgeous Gerudo over there, isn’t it?” Link nodded. “I’m going to talk to her! I am! I didn’t come all this way to find true love just to not talk to girls!” Link waited. The man flushed. “I promise, I just- I need a blue nightshade to give to her! That would give me the courage to approach.”

Link just barely refrained from rolling his eyes, amused. He nodded again and turned away. There were some blue nightshade down by the lake, it would only take a minute.

When he returned, the man turned bright pink even as he accepted the flower.

“Where did you even…?” Link pointed. “Oh. Oh, u-um…” The man stole another glance at the Gerudo. “I- I can’t! Can you give it to her? But tell her it’s from me!”

Link rolled his eyes, grabbed the man by the shoulders, and started to physically steer him around the rim of the pond. The man squeaked and flailed, stumbling along with Link’s help, and by the time they reached the Gerudo, she was laughing at both of them.

“I appreciate your help,” she said to Link, and then, to the other man, “Well?”

The man sputtered loudly for several seconds, gulped, and finally held out the flower. “M-my name is Wabbin! A long time ago I decided I would give my true love my favorite flower when I confessed! I have come here every week for a year waiting for you! Please accept this blue nightshade!”

Link, wincing at the volume, wondered if he’d really needed to shout all that.

The Gerudo, amused, accepted the flower and twirled it delicately between her fingers, softening as she watched it spin. “Blue nightshade is my favorite flower as well,” she said warmly, giving Wabbin an assessing look. “My name is Perda, and I came all the way from the desert searching for love. But your confession was weak. Do you really want to go out with me?”

“Y-yes!” Wabbin declared, punching the air. “Thank you for asking! I will absolutely go out with you!”

Perda sputtered, and Link smiled to himself, pleased with the results of his interference. Wabbin turned to him, beaming.

“Thank you for your help! Please accept this in return!” He held out a red rupee. Perda jabbed him in the ribs. “W-what?”

“Don’t be cheap, he was very kind to nudge you along,” Perda scolded. Wabbin flushed.

“O-of course! Here!” He produced a silver rupee instead, and Link accepted it, trying not to laugh. Wabbin was going to regret that in three, two, one… “Ah, dammit…”

Link shook his head at him, and then waved at both of them and turned away, returning to his friends as the couple behind him started making their way back down the trail, talking avidly already. Apparently Wabbin was interested in the dagger Perda had at her waist.

“You really are too helpful for your own good,” Revali sighed, but he looked more amused than anything, shaking himself down as if to settle his feathers. “Are we quite done here?”

Link considered, glancing wistfully back at the lake, but after a moment he shrugged. This isn’t a great place to camp, he admitted, sitting down to run through his stretches. Goddess, how many times a day did he have to do this? It was exhausting, and his muscles ached. I can maybe eat something and then move along to Lurelin.

Mipha nodded encouragingly. “You’ll like Lurelin, I promise. It’s not very busy, but the residents are all quite kind.”

A little wistful, Link shrugged, kept quiet for a few more minutes, and finally settled, cross-legged, to flick through his slate. No stored meals, and he didn’t want to build a fire just then, but he had some roast bird drumsticks still and some carrots. He’d need to pick up some wood soon though.

“Anyone gonna ask?” Daruk said nonsensically, and when no one answered, he sighed. “Fine then. Mipha, Link- your relationship took quite a shift yesterday. You can leave it up in the air if you want, but it’ll be easier if you figure out what you wanna do about it before it gets complicated.”

Mipha was very still, but, oddly, she relaxed a little when Link looked at her apprehensively. “It’s up to you, Link,” she said quietly. “You’re the one who still lives. The actions I can take are quite limited.”

Link’s fingers twitched, and he had to look away before he signed, I can’t- I don’t know what I want. And. I don’t think it matters very much right now. He gave Mipha an apologetic look, but she was already nodding. There’s so much everything that I think kissing is the least of my worries right now.

Daruk snorted, looking a little apologetic himself. “Well put, little guy. I just wanted to make sure you know where your priorities are.”

I do, Link said shortly, and he grabbed a few things from his slate, munched on a carrot, and got up to start walking.

The sun quickly fell as they traveled, the shadows shifting across the ground, and for the first time, Link let himself wonder if it would be worthwhile to catch a horse. It would certainly make travel faster, and Hylia knew he had enough of that in his future.

He heard the sounds of the ocean before he reached the town, waves in the distance funneling through the other end of the canyon. A woman went by, walking the other way, and he shifted away from her, offering only a short nod of greeting that she returned with a wave.

By sunset, they’d reached Lurelin, and he didn’t do much more than climb to the shrine before he stopped, contemplative, took a deep breath, and then asked, What do you do when I’m in towns or stables?

Mipha gave him a small, gentle smile. “It depends. Sometimes we scout the surrounding area. Sometimes we keep watch for monsters. And occasionally, we just wait. We’ve gotten very good at that.”

Link’s heart clenched, and he had to take another few breaths before he nodded stiffly. Mipha paused, studying him, and then added,

“You’re not at fault for what happened, Link. We were all caught by surprise, and…” Her voice softened pensively. “You didn’t exactly make it out unscathed either.”

Link wasn’t consoled, for all he knew that she was right, and finally, he shrugged, crossing his arms around himself, shivering in the cold ocean air. She watched him for a moment, and then left it alone, voice lightening.

“It’s been quite an excellent month, all told – I’d forgotten how beautiful Hyrule is, and somehow the wilderness only makes it more so.” Mipha smiled wistfully. “But I’m glad you’re visiting Zora’s Domain next. It will be good to see home again.”

Link gave her a small smile, grateful for the comfort, and finally pushed himself up again, nodded to her, and then disappeared into the shrine.

Yah Rin’s shrine turned out to be a relatively simple puzzle, as shrines went, so he was back out in under half an hour, humming in pleasure at the buzzing spirit orbs in his chest. He hoped there was a goddess statue in Lurelin. Mipha smiled at him when he came back out, and Urbosa was frowning, but, he was able to tell by now, not at him.

“That’s quite a lot of shrines already,” Urbosa said, when she caught him looking. He made his way down the slope slowly, cocking his head for her to continue. “I – and, I assume, the others as well – only had a few, to prove ourselves worthy of the divine beasts and to strengthen our spirits enough to wield them. Your shrines are, I assume, of Hylia directly?”

Every one of them, Link agreed.

“Then what are they for?” Urbosa prompted. “To wield your sword, perhaps?”

Link shrugged. Not that I know of. Something deeper than his heart told him that his sword was his birthright, a partner to his soul. But the shrines do strengthen my spirit. I trade them to a goddess statue for a blessing, and I get… stronger. Slower to tire, less fragile. I already feel a lot better than when I woke up.

Urbosa looked thoughtful, and when he glanced around, the others did as well.

“Makes sense,” Daruk said at last, warm and pleased. “Explains how you’re recovering so fast, if you started out worse than we thought.”

Link shrugged again, a little uncomfortable.

Hylia is good to me, was all he said, and then slid down the rock slope to avoid further conversation. That led him into someone’s bullpen – oops – and he had to climb out, and by the time the others caught up they’d apparently agreed to leave the topic alone.

“If I remember rightly, there’s a goddess statue right by the bay,” Mipha said. “I could lead the way, if you wished.”

Link smiled a little and nodded firmly.

Mipha smiled at him, and the others lingered back as they made their way over. Mipha’s memory proved accurate, and Link relaxed at the sight of the little stone statue, smiling kindly from its place in the rocks. He knelt in front of it, closed his eyes, and bent his head.

O sworn goddess of love and light…

Only a minute passed before he shivered, relaxing in relief as warmth bloomed through his body. There wasn’t an offering bowl by this statue, but he took out an apple and left it by her feet anyway, and then turned and smiled at Mipha.

“Feel better?” she asked lightly, and he nodded. She smiled warmly, eyes sparkling, held out her hand, and prompted, “Then let’s go ahead and make your rounds, shall we?”

Link brightened immediately, nodded again, and stood to follow her back into the village.

Chapter Text

There was something subdued about Lurelin Village.

Link didn’t notice it at first; he met a man who taught him how to sail with a raft, and another who pointed him to a gambling house and asked for a loan of a hundred rupees in return for part of the winnings. (Amused, Link had handed it over, ignoring Revali’s grumbling.) A visiting Gerudo pointed out an island just barely visible from the coast. But it was the market that tipped him off.

“Sorry,” the owner said as soon as he appeared, weary and apologetic. “We’ve been fresh outta everything for hours. You have to show up by the afternoon if you want anything these days.”

There was a trace of bitterness in her voice that made Link cock his head, and he spent a few minutes flicking through the communication rune before he asked, “Do you need help?”

She raised her eyebrows and snorted, crossing her arms and letting her expression fall into something defeated. “No, no, sorry. Don’t mind me.”

Frowning, Link decided not to push it. He bought some arrows and moved on, catching up the others back at the shore, and Mipha caught his mood almost immediately. “What is it?”

Link looked around, picking out a few things he hadn’t noticed earlier – most of the fishing boats were still out, even though the sun was setting. The market, as Mubs had admitted to him, was bare. The people walking around looked tired and, in many cases, a little thin, and some of them – like, he recalled suddenly, Armes and Numar both – had bandaged injuries.

Something’s wrong here, he said at last, belatedly.

“Presumably if you keep asking everyone for their life stories, one of them will mention it,” Revali pointed out carelessly. Link shuffled a little, uncertain, but eventually nodded. Revali was probably right, after all.

He found Rozel sitting on a dock, face wrinkled with worry but creasing into a ready smile when Link approached. When Link asked if he had any stories about the area, his face lit up.

“Certainly I do, I’ve lived here my whole damn life,” he said with obvious pride. “My family’s lived here since before the Calamity, in fact, or so my mother told me. My daughter went and broke tradition, though, moving off to Hateno…” He waved his hand dismissively, revealing a smattering of colors that covered his entire palm and much of his wrist and forearm. “But never mind that. What was it you wanted to know?”

Link mulled the question over for a few moments, and then pointed out over the ocean to the island Flavi had indicated to him.

“Eventide Island? Funny stories about that place, even if it’s technically not that hard to reach by boat.” Rozel mulled it over for a few moments, and then continued, “A family friend landed there during a storm and was told in no uncertain terms that he was to go no further. And I heard a Rito flew there once, passed out, and woke up back where he’d taken off from.” Rozel shook his head. “It’s not worth exploring. There’s bad weather on that island.”

Link clicked his tongue a few times, thoughtful, and then noted down the island as a possible shrine location. He wasn’t sure yet how he’d get to it – he’d fall and drown if he tried to fly that far now – but he’d find a way.

What about the ruins in the east? he signed without thinking – Flavi had mentioned them to him while she was mourning her failure to reach Eventide.

“Sign’s a soldier’s tradition, not a fisherman’s, son,” Rozel scolded without heat. Link flushed, dipping his head in apology, and repeated the question with his communication rune. “Oh, the ruins! Cloyne’s boy, that is, Garini, enjoys spending time there – a scholarly type, you know. Studied real hard to learn enough of the old tongue to be able to read the monument, but wouldn’t you know it, right as he started making progress, an earthquake broke the thing into pieces. He was more crushed than the monument, if you ask me. But he still spends plenty of his time there, trying to learn what he can.”

Link hummed, noting that down before he forgot, because if nothing else it sounded interesting. Rozel had plenty of stories, in the end, and told Link about sunken treasure, and a handful of village children that had tried their best to start a blueshell colony in the pond, and a particularly graphic story about a man Rozel had known who’d been castrated by a Razorclaw crab, which Link thought may or may not have been true.

“Why is the village so unhappy?” Link asked at last, when Rozel seemed to be slowing down. Rozel deflated all at once, sighing heavily, looking more than his age.

“Fishing’s been rough lately,” he admitted, shaking his head. “A monster encampment managed to take root on one of our best fishing grounds, and that swordsman, Oliff, he’s good but he’s not good enough to drive them out. We’ve been making do with what we have left, but it’s tough. I’ve been thinking about going out to help bring in the catch, myself, but I’m a bit old for it.”

Link frowned, and when he moved on he was still thinking about it, mulling over the issue. He was starting to feel feverish, hot and cold by turns, and the idea of hunting down a monster camp was almost repulsive at the moment- but it would be nice to be able to help.

He stopped to offer to help a harried-looking woman finish hanging her laundry, and she spared him a weary smile, catching her child by the back of the shirt before he could pounce on Link in eager curiosity.

“It’s very kind of you to offer, but I have it well in hand,” she said tiredly, turning to lift the boy onto the elevated deck beside her. “Stay there, Kinov- oh, but there is one thing.” Link tilted his head, and she gave him an almost apologetic look. “I understand if there’s nothing left, of course, but I’ve been busy today and don’t quite have the ingredients for dinner. If you could find me some goat butter and some hearty blueshells, I would be very grateful.”

“Is it seafood paella?” Kinov piped up, eyes wide and sparkling with excitement, and his mother gave him a small and tired smile, nodding slightly. He punched the air and cheered. “Yes! Thank you, Mama!”

The mother looked at him, and Link tilted his head, looking at Mipha. Mipha gave him a small, affectionate smile. “You have goat butter left, don’t you? Hearty blueshells are local to the area, so you should be able to find them wild.”

Link nodded firmly, and gave Kinov a small wave, receiving an enthusiastic one in return, before he took off at a jog, heading towards the shore. Most of the others hung back, apparently content to spend time watching out for the village, but Mipha came with him.

With nothing else to do just yet, he rolled up his trousers and sleeves, took off his gloves, and waded into the shallows, looking around for anything that stood out. Mipha knelt with him, her body not disturbing the water around her, and after a few minutes, she found what she was looking for and pointed it out. “There’s one, Link.”

It was a little snail with a gorgeous sapphire shell, spined and shimmering slightly. Link turned it over in his hands and nodded again, giving Mipha a small smile, and then paused. She cocked her head, and he looked from her, to the blueshell, and then to her again.

Finally, he made a low, annoyed noise, tucked it away, looked at her and signed, You and blueshells?

A startled look flashed across her face, and renewed affection followed at its heels. “They’re my favorite food, but they’re not local to Zora’s Domain. You’d surprise me with them when you could.”

Link clicked his tongue happily, pleased to have a little more information to slot into the overall picture, and then, satisfied, waded deeper into the water, looking for more of the little creature. After a beat, Mipha followed, slow and cautious, keeping careful pace.

“Have all of your memories been like that so far?” she asked quietly, and he glanced up to give her a questioning look. “Connections, associations. Something on the tip of your tongue.”

Everything except that memory by Lover’s Pond, Link confirmed wearily. Sorry.

Don’t apologize, she returned firmly, and then gave him a small smile. And don’t mind me. I’m trying to get a better idea of how you’re feeling, that’s all. Has it gotten easier since you woke up?

Link ran his fingers through the wet sand, lifting it up just enough to watch it billow away through his fingers, and then signed, Mostly. I don’t feel so disoriented anymore, and I know I can trust you and the others to fill in a lot of what I don’t understand. I- He faltered, making brief eye contact, but she didn’t look either frustrated or overly worried, just intent. He continued, cautiously, I can still feel an echo of who I used to be. I remember loving you but not being with you. I know how to use the weapons I find but I don’t remember learning. Everywhere I look there’s the outline or the shadow of a past, but not the whole picture.

You’re born again, but not untouched, Mipha signed thoughtfully. Link shrugged. It should get easier with time. I’m sure the gap won’t feel so large after a year or two, and perhaps in a decade you won’t even notice.

A decade. The thought was almost unfathomable, but to Link’s surprise, the corners of his mouth turned up a little; the idea was comforting. Maybe.

He went back to searching for blueshells, working his way down the shore, and several contented minutes passed in silence before Mipha spoke again. “Is your scarring better? You still seem to be moving gingerly.”

It’s still sore, Link admitted, feet dragging through the water, light dancing across them as he moved. Not as bad as Faron, but I think it’s going to rain here too, later. He stuck out his tongue, annoyed. It’s tight.

“Severe burns often contract when they heal,” Mipha said gently. “And scar tissue is stiffer than regular skin. You’re probably feeling some combination of those.”

Link reached up to rub his face, sighing a little when the cool water ran down his cheek and neck, and then paused when he realized he was touching Mipha’s soulmark again. He lingered there for a moment, and then, slowly, signed, We are still friends, aren’t we? You and me and everyone?

“Of course,” Mipha said reflexively, and then hesitated. Before Link could worry, she amended, “You and I have always been friends before we were anything else, and that hasn’t changed. The others… I think used to be more teammates than friends.” She smiled at him. “That’s changing now, certainly. I think it’s for the better.”

Link relaxed, nodded confidently, and finally went back to hunting for blueshells.

Under Mipha’s guidance, he turned back when he had close to a dozen, making his way back to Kinov’s mother’s home – he realized belatedly that he hadn’t asked her name. He gave Mipha a questioning look as they drew near, and she gave him a small smile before breaking off to join the others instead; they’d gathered around a small pond a way up from the village.

His bounty went into a small bowl from his Sheikah slate, then a wrapped block of goat butter, and he went and found her where she was playing a clapping game with Kinov. There, he waited for them to finish, and then held it out.

Surprise and gratitude flickered across her face, and she accepted them with a smile. “Thank you so much. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Link nodded shyly, and when she headed for the cooking pot outside her house, hovered next to her long enough for the woman, Kiana, it turned out, to start teaching him the recipe as well. Kinov played noisily by himself, and another child, Zuta, popped over to make eyes at them until his mother fondly bopped him on the nose and sent him to play with his brother.

Zuta had a little dot of color on the tip of his nose, bright orange, and when he caught Kiana’s eye, he tapped his own in question. She chuckled.

“Not my brightest moment,” she said, “but I couldn’t help it. He had the cutest little nose when he was born.”

Link smiled too, and leaned over to watch her stir the paella with the fluid ease of long practice. He popped inside the hut for plates when Kiana asked him to, one of which went on a rock, unserved for now, while Kiana dished out the food to her two children, then Link, then herself.

Trying the food, Link made a few delighted sounds that made Kiana smile at him, and for a few minutes that was it, but when no one explained, Link pointed at the empty plate in question. Kiana smiled wryly, anxiety lining her eyes a little.

“That’s for my husband, Sebasto. He should be back soon, but he’s always a little late these days, trying to get in another net or two.”

Link gave her a solemn nod, and then gestured to Zuta with his elbow, drawing Kiana’s attention to the way Zuta was sneaking the dog bits of seafood. Kiana started to scold him, and Link smiled a little, digging into the food.

Sebasto showed up when Link was nearly halfway through his meal, looking weary and downcast, though he smiled when both his children waved and cheered as soon as they noticed him.

“Hello, you two, yes, I’m home- who’s this?” Sebasto cocked his head as his eyes found Link, who inclined his head respectfully.

“His name is Link, he talks with a funny little slate instead of his mouth!” Zuta chirped, waving his spoon and accidentally spilling some of his food. “Oops.”

Sebasto raised an eyebrow at Kiana, who gave him a weary smile. “He was kind enough to provide some missing ingredients for dinner, so I invited him to eat with us. Come, sit down, there’s more than enough left and it’s still warm.”

Sebasto sat down with a thump, grabbing for the plate and starting to take most of what was left. He sat back as soon as his plate was full and regarded Link thoughtfully, and then said, “Do you know how to use that battle axe, son?”

Link preferred broadswords when he could find them, really, but his body remembered how to use the double-bladed axe he’d found nearly as well. He nodded. Sebasto continued to regard him, frowning in clear consideration. Link noticed a few injuries on this one, too, where he must have tried to fish on the occupied beach, and a bright orange mark on his elbow that must be from meeting Kiana.

“How well?” Sebasto prompted.

Link smiled a little and thumped his chest proudly, and Sebasto snorted.

“There’s a monster encampment on a beach west of here, Aris Beach,” he explained, pushing his food around his plate. “It’s a big one, nothing to sneeze at, so I’d get it if you take one look and turn around. But I’d appreciate you trying. There’s nowhere else ‘round here with that many fish, so losing it was a big blow.”

Link gave him a more solemn nod, making a mental note of the location he’d referenced, and went back to eating. Sebasto dug into his own plate with gusto, practically inhaling it, and Kiana gave Link a surprised but grateful look.

Link’s first time taking on a monster camp had been a while back now, when he was clearing the road to the desert, but this would be his first one on a beach. He hoped anxiously that he wouldn’t have to try and fight in the water, but given what the fishermen looked like, he had a bad feeling about it.

He’d pick up some arrows before he left.

At the last small monster camp before the large encampment on the water, Link sat down on a box and flipped through his Sheikah slate, frowning. A night’s sleep had done him good, but he could still feel the encroaching rain, and the heat of his face was starting to annoy him. And now-

“What is it?” Urbosa asked, the first to notice his worry.

Melee, four, he signed one-handed, still scanning through his inventory. Bows, two. Shield, three.

Two moblin clubs, a battle axe, and a sledgehammer, plus two spiked bokoblin bows, two soldier’s shields, and a spiked boko shield. He’d been careless about picking up the gear of the fallen monsters. He slid back off the crate, reaching up to rub his face; his fingers felt cool on his skin.

I’m going to double back and pick up some of the dropped weapons, he signed wearily. I shouldn’t have ignored them.

“Why don’t you pick them up on the way back?” Urbosa proposed. Link looked back at the encampment and then to her again, frowning. She and Mipha both smiled, and, in almost perfect unison, said, “Bokoblin drown.”

Link barked out part of a laugh, eyes crinkling in a small grin, and nodded gratefully. He made his way over to the shore, still out of sight of the bokoblin lookouts, and knelt to start untying the raft before he suddenly paused. He looked over the encampment again. He frowned.

“Ah,” Link said, to catch the others’ attention, and then pointed at the very top.

He’d only come across a handful of red bokoblin before, probably because they fell with hardly any effort on his part. Blues were more common, but not particularly difficult. Black bokoblin took some concentration and care, and he preferred to disarm them before they could land blows with their better weapons.

He’d never seen a white one before.

“The Calamity must be gathering its power,” Revali said grimly, and then, to Link, “Silver monsters have been infected by the enemy’s malice. You’ll want to exercise caution. They’re a little bit too intelligent… for a monster.”

Link hummed noncommittally, crouching down to chart his route up the encampment. It had a few parts to it, a couple of lookouts – he could probably take out the two nearer ones before sailing and then the last when he was closer. The other archers were harder to spot, but he thought he could pick them off after he got the last lookout, and as long as the silver and black monsters didn’t have bows, he should be alright.

One arrow, two arrows, and then he hopped lightly onto the raft, tugged the rope out of place, and pushed forward with a Korok leaf off the nearby palm tree.

Everywhere he looked, his friends were there, marking the enemies to watch out for; Revali warned him about an archer that wielded fire arrows, and Daruk kept an eye on the silver monster on top. Link fired a few more times, aiming carefully, and while none of them were enough to kill, he aimed for the legs so they stumbled and fell, and they tumbled, thrashing and wailing, into the sea.

Once the raft landed, he worked his way through the encampment with deliberate care, taking it one level at a time. A harsh wallop with a club sent a black bokoblin flying off the edge and into the sea, and he ducked before the moblin could do the same to him. Stomped on its foot, grabbed its wrist, and threw it off with a loud grunt and a twist that made his shoulder protest wildly.

“Link!” Daruk warned, and Link skipped back before the silver bokoblin could dart down the steps towards him.

For good measure, Link dropped another level down, buying himself some time, and swapped the hammer for the axe, tucked that on his back, and grabbed his bow instead. He nocked a shock arrow, and only then did he advance again. He’d seen the way its beady eyes fixed on him with an unnerving malevolence; he wasn’t taking chances.

As soon as he caught up to it, he loosed the arrow. It dropped its weapon, leaving it to clatter onto the wooden platform, and Link darted forward and swung the axe, aiming to knock it off the structure like its fellows.

It grunted loudly, planted its feet, and not only did it muscle through the spasms caused by the shock arrow, it moved with the blow to reduce the impact and send it stumbling onto another part of the platform instead. Link gritted his teeth, and then swung again, forcing the bokoblin further back, tossed the axe behind him, and stole the weapon it had dropped instead, leaving it unarmed unless it got to the axe.

It screamed in rage. Not the animal grunts or bellows Link had grown accustomed to, squeals of aggression or pain, the normal sounds of bokoblin in a panic or an impulsive attack.

No, it screamed in rage, and Link’s fingers spasmed on the handle of the stolen blade, unnerved.

Even with the bokoblin disarmed, it was still a tough fight; Link was hard-pressed to keep it away from the abandoned axe, and though the weapon in Link’s hands was almost terrifyingly sharp, no matter how deeply it bit into the monster before him, it just didn’t want to fall.

Just within Link’s line of sight, Mipha mimed something, and without hesitation, Link stabbed the frontmost blade into the bokoblin’s gut, and then tore it out the side, leaving it gushing monster blood.

It fell, spasming like a landed fish, and when it didn’t get up again, Link let himself sink down too, breathing in gasps. One of his hands found the tear in his upper arm, where the bokoblin’s claws had bitten deep. His skin screamed, and he felt sweaty and feverish and sore.

All of the bokoblin below had stopped splashing.

Link didn’t look up until he saw Mipha’s hand move as if to cover his. Nothing happened, and he blinked blearily, looking up to meet her crestfallen gaze. She pulled her hand back, tucking it against her chest as if ashamed, and said quietly, “One of Tera’s fairies could help you, if you wanted.”

That took Link a moment to process, but then he nodded, forced his breathing to even out, and tapped through his Sheikah slate until he could release one of the fairies.

The little sprite fluttered for a moment, and he could just see it blink in surprise, then look him up and down. It smiled at him, blew him a kiss, and then darted closer to tap his arm, then his shoulder, his stomach, and his forehead, each touch a gossamer veil that wiped away the pain and fever in neat, strong strokes.

He sighed in relief, and then blew it a kiss back before it flew away, disappearing into the distance.

“A job well done,” Urbosa complimented quietly, striding forward to sweep her gaze across the many platforms. “The structure is a pity, though.”

Link nodded halfheartedly, shifting forward to examine the corpse of the silver bokoblin, which had stopped twitching. He frowned, and then reached out and tore something out of its ear, which he held up to the light. It glimmered a pretty red in the sunlight.

A ruby earring. He glanced down at the bokoblin’s other ear. It was missing its fellow.

“Yes,” Revali confirmed, seeming to read his mind. “Silver monsters have a unique sort of evil in them. It likely took that off one of its victims.”

Link pressed his lips together, and then tucked the earring into his slate. He couldn’t afford to let the jewel go to waste, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave it here.

Then he started putting weapons away.

He took his time heading back, weaving between the shallows and the shore; he grabbed the weapons he had left behind before, favoring the better-made lizal weapons, and caught some porgy and blueshells as well. The fairy had taken away most of the pain, but he was still pretty tired, and a faint throb told him that rain was coming sooner rather than later.

Link made it back to Lurelin in the late afternoon, managed to let Kiana know that he’d taken care of Aris Beach, and then doubled back to borrow Rozel’s raft, because treasure hunting sounded like more fun than anything else right now.

“There’s still a Sheikah pedestal east of here,” Urbosa pointed out. “You haven’t gone in that direction yet.”

That was probably the ruins. Link shrugged and winced, and Urbosa sighed, but didn’t push. Link grabbed another Korok leaf, untied the raft, and pushed off into the bay, and with a small smile and a wave of a fin, Mipha dove into the water to help him look. Link smiled.

They spent the early evening like that, searching the water for fallen treasure chests; it was a good way to unwind from the trials earlier. Even when it started to rain, Link stayed out, looking for the spot he’d marked on the map earlier as the most likely location for the treasure Rozel had mentioned.

At sunset, Urbosa caught his eye and raised an eyebrow, and Link sighed, nodded, and with a grunt, started to make his way back.

He tied the raft back to the dock and made his way east, skirting around the bay and beside the cliffs. Daruk hummed, tilting his head up to regard the rain falling from the sky without even blinking. “You sure you don’t want to take a break, brother?”

Link resisted the urge to reach up and rub his shoulder again and shook his head; he was still buzzing a little with excitement, and even with the exhaustion he wasn’t quite ready to settle down yet.

I don’t have to finish it this evening, I just want to look, Link clarified, gesturing onward. Maybe get an idea of what I’d need to do. Probably I have to gather the pieces of the shattered monument before anything else. I’m certainly not going to finish that this evening.

His shoulder twinged just at the thought. Daruk chuckled, giving him a warm grin. “Fair enough, little guy. Let’s have a look-see then.”

Link was surprised to find a man at the ruins – Garini, he assumed, crouched beside the easily-recognizable shrine pedestal and examining the markings along the edges.

Garini looked up as Link approached, giving him a weary smile and a wave. “Coming to look at the ruins with me?” he asked. “I could use a second pair of eyes.”

Link nodded, coming closer to crouch beside him. Garini gestured.

“Rumor has it there’s a couple of these laying around Hyrule,” he explained, “but any information about what they’re for has been pretty much lost. A lot of them have stone tablets with odd instructions near them, but they’re all in riddles.”

Link nodded along, and Garini perked up a little at his attentiveness.

“Of course, some of them don’t have anything,” he continued, a little more enthusiastically. “And a couple have books or songs rumored to be about them. There’s one on Mount Granajh that a researcher a couple decades ago spent weeks trying to understand, and one southeast of Mount Taran that a Zora man once actually completed, but he won’t talk about what happened after that. And-” He cleared his throat, flushing slightly under Link’s steady gaze. “Sorry. I’ve been really into stuff from the ancient civilization for a long time.”

Link smiled a little, gesturing silently for him to go on. Garini beamed, sat up, and continued with renewed enthusiasm,

“There’s one on Puffer Beach that’s completely unmarked, and no one can figure out where it came from or what to do with it! And one by Gerudo Town that has a legend associated with it, one in the Highlands and another in Rabia Plain that a bard once sang me a song about- oh, and Horon Lagoon and Washa’s Bluff too! Oh…”

Garini trailed off, and Link glanced up and smiled at him, holding out the Sheikah slate for him to see where Link had been copying his words down. Garini, already shrinking in on himself looking embarrassed, blinked at it and let out another soft exclamation.

“Are you going to visit them?” he asked eagerly. Link nodded. “Will you tell me about them? I’m not really in good enough shape to travel, but…” He waved his hands eagerly, and Link chuckled and nodded again, then gestured for him to go on. “Ah! Well, I don’t know that many more, but… there’s, um, there’s one on Rist Peninsula, and another on Gut Check Rock, and… west of Rito Village, that’s right!” He smiled sheepishly when Link cocked his head. “I usually ask people about them whenever they pass through. Oliff has been very helpful, he really gets around.”

People seemed to really like Oliff. Link smiled a little, signed thank you, and then pointed at the shattered monument not far away. Garini deflated.

“I don’t know what that said, sorry,” he said, abashed. “And I’ve found most of the individual pieces, I think, but I have to keep going back and forth, because all of the language is really context-dependent, and-” He waved his hands again, frustrated. “I don’t think I can really figure it out without seeing it all together, but I can’t lift them.”

Link hummed, getting to his feet, and Garini, looking uncertain, got up with him.

“Do you want me to show you where the closest one is?” he asked, looking hesitantly hopeful. Link nodded, and Garini led him over to one side of the cliffs. “I’ve tried with this one a couple times, but…”

Link grunted, considering it for a moment, and then knelt down, braced himself, and heaved.

Immediately, pain bolted all the way from his shoulder, through his chest, and into his stomach, every muscle twinging in protest. Link instantly let go, sitting down hard with a pained gasp. The monument shard barely budged.

Garini and Mipha reacted so close together that it would’ve been funny if Link wasn’t still catching his breath. Mipha knelt beside him, visibly worried, and Garini crouched with his brow furrowed in concern.

“Are you alright?” Garini asked. Link nodded, rolling his shoulder with a hiss, and then shook his head regretfully. Garini gave him a wan smile. “That’s okay. Thanks for giving it a go.”

Link would have to figure out another way to put it together, or maybe find a copy of what it had said somewhere; he wasn’t going to be able to get in yet. He sighed, vaguely resigned, and glanced at Mipha to give her a small nod, not quite enough to relax her.

He stayed there for a while longer, sighing at his map. Large swathes of blank gridded space mocked him from the surface, marked in only a few spots by stamps where he’d earmarked towers and shrines. The others clustered around him, providing what they could – Revali directed him to Rito Village, Daruk gave him the approximate location of Gut Check Rock, Mipha was able to point out Horon Lagoon. Finally, Link tapped the tip of Cape Cales, then Mount Taran, and then the nearest tower marker and hummed in question.

“That sounds perfect,” Mipha assured him, and he smiled a little, nodding firmly.

Chapter Text

Link stepped out of Muwo Jeem’s shrine only a minute or two after he went inside.

Revali’s eyebrows rose. “Another one of those? Lucky you.”

Link shook his head without looking at him, passed the shrine, and sat on the edge of the cliff, dangling his feet over the edge. He could see Eventide Island from the cape, and another shrine on a tiny island in the water, which he marked on his map. He could see the ocean, stretching for more miles than he could imagine.

His temples pounded faintly, and he sighed, kicked one leg into the thin air, let his boot bounce off the rock wall, and signed, Test of strength. And then, more resigned than upset, Fucking hate guardians.

Then, decisively, he turned around, flopped belly-first on the ground, and flipped through his slate for a bit. He had the wood and flint for a fire, and some fish and apples to roast over it. He built one up and started preparing, and the others, taking the cue, settled around him for a break.

“Link,” Mipha said quietly, with a tone of gentle concern that drew Link’s attention. “Do you remember what happened before you were placed in the shrine?”

Link exhaled and shook his head, setting down his knife to respond.

I’ve been having nightmares, he admitted, frowning at the ground. But it’s hard to tell what’s going on. Mostly it’s pitch black, and I’m being moved, and everything hurts. And I can hear shouting but can’t tell how far away it is. He shrugged. I’d guess that’s from then.

To avoid saying more, he picked up the knife again and finished cutting up the apple, and then started to slide pieces of it and a bass onto a stick.

There was usually a second part to the nightmare, where he stopped moving and his skin was being shredded away, or peeled, flayed, something awful and agonizing. But he didn’t want to say that.

“They were meant to help, you know,” Urbosa said, uncharacteristically melancholy. Link tilted his head at her. “The king set all of his scientists to work overtime and poured as many resources as the kingdom could afford into their research. All of the work with ancient technology was meant so that you and Zelda would never have to fight alone. We never thought that the Calamity might corrupt it.”

Link reached out to turn the skewers, considering that solemnly.

Rhoam had been desperate for Link to save his daughter.

He must have been scared, Link said at last, and then set his slate on his lap, flipping through his weapons and elixirs to consider his options.

As soon as he was finished eating, he nodded to the others and went back into Muwo Jeem’s shrine, letting the Sheikah tech transport him into the pocket of space within. Only silence greeted him this time, but that was fine. He was ready.

The fight took two shields, two clubs, and a bow, but in the end he got the spirit orb and a two-handed thunderblade, and he came out sweaty and pleased. The sea air chilled him the moment he stepped out again, but he was smiling through his shiver.

From there, they hiked up to Mount Taran, sneaking past a hinox on the way. The pedestals Garini had referenced were easy to find, glowing brightly on a plateau southeast of the peak.

“Oh, dear,” Urbosa said as soon as she saw the marker, crouching down in front of it. Link frowned and went to look with her, and then snorted, flopping onto the ground with a sigh.

He was kind of tempted to take a nap instead. He rubbed one eye with his fist, sighed, and then went to scout out the surrounding area.

Link’s body was sore, but not rain-sore; he was tired but not exhausted, and he had plenty of food left. It wasn’t like hinoxes were difficult to take down anyway.

“The orbs and pedestals were a hallmark of ancient Sheikah tech,” Urbosa noted, eyes on the three pedestals set around them. “We should keep an eye out for any more of the orbs in particular.”

Link nodded, picked out the weakest hinox, and slid down the mountain towards it.

That task took him most of the rest of the day, but it left him much better off in terms of weaponry; each of the hinoxes had, of course, had the weapons of the dead slung around their neck like a necklace of charms. There was a chest with a gold rupee under the eldest hinox. He even got some honey; there were nearly half a dozen hives around the middle-kin hinox, and Link didn’t think there was anyone who would mind if he claimed them as part of his prize.

After he carried the last orb up to its pedestal, he set it inside and sat down to stretch the ache out of his skin while the shrine rose up out of the ground. By then he was tender, but it wasn’t too bad; he’d take it easy tomorrow and be fine. It shouldn’t even be difficult, since Mipha had mentioned that he was now within a day’s hard walk of Hateno.

Nowhere to wash off, Link grumbled, wincing at the stickiness of the hinox blood and viscera that was part and parcel of a hinox harvest, caked all the way to his shoulders and most of his front. Revali snorted at him.

“You should have thought of that before making such a mess of yourself,” he said archly. “There’s a spring west of Meda Mountain, if you’re willing to take a detour.”

Something in the back of Link’s mind perked up in interest, and he let a small smile slip, nodded, and finally got up to finish up the shrine. Tawa Jinn gave him their blessing, and with a bow, Link left.

Revali led the way towards the spring, and Link followed him as absentmindedly as not, yawning into one hand. Daruk chuckled. “A good day’s work, eh, brother?”

Link smiled and nodded. Both shrines he’d collected were reasonably difficult, and he was most of the way to the nearest tower. He was finally out of the rainy area, he’d collected some fresh meat and some honey, and overall he felt very pleased with himself.

It was getting to be dusk by the time they reached the spring, so Link set up a fire and some meat to roast before he dropped in, fully clothed. He hummed in delight at the springwater’s heat, and Mipha and Daruk both looked openly wistful.

“Plenty of these up on Death Mountain,” Daruk said, feet hanging off the edge into the water without making a single ripple. “They’re a favorite with elderly folk, anyone with bad fatigue cracks or old bones. One of the things I’ve missed, if I’m honest.”

He sounded wistful too. Link gave him a small, gentle smile and slipped a little further in, scrubbing the muck off himself and his clothes.

“Yes, there are springs in Hebra,” Revali sniped in response to something. “Why wouldn’t there be?”

“Because it’s a frozen wasteland?” Urbosa suggested, smirking when Revali hissed at her irritably. Link snickered to himself, dipped back, and pulled out his ponytail, making a cursory effort at washing his hair too.

“Ah, fire,” Daruk muttered just as Link was pulling himself out, which made Link frown in puzzlement. He glanced at Daruk, and then followed his gaze to the sky.

His shoulders dropped.

“The blood moon rises once again,” Zelda murmured in his ear, the first time he’d heard her voice since the last blood moon. “Take care, Link. It’s not yet our time.”

Link faltered for a moment, head tipping back to stare at the sky, and then jerked his head sharply, shaking off the twisting in his chest. Instead, Link spun around, looking back the way he’d come.

Lurelin, he signed, dismayed and anxious. And Highland Stable, and the road through the canyon-

“Link-” Mipha started, soft with worry, but Link was already flipping through his Sheikah slate. “Please, at least wait until tomorrow, you’ve been traveling all day.”

Link hesitated.

Lurelin, he repeated plaintively, because he’d just cleared that beach, and they’d been so happy to have their fishing spot back, and he didn’t want them to lose it again so soon.

“Tomorrow,” Mipha said, so desperately that Link had to give in.

Link’s shoulders dropped, and he nodded.

So it was the next day that he went back to Lurelin, not even pausing to talk to anybody on his way to Aris Beach, where he went through the entire process of taking down the encampment again.

Then he picked up all their weapons, used the warp function he’d barely touched, and went to Highland Stable, where he shot down every mounted bokoblin that stalked the road between it and the Bridge of Hylia. Then he warped to the lake tower, flew down, and took out the lizalfos on the bridge for good measure. His shoulder, his stomach, his knees all burned, the whole of his skin on fire until he struggled to tell where he’d been wounded.

He downed a hearty potion, forcing his wounds to knit, then a stamina one. His ears rang with a distant, deafening whine.

“Slow down, little brother.”

“Oh, for the love of Hylia, this is ridiculous…”

“Link, please.”

He swiped through his slate and warped to the canyon stable, flew down, and worked his way backwards up the path, grimly tearing through the bokoblin there, and finally the hinox that blocked the way. Some of his weapons broke, and he picked up new ones, and he threw some away in favor of the ones he tore off the hinox’s necklace. Monster blood soaked into his clothing, leaving stains.

He hamstringed the hinox on one side, and then on the other, and then he spun around and around with a hammer to slam into the hinox and send it tumbling off the edge, where he watched it fall to the lake below.

Then he swallowed, gagged, retched, and stumbled over to collapse to his hands and knees and vomit up what little he’d eaten that day. His head echoed hollowly with the threat of dizziness. His mind spun trying to keep up with the events of the day, the whole thing a blur.

Link vomited again.

Darkness had just started to creep in on the edges of his vision when the second fairy appeared, its fingers pressing to his forehead and spreading a blessed coolness through his body.

He swallowed thickly, pushed himself far enough back that he was no longer threatening to fall over the edge, and gave the fairy a nod before it flew away.

He was still breathing in gasps. His muscles felt like jelly.

The sounds he hadn’t realized he was filtering out slowly came back into focus.

“-realize he’s no good to anyone if he kills himself trying to make things easy,” Revali was snarling, so outraged that he was actually squawking with it, harsh and raptor-like.

“I don’t know, it’s never been a problem before,” Mipha said, audibly on the verge of tears and nearly frantic. “He was- it was different. I don’t know how to get him to slow down, he’s, he’s never needed to like this.”

“A-ah,” Link managed, just loud enough to draw their attention, and shakily pushed himself upright just to sign, But I did it. I did it.

He’d cleared the roads again. He’d done a good thing. He’d finished it. He did it. He accomplished something.

(He hurt, oh Hylia, his body throbbed with the pulse of his heart and burned with every breath.)

“You hurt yourself,” Mipha said, trying to sound gentle but mostly just sounding wrecked. “Link, you made yourself sick. You didn’t need to do that.”

I did it, Link repeated numbly, feeling his eyes sting and burn, his vision starting to blur. His mouth still tasted like bile. I, I proved I could. I’m good at this. It’s not going to be like last time. It’s not going to be like last time.

“It’s not- Daruk,” Mipha begged, her voice cracking, and if he squinted and blinked the tears away, Link could see that she was crying too.

“Deep breaths, Link,” Daruk said, too gentle, too soft, deep and steady. “In, one, two-”

Link was hyperventilating, he realized dimly, but he shook his head, refusing the instructions. No. I have to be okay. I have to be able to do this.

“Link, brother, you went through hell,” Daruk said softly, too sad, too worried. “It’s okay for you not to be up to your old self. If there’s one thing we’ve figured out, it’s that. You’ve got nothing to prove, goro.”

But if I wasn’t good enough then, how am I going to be now? Link fumbled out, his sign clumsy and nearly unrecognizable in his exhaustion. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks, and he was still gasping.

He gagged again, clapped a hand over his mouth, and leaned over, but all he vomited up this time was mucus. His fingertips tingled.

“You have time to prepare now, goro,” Daruk said, voice steady, firm, steady, unshakeable. “You’re going to be ready this time. You’re going to be okay-goro. You’re going to be fine.” He paused, and when Link failed to summon a reply, he went back to counting. “In, one two three-”

Link closed his eyes and breathed, shuddering and strained.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, breathing along to Daruk’s count, but it was a long time, well into the darkest part of the night. His head pounded dully, and at some point he started interrupting his deeper breaths with coughs instead of gasps, his throat itchy and sore. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and sniffled.

It was when his head was starting to dip and bob that Mipha finally spoke again, soft and scratchy. “You need to go somewhere safe to rest, Link.”

“Ugh,” he mumbled in reply, and then, without thinking about it, fumbled with his slate, warped one last time, and hit the ground and closed his eyes again before he could even register where he’d gone.

“He’s going to be okay, Mipha,” he heard Urbosa say, very quietly. “This was just a very bad day. That’s how battlesickness goes.”

“I know,” Mipha croaked, her voice pitchy and broken. “But I- Urbosa, he’s hurting so badly. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“Did any of us?” Urbosa countered without heat, and Mipha let out a sob.

Link fell asleep before he could reach out to comfort her.

Mipha realized that Link was awake before Link himself did; he could tell because she launched straight into counting one, two, three, four-

Link breathed along. It wasn’t as hard as it had been the day before. But it was hard.

He hurt. Sweat plastered his hair to his face and neck. His head pounded. His throat was sore, his chest tight. And every patch of scarring burned viciously. He didn’t even want to think about moving. He didn’t even want to open his eyes.

He breathed, coughed, and breathed again.

“Link?” Mipha called out at last, her voice gossamer soft. “Can you hear me?”

Link nodded stiffly, and then signed, Hurts.

“I know, love,” Mipha said, just as gently. “You put your body through a lot yesterday. Can you sit up for me?”

Don’t want to.

“Please?”

Slowly, shakily, Link pushed himself upright. His body trembled. He felt cold. He reached out blindly, patted around him, and then leaned against a small pillar beside him. Shrine key. Had to be.

He turned his face into it and moaned, his weight falling heavily against the support. He felt hot, but he was still shivering.

Hurts, he told her. The movement of his body pulled his twisted skin. The shivering set his nerves alight, and his fists clenched and unclenched.

“I know,” she said patiently. Said again? “Link, can you do something for me?” He nodded. “Can you eat a bowl of cold simmered fruit?” He grunted in protest. “Please?”

He opened his eyes, wincing at the light, and fumbled, pawing through his Sheikah slate and nearly spilling the bowl as soon as he got it out. He ate it left-handed, one shaky bite at a time, smearing and dropping more than a little of it on himself. But he got it down his aching throat.

He felt cold. He pushed it away and shivered.

“He could go back to Gerudo Town,” Urbosa said quietly, oddly subdued. “They wouldn’t turn away a vin looking like he does.”

“Anything that’s going to get the foolish child to a doctor,” Revali snapped.

“I’m for it,” Daruk said. “Mipha?”

“I’ll try,” she murmured, and turned towards Link, whose eyes wouldn’t seem to focus. “Link? One more favor for me, please? And then you can rest.” Link nodded. “Can you warp to Gerudo Town and find Zayla? It would mean so much to me.”

The task sounded exhausting and painful, and Link didn’t even want to stay upright much longer. He felt dizzy and achy and his breath hitched and gasped with each little twitch, and each gasp brought a cough that made his body jerk. But it was Mipha asking. Mipha didn’t ask for much.

Two, Link signed resentfully, but then he pawed at his slate again, clumsy and graceless, squinted, and after a few failed tries, finally warped there.

Hot. It was hot in the desert. He shivered.

The next few minutes were flashes: at some point he got up from the shrine and stumbled away, and after that one of the voe that hung around the town walls had him by the arm and was begging the gate guards for something, and then Link was inside, being steered through the bazaar, too loud, too busy, making his head pound. His legs didn’t want to support him.

His skin burned. His skin burned.

And then he was in a building, cool shade – cold, too cold – and a voice he distantly recognized and then he was sitting on something soft, coughing into his hand. Bed, a bed.

“How did you get into this condition?” Zayla demanded, and then she was pushing a bottle into his hands, and then helping him drink it, and it was cool and it tasted like magic and his head cleared a little. Zayla sighed at him. “In some ways you vin are worse than voe.”

Sorry, Link signed after a long moment. The last day was still a blur; it was only the dried monster blood on his clothing that reminded him what he’d been up to. Had he really done all that in only a day?

Zayla softened subtly. “You have a fever and a cough- are you dizzy?” Nod. “Confused?” Nod. “Aching?” Nod. “You’re sick, you silly little vin. Again. Do you never learn?”

Link blinked at her blearily. Finally, he noticed Mipha’s nearly frantic face, and Urbosa’s not far away either. He shrugged, breath catching as it pulled something.

Blood moon, he signed at last. Monsters, canyon road.

Zayla’s eyes narrowed. “That was only the night before last. You left us more than two weeks ago. Don’t tell me…” Link shrugged, hissed, coughed. Zayla scowled at him, but something had eased around the edges, approval or warmth. “Foolish vai. Are you in pain?” Link nodded, past lying, his skin simmering like the embers of a fire. “Of course you are… Hylia’s sake. Luckily for you, I’ve received some supplies since last we spoke.”

Link blinked at her owlishly, and she rolled her eyes. Briefly, she disappeared out of sight, and Link blinked a couple of times, then looked at Mipha, her face pinched with worry and her hands tucked tightly into her lap, making her whole posture tense. She bit her lip.

“Are you with me, Link?” she asked at last. He nodded. She swallowed hard, head dropping as she exhaled. “Goddess, I was so worried- Link. Please. Please, never do that again.”

Link was still a little slow to follow, but he reached up to rub his face, processed it, and then met her eyes and signed wearily, Okay. She stared at him anxiously, and he rubbed his knuckles against his head, and then expanded carefully, I’ll listen. When you tell me to stop. Promise.

He remembered that much. All of them had been protesting, even Urbosa. He’d just been in too much of a state to listen. Worked up and… afraid.

Remind me, he added, for good measure, and then coughed again.

Mipha exhaled, shaky with relief, and then nodded. “I will.”

Zayla returned then, holding two more potion bottles, one of which she gave to him. “For the fever and aches.” He drank it, and she gave him the next. “And the pain.” He drank that one too, fast enough that Zayla snorted. “Yes, I thought so. Now, from the look of your clothes, you were fighting quite a bit.”

Link’s fingers tightened around the bottle, and he resisted the urge to shrug again. He hummed instead, soft and reluctant, avoiding Zayla’s gaze. She huffed.

“Yes, that’s what I thought. Fine, I won’t press, but on one condition: a trip to the Hotel Oasis is no longer a suggestion. You may consider it doctor’s orders.”

Link blinked at her. She gave him an amused look.

“Romah is particularly experienced at working with scar tissue. It is a side effect of Gerudo culture. And…” Her voice dropped a little into a more serious cadence. “If battlesickness played a role in this incident – as it may or may not have – a reduction in stress would be beneficial.”

Link put the bottle down, hesitated, coughed, and asked meekly, How did you know?

Zayla rolled her eyes, but the line of her shoulders softened.

“One doesn’t earn scars like yours doing anything fun, little vai,” she said quietly. “Go to sleep. The medicine will help, but rest will help more. I won’t ask any more questions about what happened.”

Link glanced at Mipha, who gestured for him to lay down, and, after a long moment of hesitation, he curled up on his side, letting himself down as slowly as he could; Zayla’s potion had eased the fire, but every fast movement still yanked at his nerves. Twice he paused to cough again, grimacing at the way it jerked his body.

It felt like an eternity before Mipha started humming, long enough that he opened his eyes again and looked at her, but as soon as their eyes met, she smiled at him sadly and picked a tune.

He was asleep in minutes.

Chapter Text

It took two days for the fever, dizziness, and aches to fade, though the cough was taking longer to kick. Still, that was all it took for Zayla to let him go with an admonition to be gentle with himself and a reminder about Romah, and then Link was out again.

He’d already sold the monster parts and gems he’d collected by then, and Urbosa had assured him that she’d kept Revali and Daruk up to date on his recovery, so the last thing to do before he left was… visit the spa.

He was a little excited about it, even if he was embarrassed as well. But Mipha seemed to be looking forward to it almost more than he was, encouraging and firm. He thought that maybe she was most keen on him… on him taking the time to enjoy something nice, just because it was nice.

That was an embarrassing thought, too.

Link went inside and straight to the front desk, dressed once more in his Gerudo clothing, and when Romah looked up from her records, her eyes sparked in recognition. “Ah, are you Link?” Link nodded, and Romah smiled. “Zayla told me to keep an eye out for you. I do enjoy a challenge.” Link shuffled. “Oh, don’t worry, little vai. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself plenty.”

Link turned pink and coughed in surprise, and Romah laughed.

Her hands were covered in faint marks, so many of them that it was difficult to make out individual colors; they blurred together in a shimmering, iridescent rainbow, all over her palms and fingers.

She led him into a more private room, where she directed him to undress and then lay belly-down on a cushioned table. He fidgeted a little when she considered him, but all she asked was, “Would you prefer me to refer to you as a vai or vin?”

With a grateful, shy smile, Link indicated the first. Romah smiled back, and then gestured again, so he squirmed onto the table and fidgeted a little more, unsure of the position. Even knowing she had probably seen him in much more vulnerable states, he was a little glad Mipha hadn’t followed him in.

Romah hummed thoughtfully, and after a moment, she said, “I see what Zayla meant. Some of this will be a little painful, but I should be able to loosen these up nicely. Enjoy it where you can; this is meant to be a pleasant experience.”

Unsure of how to respond, Link just hummed, and twitched a little when some oil went onto his back. Then Romah’s hands followed, smoothing it up and down, and he shivered, already starting to feel his muscles loosen like knots as her fingers passed over them. Stings of pain made him twitch and scrunch his nose, like bandages were being torn away inside him, though Romah was right - it wasn't that bad. But he was still uncertain right up until she started on one of his shoulders, massaging it in a firm circle that, after the first few rotations, made the tightness he’d gotten so used to… fade.

Link’s breath hitched, and Romah chuckled softly.

“Yes, that’s the response I was looking for,” she said with warmth, and tapped Link’s shoulderblade gently. “That’s a very pretty green your soul has.”

Then she kept going.

She wasn’t always quite as gentle; Romah was a Gerudo woman and she certainly had the muscles to prove it. Not everything was as nice as the careful manipulation of his back, either; she would pinch and pull, twist the skin of his arms and squish the scarring back and forth. A couple times Link whined loudly, at which point Romah would take a break, returning to one of the more soothing motions until Link settled again.

All of it, though, released tension in waves that made Link shiver, unwinding in places he didn’t know he could unwind, pain fading in patches he didn’t realize were hurting. Less than halfway through the massage, he was nearly dizzy with the relief alone.

He cooed, and Romah paused for a split second, made a soft ‘aw’ sound, and kept going.

Romah kept up a constant stream of quiet conversation, not really seeming to expect his participation; she told him about some of the old Gerudo who visited her most often, about Riju’s mother who used to come, and her own brief foray out of the walls of the town before she settled on her trade and came back. Link hummed along, liquid and content and half-listening, just shifting a little to give her better access as her fingers kneaded into his thighs, his calves, ankles and feet. He flexed when she told him to, and winced when she twisted especially hard, but mostly, he drifted.

He turned over without hesitation when she asked him, and what was nice on his back was even better on his substantially more scarred front. She tapped the side of his chest in silent question, and he nodded, quick and dazed. Link squirmed a little as she worked over his shoulder, chest, and stomach, forehead pinching, but she was patient and careful, and any sparks of pain faded quickly.

It felt so nice. He hadn’t realized his body could feel nice.

Romah worked over his arms with the same attentive care, shoulder to elbow to forearm to wrist and then rubbing his palm and fingers between hers, and then finished at his neck and head, gentle motion on his temples and in his hair.

“Alright,” she said at last, quiet and cheerful. “You’re all done.”

Obediently, Link ‘mm’ed and rolled off the table, then stretched tentatively, testing his skin and muscles, and felt a smile stretch across his face. He was a little stiff and sore, it was true, nothing Romah hadn’t warned him about – but it had nothing on how he usually felt.

Link cooed, stretched again, chirped a few times, clapped twice, coughed twice, and then spun on the ball of his foot, delight dancing over his skin. Zayla had mentioned trying to get his scar tissue to loosen up, but he hadn’t realized it would be like this.

Thank you, he signed cheerfully, unbothered by the fact that Romah probably didn’t know sign, and started to get dressed again.

Romah laughed. “I take it you’re feeling great. That’s good, little vai. Make sure to come again whenever you like, okay? I’ll be sure to book you in special. I’ll even tell Zayla you came like you promised.”

Thank you, Link repeated, and all but skipped out.

Once he met up with the others, he could warp to Mount Taran, and then on to Hateno Tower. He was looking forward to it.

I think I was more upset about everything than I realized, Link admitted, perched on top of Hateno tower, halfheartedly trying not to look at his friends.

“You think?” Urbosa jabbed gently, and gestured for him to go on. He shrugged.

Everything, he repeated. Being the only champion to survive, and waking up without any memories, and knowing that I’m going to have to face Ganon like… He waved at himself, hesitated, and then forced himself to sign, I think Daruk was right, and I’ll just have to approach it differently. But it’s still scary. I failed once before, with my body in much better condition, and I’m going to have to try again.

“It’s too much to put on a child,” Revali said fiercely, and it was at once exactly and not at all like the things Link had heard him say before. He scowled when Link looked at him, feathers bristling in irritation. “Don’t look at me like that. You are of an age where you ought to be apprenticed to your father, or to a trusted family friend. You should not be solely responsible for the kingdom’s wellbeing. Obviously the stress is making you sick.”

He sounded, absurdly, irritated that he even had to explain this. Link blinked at him a couple times, stunned, then covered his mouth and laughed, a mixture of relief and affection flooding through him from his chest outward.

Revali was a good friend, actually.

The laughter sent Link into a coughing fit, and it was a few moments before he caught his breath, shaking himself down; he couldn’t wait to get over that, and the sore throat that went with it. But he was still smiling faintly when he finally replied.

It’s okay. I have all of you with me, don’t I?

Before any of them could reply, he grabbed his paraglider and jumped off the tower, steering himself carefully down to the looped road below.

There was another camp of monsters in the ruins there, with another silver bokoblin at the heart; Link worked his way through them with care, circling around it and picking them off mostly with his bow. He didn’t go for the silver until the rest were all down, and while it got a couple of hits in, it still wasn’t a hard win.

This one had a trophy too – a sapphire ring on one of its fat fingers, which Link cut off before he took it.

I should really think about getting a change of clothes, he signed ruefully, sliding into the cold lake with a wince to wash off the worst of the blood and viscera, again.

“If you’re lucky, Hateno will still have a dye shop,” Mipha said encouragingly. “You could get another outfit and add some color.”

“Some color that isn’t monster blood,” Revali deadpanned, making Link laugh a little.

Maybe green, he signed. Green would be nice.

He stayed in the water for only a few minutes before the chill drove him out, shaking the excess water off like a dog and grimacing at the way his fringe plastered against his cheeks. He tugged them off his face and shook himself down again, sighing quietly, and then coughed a few times.

“On to Hateno, little brother?” Daruk asked cheerfully, rising to his feet. Link nodded, starting to walk down the trail and giving the ruins a thoughtful look.

“This was a riding track once,” Mipha explained. “We visited it together a few times, but your favorite was the one by Lon-Lon Ranch, since it was so close to your home – a little southeast of Castle Town.”

Did you ride? Link asked, the question coming out like second nature by now. She smiled, wistful and a little sad.

Only with you, she signed back, and his cheeks heated up a little.

The road from the riding track led them on to Ginner Woods, where Link allowed himself to split off and wander. The forest was thick with bokoblin, but it also had beetles and crickets, and some mushrooms that Link cut and collected, and acorns that he scooped off the ground and snacked on.

“Have you ever considered washing your food before you eat it?” Revali sniped, and Link snorted.

Not really, he admitted bluntly, and popped another into his mouth just to watch Revali ruffle his feathers in outrage. He was still smiling about that, barely keeping his snickers from escaping his mouth, when his ears caught a distant sound and he turned his head.

He picked out the two girls stuck up a tree before he consciously registered the frantic shouting. Two bokoblin were lurking and hopping below, a blue and a bright, malice-specked silver. The latter of them had a wood axe and was chopping down the tree.

Link dropped his handful of acorns and ran.

The monster camp in the old equestrian track had cost him a lot of weapons, but he had an old Sheikah spear that he wielded with almost as much skill as a sword. The first, weaker bokoblin was downed with just a handful of rapid, forceful jabs, giving Link barely enough time to roll forward away from the silver monster’s redirected swing.

The silver bokoblin had a diamond necklace, ornate and beautiful and mangled with filth and blood, half the delicate connections snapped and gaping. It gave him a grin with too many teeth to be a monster’s beastly snarl.

Link firmed up his grip on the spear and pushed forward.

The shaft of the spear was good for deflecting incoming blows, but the sharp blade of the axe still saw it broken before the end of the fight, and Link had to slash the bokoblin’s throat with the wickedly hooked speartip to send it wheezing wetly to the ground.

By the time he dropped down, coughing into one hand, he’d actually forgotten about the two women in the tree, which meant that he jumped violently when they dropped down, one after the other. One of them yelped with the motion; the other grinned at him.

“Thanks for the save, kid,” she said, dropping onto her ass with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “We really owe you one.”

Link smiled a little and inclined his head, caught his breath, and leaned down, cutting through the bokoblin’s chest to get to the throbbing heart before he went after its teeth and horns, prying them off.

The others caught up around then, and Link, for the first time, allowed himself to notice the slight eeriness of it, knowing that there were twice as many people around as the two girls knew. He wiped his hands off on his trousers, sighing at the smears of murky rust-brown blood, and then gently took the now completely broken necklace off of the bokoblin’s neck, weighing it in one hand.

There were three diamonds studded in the beautiful chain. This necklace had been very precious to somebody. With a faint sigh, he tucked it away, the necklace dissolving in a flicker of blue light.

“Oh, goddess,” the other woman groaned, dropping down to lean back against the tree. “I hate the fucking woods.”

The first laughed sheepishly, reaching up to scratch her neck. “We would have gotten away fine. I mean, we always have before.”

“A silver, Nat. A silver fucking monster.”

Nat’s smile flickered, becoming guilty, and Link hummed softly to break the sudden tension. They both turned to him.

“Thank you,” the unnamed woman sighed, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair. “That was amazing, I’ve never seen anyone take down a silver monster before. Hell, I don’t even know a lot of people who’ve run into one and lived.” She shuddered. “I didn’t realize there were any so close to Hateno.”

Link whistled, low and reassuring, and knocked the dead monster on its snout. She laughed shakily.

“Yeah… yeah, I guess not anymore.”

“Sorry about your spear though,” Nat added. “We can, um, we can try and find you a new one?”

Link shrugged, tapping his slate to pull out a new weapon. Traveler’s sword – not great, but it would do for now. He showed it to Nat and Nat whistled.

“Oh, you got your hands on Sheikah tech. That’s rare stuff. I heard you can only get it from some guy up in Akkala.” Link cocked his head. “What? The guy? No idea, I don’t mess with Akkala. I heard there’s guardians there. Even truffles aren’t worth that.”

“Shocking to hear you say that,” the other muttered. Nat huffed.

“Don’t be like that! You want truffles too.” The corner of Link’s mouth twitched, and Nat instantly turned bashful again. “Yeah, people always think it’s real funny that we’re risking our lives looking for food. But it’s the little things, you know?”

Link laughed, and then coughed again, working himself into a grimace. Nat perked up.

“Oh, I have something that might help with that!” She rummaged through her pack, then held out a small jar that Link recognized as honey. “Our mom’s a beekeeper, always makes sure we take some along, but Meghyn’s not a real honey fan. Mom lives in the South Akkala Stable if you want to drop by sometime, though.”

Link gave her a small smile, accepting the jar of honey. He dipped his finger in and sucked some off, humming pleasantly as it soothed some of the soreness of his throat.

“You’ve always liked honey and warm milk when you were sick,” Mipha said quietly, watching him with a soft expression that made him feel oddly self-conscious. He let slip another tiny smile and half a nod, putting the honey away as well, and leaned back to flick through his slate.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” He wondered how often he’d asked that, to have the phrase recorded in full.

“Nat wants to keep looking for truffles,” Meghyn said disparagingly, and Nat’s sheepish smile said it was true. Her expression softened a little when she met Link’s eyes. “Thanks though. We really will be alright. Most bokoblin don’t notice when you hop from one treetop to the next, oddly enough.”

Link wasn’t at all sure that a silver bokoblin wouldn’t, but he nodded. He pointed up the hill, and waited while Meghyn studied him before shrugging.

“That’s Hateno Village down the road, if that’s what you’re asking. Nat and I live there – Bolson makes some really cute houses, when he has the custom. Way nicer than living in a stable too, if you ask me.”

Meghyn gave Link a small smile, and he resisted the urge to look away.

Thank you, he signed, which both women seemed to take as a cue to wave, letting them part ways in opposite directions. Link listened closely as they walked away, but they were arguing about risks and it made it difficult to make out the sounds of any bokoblin that might be around.

“It’s not right for monsters to be so close to the village,” Daruk frowned. “I hope it’s being looked after.”

Link hummed reassuringly, and then winced as his breath caught and hitched, leading to another small coughing fit. He shook his hands off afterward, as if to dismiss it, and signed, It must be, if it’s still around.

“Let’s get you inside,” Mipha encouraged, moving as if to nudge him along. “The sooner you rest, the sooner you’ll get better.”

Link grunted, dubious, but moved along anyway, letting his steps stay at an idle, meandering pace. He suppressed a yawn, rolling his sore shoulders, and tugged at his sticky clothes.

“Definitely a change of clothes,” Urbosa murmured, a faint teasing lilt in her smile. “Perhaps you can wear your vai clothing while you wash those.”

He nodded, turning over his hands and frowning when he realized how stained the gloves were already. He supposed it was inevitable, but it was a shame. They were so pretty.

“Company,” Revali said, gesturing ahead, and Link lifted his gaze in time to see a man at the gate stand up, holding his pitchfork like a weapon. Link tilted his head.

“Hey!” the man barked, brandishing it like someone who had used it for more than hay as often as not. “State your name and business! Not one step further.”

Link stopped, briefly weighing his options before he signed, My name is Link. I’m just passing through.

The man’s eyes narrowed, and though his hackles fell slightly, he didn’t entirely relax. “That’s soldier’s talk, boy. Use the words Lady Nayru gave you.”

Something about that phrase tickled the back of Link’s mind like the raw ache of his throat, and he pulled a face. He reached for his Sheikah slate, and the man bristled again.

“Keep your hands off that Sheikah tech!” he barked.

Link sighed, coughed, and scowled to himself, rolling his shoulders again.

“There’s your guard,” Revali said dryly to Daruk, who didn’t look amused, frowning faintly at the man. Urbosa sighed too, exasperated.

“Go for it anyway,” she advised Link. “He’s experienced, but not trained. It’s unlikely there’s a thing he could do to you.”

Link hummed, mentally charted out the map through the communication rune, and then grabbed for it, tapping the three, four, five buttons he needed in quick succession.

“Hello. My name is Link. I can speak with my Sheikah slate. It takes some time to choose all of my words, but I can communicate effectively.”

The man at the gate paused, eying him distrustfully, but, slowly, relaxed, giving Link a stiff nod. “State your business.”

Urbosa inclined her head, so Link dropped his attention from the gatekeeper to the slate, bringing together his response in a few quick taps. “I’m a traveler. I’m passing through.” He double-checked that his gloves still covered his hands; they did.

“Selling bananas?” the man asked. Link tensed, taking a half-step back and leveling a distrustful gaze of his own, and only then did the man relax, thumping the butt of his pitchfork to the ground. “I’m not if you aren’t. But there’ve been too many Yiga around lately. Makes a man twitchy.”

After a moment, Link relaxed too and gave him a short nod. The man grinned at him, seeming perfectly friendly with the initial confrontation over.

“So! New traveler. That’s unusual, but you look young. You from one of the stables? Leaving the nest?” Link shook his head, and the man’s eyebrows flew up. “Even rarer. Name’s Thadd, by the way, I try to keep an eye on this gate here. You know.” He waved down to the woods, and Link nodded. “You a mute, son? Guess I can’t begrudge you the Sheikah tech if that’s what it’s for.” Link pulled a face again. “Oh, that rude? Sorry ‘bout that. Like I said, don’t get a lot of new folks.”

Link shrugged, glancing down at the slate again. “About Hateno?” he asked. Thadd grunted.

“Not a lot to say that everyone don’t already know,” he said unhelpfully. “Biggest town in Hyrule nowadays, has been since the Calamity tore down the rest. Couple shops, bar or two, the inn down the way and the blacksmith’s shop. Doctor’s near the inn. Oh, there’s the dye shop, no one else has one-a those.” Mipha beamed. “That’s all I can think of just now, I guess – oh, and there’s the old building way up the hill, but you don’t want to go there, trust me.”

“Thank you. Temple,” Link said, because sometimes he had to choose between clipped and painstaking and he didn’t really like painstaking when he was this tired. Thadd snapped his fingers.

“Oh, yeah, I guess there’s that too. The old folks like to hang out there. It’s on the western shore of Zelkoa Pond, way up there.” He waved. “Not a point of interest to most these days, but to each their own, I guess.”

Link shrugged, repeated, “Thank you,” and wove through the lengthening shadows towards the general area Thadd had indicated; Mipha or Urbosa would be able to lead him the rest of the way there.

“Speaking of the temple, shouldn’t you have learned a bit about Hylian braiding styles by now?”

“Revali, I don’t have hair.”

Link smiled a little, reached up to tangle one fringe around his finger, and kept going.

There was a blue-lit furnace embedded into the side of the temple, and the other was built almost into the water. There was something on the roof, too, but Link couldn’t see what it was without climbing to look. The whole structure was worn down and weather-beaten, but the sturdy stone had held together through the ages, and Link found himself almost hesitant to go inside, stained with half-dried monster blood, hair matted and unbrushed, boots crusted with nameless filth.

“Go on,” Urbosa said, giving him a small smile, and with a wave of her hand, Link found himself inside as if compelled.

It looked… time-worn but well-loved, Link thought.

There was a goddess statue at the back of the large room, the only thing in the temple that was clean of dust. There were three offering bowls at its feet, all empty. There was a bookshelf, thick with dust, on Link’s left, and a few small tables with old wooden chairs on his right. Those were the cleanest, the dust brushed away by frequent use.

Link went for the bookshelf, knelt in front of it, and started to pick quietly through the tomes. The others stayed quiet.

Link appreciated it. No memories were coming to his mind, but he felt the peace of this place in his heart, comforting and kind. He’d spent a lot of time here.

He pulled books off the shelf, one after another, and when he had as many as he could carry, he picked them all up and took them to one of the tables, where he sat and started to flick through them.

The first was a complete record of every prayer one woman had made to Hylia, reading more like a diary than a book of devotion. There were a few of those, Link realized after a while, some of them handwritten, some of them unfinished. He wondered how many were from residents of this town.

Another was dedicated to the golden goddesses, and the more rigid prayers of devotion they demanded. Link ran his fingertips down the yellowed page, and the beautifully inscribed words sounded like Zelda in his head.

One of them was a children’s book of faith, cutely illustrated, with promises of love and compassion and kindness without condition. He flipped through that one more slowly, feeling strangely wistful.

Anything you’d tell your mother, you can tell Lady Hylia, one passage said. Scraped knees and lost keys, fear of the dark and missing the park, your mother will always listen.

One of them was called Strands of Faith: Composure and Comfort in Hylian Hairstyles. And like Link hoped, it had diagrams of braiding, ones he half-recognized and ones he didn’t, and with Mipha’s help, he flicked through the book until Mipha stopped him.

He read the instructions twice, nodded to himself, and closed his eyes.

It was a relatively simple style, weaving the fringes of his hair into spiraling braids that kept his hair from flying loosely into his face. He didn’t have anything to tie them off with, so he had to let them loose, and the first was already falling apart as he moved to the second.

But when he blinked his eyes open again, he found himself oddly… relaxed. Like something had settled into place.

Like he was finally, for the first time, ready to face the day.

Chapter Text

“Up and at ‘em, son, this is no place to sleep.”

Link went rigid at the first touch of fingers on his arm, and they quickly retreated. That was all it took, though, and he sat up and jittered back in a screech of chair legs, reaching for his sword, before he finally looked up.

He blinked a couple times, and then tilted his head and let go.

It was still evening, creeping into night, and all of the books he’d picked up were still piled on the table in front of him. The old woman who had woken him was giving him a good-humored smile, and the two old men with her were seated at the other table. Most of his friends seemed to be outside, but Urbosa was sitting by the goddess statue, melancholy.

“It’s good to see children taking an interest in the old religion,” the old woman said, when Link had settled down again. She sat herself down across from Link, made herself comfortable, and picked up the braiding book he still had open. “This was the one my father taught me from back in the day, but my fingers aren’t nimble enough for it these days.”

Her hands were shaking, Link noticed, though she didn’t seem uncomfortable. And her hair was still long, with a few pins and clips in it as if to make up for being unstyled.

He pushed the book toward her, and she flipped through it carefully, pushing the pages along with trembling fingers. She smiled when she found the page she was looking for and pushed it back to him.

“That was my favorite when I was still young,” she said fondly. Link looked down, smoothing out the slightly wrinkled page. A fishtail braid, with a ribbon threaded through it. He tapped the ribbon. “That? There ought to be a small box of hair ribbons, ties, pins in the back of the temple, if you’d like to look.”

Link nodded thoughtfully, an idea starting to form in his mind, and he went to find the box in question. There it was, tucked into the corner, and he spent just a few minutes rummaging through it, jeweled hairpins and wooden hairsticks and a hair needle or two, and eventually picked out three things: a long red silk ribbon, a matched set of thin leather hair ties, carved wooden beads holding the loops closed, and a wooden hairbrush.

He returned to the old woman and held the ribbon and hairbrush out for inspection. The old woman smiled. “Yes, that would do. Are you going to try it?” She sounded wistful. Link pointed at her, and she blinked, looking briefly taken aback. “Oh, my. Are you offering to do my hair for me, young man?”

Link nodded, and she laughed, cheeks stretching into a pleased smile that left deep wrinkles in her face.

“You’re a sweet young man. I’d be most grateful. It’s been too long since I’ve been able to ready myself for the day, Lady Hylia forgive me. But could I ask your name first? Why, you haven’t said a word to me.”

Link hummed, moved one of the chairs close enough to reach, and tapped through his Sheikah slate to reply, “My name is Link.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, surprised. “Well, my name is Uma. It’s quite nice to meet you, dear boy. Is there anything you’d like to hear about? I’m afraid I’ve naught to offer you but stories.”

“Do you have any interesting stories about the area?” Link asked, and Uma smiled at him, then turned her back, letting him start to pick the pins delicately out of her hair before he began.

“Certainly I do,” she murmured, setting her hands in her lap while he scooted closer. “Why, I’ve been in Hateno since the Age of Burning Fields…” Link tapped her shoulder gently. “Ah, the Age of Burning Fields? That was the time very soon after the Calamity. I was but a small girl then, barely old enough to remember, but from what I understand now it was a terrible time. The monsters of today, you see, are somewhat less than what they were then – their power and numbers both fell as Hyrule ran out of what fighters remained to it, so now both Hyrule and the monsters are but a shell of what they once were.”

Link listened quietly, glancing down at the book again to check what he’d need to do for the hairstyle. He hummed, running his fingers through her smoothed hair, and she huffed a weary laugh.

“Ah, but that was a sad time, and it was so long ago now. Where was I? Yes, yes, the rebuilding. My family has run the inn at Hateno for all that time, and we helped to thread Hyrule back together as the aftermath ended and true recovery began. That sweet young man, Beedle, he came to us first when he became a peddler. So unusual for a human to settle in Hyrule, but then, Beedle is quite a strange man regardless…”

She kept talking as Link finished untangling her hair and started to divide it into sections, and then to weave them together, his hands remembering the motions better than his mind did. Uma never seemed to run out of words, flowing easily from one topic to the next, from the stables to the farms, the soldiers that used to inhabit Hateno, and then her father carefully imparting his faith to his young children over the years.

His fingers accidentally brushed her neck a few times, leaving faint green streaks on her skin and vivid pink on his, and he smiled to himself but didn’t stop. They were exactly like the ones Urbosa had from him.

“He told me that the Spring of Wisdom lies high on the peak of Mount Lanayru,” she recalled, as Link was finishing up, tying the braid off with the ribbon he’d braided in. “Ah, thank you, dear – you’re wonderfully talented. Are you quite sure you haven’t done this before?”

Link gave her a small smile, glad for the excuse not to answer, and just waved for Uma to go on as she turned around again. She chuckled.

“Oh, yes, the Spring of Wisdom. It’s said that the princess once went there to purify herself in preparation for her sacred task, though my father claims that anyone with enough faith may go. I wanted to find it myself once, but…” Uma smiled sadly, and Link nodded. “Yes, you understand, don’t you? Monsters, mountains, the tyranny of old age… But perhaps you will have better luck, if you choose to go.”

Link gave her a small smile and nodded.

“Tokk likely remembers more than I do, if you’re still curious about the Calamity,” Uma added, cutting one of the old men a sideways, sly smile. “He’s quite a bit older than I am. And turn around, child, you look like you haven’t seen a hairbrush in years.”

Little did she know.

Link offered the brush and then, with only a moment of hesitation, turned his back, wincing as she started to untangle his hair from the very tips on up. Her trembling fingertips paused on the very back of his neck, down a line of scar tissue he knew he had there, and then went to work.

“Stop throwing me under the boat, Uma,” Tokk griped, making Leop cackle. “I’m not that much older, anyway. The death, the blood, the screaming, that was all before my time too.” He shrugged. “The soldiers in town used to talk about the brave lad that tried to stop the Calamity, but I weren’t old enough to care much about the dead back then. Don’t matter much anymore. We have what we have.”

He waved, such that he might’ve been indicating the temple, or maybe the village, or the whole of Hyrule. Link tried not to wonder too much. He swallowed around his sore throat, fiddled with the book, and nodded, tilting his head back to give Uma better access.

He thought about the monster wrapped around Hyrule Castle, massive and incomprehensible, and all the ruins he’d passed through as he traveled.

He wondered how many bodies there had been to bury in the Age of Burning Fields.

Uma nudged him, bringing out of his darkening thoughts, and he craned his neck and cocked his head at her. She smiled at him, eyes crinkled with sympathy, and went back to brushing his hair, so gently that, were it not for the shaking, it could have been a breeze untangling the mats.

“The state you young ones let yourselves get into these days,” Uma murmured, with more humor than censure, and he smiled a little and relaxed, humming softly, eyes slipping half-shut as she made progress.

It felt nice, to have her working carefully through his tangled hair.

“Would you be a dear and bring a chair to the goddess statue?” she asked when she was done, setting the brush aside. Link made a mental note to buy one from the general store. “I think I’m overdue to share my thoughts with the mother.” Meaningfully, she added, “You could listen, if you don’t mind hearing an old woman’s musings.”

Link perked up and nodded quickly, and brought one of the chairs over while she hobbled over, steps exaggeratedly slow and careful. After a second, he doubled back and offered a hand, and she gave him a grateful smile and held onto it for support.

He helped her into the chair and then sat down, eyes on the goddess statue, opposite from where Urbosa still sat, head bowed in something horribly like defeat. Link reached up and ran his fingers absently through his loose hair, feeling the smoothness of the untangled strands, and then pulled it back with one of the leather ties without taking his eyes off the statue.

He’d only been taught the one prayer, to trade spirit orbs for power. But…

Uma didn’t close her eyes for her prayer, just set her hands on her lap and started to speak, shaky and soft.

“Please hear me, mother Hylia,” Uma murmured, relaxed and leaning back in her chair. “I’ve been falling over so often lately that my husband won’t let me walk anywhere alone. It’s good that he is holding up so well under the onslaught of old age. Do you remember when we were young, mother? Leop’s family were refugees from Mabe Village, and he was always so happy to take me to see his family’s horses. It’s been a long time since I’ve ridden a horse. I think I’d like to do it one more time before I go…”

Link listened, and it was just like the prayers in the books he’d flicked through – like Uma was confiding in a friend, or at her mother’s knee. She meandered a little, letting her thoughts drift and flow, and eventually wrapped up with only a few final words when her voice went slightly hoarse.

Uma cleared her throat a few times, and then gestured to the goddess statue. “Now you try, my boy,” she said quietly.

Link looked at her for a moment, and then pushed himself closer to the goddess statue, muffled a cough, and looked at it for a moment.

It was difficult to mold his thoughts even halfway to coherent words; they echoed in his head, the complete thought shortly followed by its expression. It would be easier to do this in sign. But he tried.

Please hear me, Mother Hylia. I… the other day… He shook his head, took a breath, and tried again. It’s been over a month, mother. I think, I think I’m only just starting to… grasp who I am. Who my friends are. Who you are. And it feels like I’m fighting my body and mind. I made myself sick recently, because I was scared, and hurt, and out of control. I couldn’t stop myself. My friends couldn’t stop me. It was awful. And I still don’t know... But I’m trying, mother. I’m looking for myself. And I want to brush my hair again. …Thank you for listening to me.

It was too short, too terse compared to Uma’s, but Link wasn’t sure what else to say, so he just pushed himself back again, sighed, and coughed around the tickle in his throat, rubbing his chest uncomfortably.

He looked at Uma, who smiled at him kindly.

“I’m sure that was perfect,” she murmured. “Now, why don’t we get you to the inn? You look like you need a bath and a good change of clothes.”

Link looked down, flushed as he remembered his current state, and nodded.

Uma led the way toward the inn, which was to say, she put her hand in the crook of Link’s elbow to steady herself, and used that same hand to guide him in the right direction. Leop and Tokk had stayed in the temple, not done with the night’s business, but Uma seemed content enough, and not too worried about leaving them behind.

The others had caught up, and Urbosa had wiped her melancholy off of her face, her footsteps brisk and even as she stayed with Link. Mipha gave him a small smile, and he flashed a quick one back.

It didn’t take half an hour to get back to the inn, and then for Uma to introduce him to her granddaughter, Prima, and ask in no uncertain terms for a bath to be prepared. Prima gave Link an unimpressed look but got to it, leaving Link a little sheepish and more than a little grateful.

An hour later, he was washed, changed, and curled up in a soft bed, chewing absentmindedly on one fringe as he dozed. Urbosa may have been joking earlier, but Link liked his Gerudo clothes, and they were more than good enough to change into until he got some new ones.

“Did you get everything you wanted out of the temple?” Mipha asked quietly, sitting on the floor by the bed. He nodded, stifling a yawn and then another coughing fit.

U-m-a taught me how to pray, he signed, so sleepily that it was probably half incoherent. Mipha smiled at him anyway.

“That was nice of her,” she said.

Did her hair, Link added. And mine. I have hair ties. Need a brush.

“Even better,” Mipha said softly. “You can do your hair in the morning.”

Link nodded, and before he could say anything else, he was asleep.

First thing the next morning, Link untangled his hair, plaited one of his fringes into a pretty twist, tied it off, and then did the other, little beads dangling from each end.

Then he spent a few minutes clicking his tongue and shaking off his hands, delighted at the feeling of his new plaits swinging back and forth with every shake of his head.

“Perfect, little brother,” Daruk assured him, with a fond, indulgent smile that made Link all but beam back, wriggling a little more before he finally settled down.

“I suppose you’re going to spend today making your cute little rounds,” Revali said disparagingly, crossing his arms and leaning back to a wall. Link cooed once, still too pleased to get really annoyed, and shrugged, running his palm over the silken clothes.

I really need new clothes, he said instead. And I should wash the old ones too. And visit the dye shop! He brightened, remembering the discussion from the day before. We’ll see what comes after that.

He went to the cooking pots first, cooked himself a mushroom omelet for breakfast, and warmed a few bottles of milk and honey to have over the next few days, having the first with his food. It did soothe some of the soreness of his throat, going down easily, and he smiled to himself.

He spent the next hour or two on clothes. Sophie and her father, Seldon, ran the armor shop; Sophie did the sewing and her father the forging, and with his slate, Link asked Sophie measure him for a set of regular clothes and a set of armor.

“The underclothes and chainmail will be tailored, but not the suit of armor,” Sophie warned, checking through the notebook she’d kept in her pocket. “Um… Father will look through our stock and pick the closest fit, maybe make a few adjustments before you get it. You’re kind of small. Girls your age don’t usually come for armor. But come back tomorrow and they should both be done.”

He visited the general store next, bought some rice, some arrows, some soap, and a wooden boar-bristle brush, and then headed to the river to wash his set of monster blood clothes. Halfway through he was joined by Clavia, who chattered unprompted about her longing for adventure, the mysterious letter she’d found in an old book, and what the treasure at the end might be. Link smiled a little and noted the riddle and Clavia’s speculation in his Sheikah slate.

Clavia also agreed to hang Link’s clothes to dry with her own load; Clavia was nice.

The dye shop was run by a man called Payge who was more than happy to chatter about the dying process as he worked Link’s Sheikah clothes over.

“I’ve got a little tint of human ancestry,” he confided, stirring the keese wings Link had supplied into the pot while Link leaned over and watched. “Hytopian, to be exact, the kingdom was famous for its fashion magic a thousand years ago. So this little potion here isn’t so much a family secret as a pigment of our imagination.”

Link grunted enthusiastically, watching the potion absorb the keese wings and slowly turn into their exact shade of iron grey, and Payge grinned at him.

“As-tone-ishing, isn’t it?” he asked cheerfully. “You won’t find a more specta-color dye anywhere in the world.”

“Goddess,” Urbosa muttered, and then, to Revali, “He talks like you.”

“Excuse you, I keep my wordplay in reserve for maximum impact,” Revali sniffed.

From there he wandered back to the inn and ran into Manny, pacing nervously back and forth outside. Manny turned out to be a girl with a crush on Prima, the innkeeper’s daughter, so with a smile Link headed inside to go back and forth and encourage them.

“It’s a wonder that children can still manage to have such silly concerns in a time like this,” Urbosa said, soft and solemn, and Link glanced over at her. The melancholy hadn’t really left her, after all; Link wondered what it was about Hateno that was bringing it out.

I guess life goes on, Link signed philosophically, and then pounced on a passing cricket to add it to his growing collection.

Link gave Manny the crickets and hoped they gave her the courage to ask Prima out, because the crickets themselves certainly weren’t going to do the job.

He dropped by the doctor’s next and found a Hylian woman, Kukiel, who looked nearly as old as Uma, though much steadier. She appeared as if summoned as soon as he found himself in another coughing fit, wincing as each one aggravated his sore throat.

“Just a cough, little one?” Kukiel asked wearily, making only half an effort to smile as she beckoned Link in. Link waved his hands, shaking his head, and reached for his Sheikah slate to explain.

“I have monster parts to sell,” Zelda’s stilted voice said. Something flickered behind Kukiel’s eyes, but she just leveled a contemplative look at Link, then nodded.

“I see. Come in, then. I always have more than enough use for those.”

There was a hint of bitterness in her voice, but Link ignored it in favor of coming in and sitting across from her at a desk, set mostly with inventory notes and patient records in hasty, scratchy handwriting. She set a small bucket between them, and Link set the Sheikah slate on the edge and started to let the parts tumble out and into the bucket: bokoblin fangs, moblin livers, the tentacles of octoroks and the wings of keese and monster eyes, hinox stomachs, toenails…

Kukiel ended up needing to bring up a second bucket so they could sort through them all, adding the parts up to a fair price that came to a total of nearly a thousand rupees.

“I don’t suppose you have the other components to brew healing potions,” Kukiel murmured, but she looked less stressed already, poking through her new inventory.

Link tapped his cheek a few times, and then nodded; he’d come across a fair number of hearty lizards near Lurelin, and he hadn’t brewed all of them yet. He sold her those too, and much of the rest of the strain eased out of her eyes.

“You’re a sweet child,” she said, looking almost relaxed now. “Tell me, you wouldn’t be the young one who gave Beedle his newest soulmark, would you? Link?”

Link blinked a few times, and then perked up and nodded quickly. This time she even smiled a little.

“If you keep on like this, I do believe you’ll touch all of us,” she murmured, and then waved him out the door, leaving him oddly flattered.

He played with the kids for a while next, listened to one of them chatter about treasure and running and travelers, showed another one his traveler’s sword for a red rupee, and snuck behind a post to eavesdrop with another one as two women gossiped about the Sheikah child now living up the hill.

Revali excused himself to go look into it. Link was pretty certain he was just bored.

Link took the opportunity to disappear into the shrine above the village, which took half an hour of careful persistence and a little bit of blatant cheating to complete. By the time he was finished, Revali was back, and Mipha was giggling so hard that there were tears in her eyes.

“The Sheikah child is Purah,” Revali explained, in a tone of great disapproval. “She’s somehow managed to make herself younger. I can only imagine the nonsense she’s gotten herself into to manage that.”

Purah? Link asked, which unfortunately killed the mood.

“Impa’s older sister,” Urbosa explained. “And a brilliant Sheikah scientist. You two were familiar, as she and the little bird were quite good friends; it would likely be worth going to see her.” Link shuffled uncertainly. “She may be able to restore some extra functionality to your Sheikah slate. She was an expert.”

Link hummed uncomfortably, coughed, and then turned and scurried away, towards the bridge he’d spotted earlier.

There he found a handful of men swinging their hammers at an only slightly dilapidated old house. Discomfort fading into curiosity, he went up to the first and hummed loudly, and he turned around, bright-eyed and expectant. His mouth immediately formed a fond smile as he took Link in, and he set his hammer on his shoulder.

“What is it?” he asked, friendly enough.

Sign? Link checked, and then went for his Sheikah slate when the man didn’t seem to notice. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Karson!” he said cheerfully. “I just started work at Bolson Construction, but Bolson and I have uh, known each other a long time.” He chuckled. “Didn’t get me promoted any faster, but I’m here now.”

“What are you doing?” Link asked, and Karson hummed.

“Tearing down this house here. No one’s lived in it for a long damn time – last owner ran off to the castle, never came back. You know how people do.” He shrugged. “Been sitting here useless since then, so we’re bringing it down.”

That seemed like such a waste. Link glanced at the house thoughtfully.

“I’ll buy it,” he offered after a moment. Karson’s eyebrows rose.

“Well, props for guts, kid, but you’ll have to talk to Bolson about that.” He nodded vaguely down the side of the house, so Link scurried that way, a silly sort of excitement building in his chest.

“Oh, Link,” Mipha murmured affectionately, but she made no move to stop him, fondness crinkling her eyes even as Daruk started to chuckle loudly.

Who are you? Link asked the next person along, bouncing on his feet eagerly, so caught up that he didn’t realize he’d used sign until a few moments after. To his surprise, though, the man put his hammer down and replied in kind, slow and clumsy.

H-u-d-s-o-n, the man replied. Link smiled brightly. Even better, the man continued, I’m a carpenter. I’m knocking down this house.

Do you know what happened to the man who used to live here? Link asked quickly, and then turned apologetic at the man’s clearly lost expression. He revised, Why?

Hudson blinked a few times, and then rallied himself, beady eyes focused and intent. Link wondered how long he’d been trying to learn sign. No one lives here.

Why? Link prompted, hiding a smile. Hudson was too, behind his focus.

Man ran off.

Why?

Don’t know. Bills?

Mipha was giggling. Link smiled.

Can I buy it? he asked. Hudson’s eyebrows rose too, and he waved over his shoulder.

Talk to B-o-l-s-o-n, he suggested, and Link nodded firmly and scurried onward.

He was immediately distracted when he caught sight of the third man, and instead of anything about the house, what he tapped out was, “I like your outfit.”

The man glanced over at him, his expression immediately softening as soon as he laid eyes on Link. His mouth curled into a smile, and he turned toward him, giving him an assessing look up and down, lingering for only a moment or two on his exposed stomach.

“You’re quite stylish yourself, little miss,” he said, clipped and pleased. “Did you need something?”

Link shook himself, nodded, and asked, “Who are you?”

The man blinked, glanced down at the slate. “What’s this?” he asked with surprise, having apparently not noticed it initially. Link smiled bashfully and tapped around a minute more.

“I can speak with my Sheikah slate. It takes some time to choose all of my words, but I can communicate effectively.”

The man clicked his tongue, impressed. “Well, isn’t that something special. I’m the owner, head, lead designer and namesake of Bolson Construction, Bolson himself.” He waved over his shoulder. “We’re busy for the workday, little miss, but if you meet me here after hours sometime I’ll show you where us queer folk spend our free time.”

Link blinked at him owlishly, the slight parting of his lips invisible behind his veil, and took a moment to process that. The moment he did, he flushed.

As always, he couldn’t bring up any specific memories. But it brought up memories, little flashes of soft skin and companionship and belonging. He smiled at Bolson and gave him a firm nod. Bolson grinned back, and then turned away again, considering the house plan in his hands.

“He does know-” Daruk started in an undertone. Mipha cut him off.

“He does, yes.”

“Learn something new about our little hero every day,” Revali murmured, and Urbosa hummed in amusement.

“Someone hasn’t been paying attention,” she returned quietly, earning a sheepish chuckle from Daruk. “What? You don’t think it’s just any teenage boy who’s just as happy to be called vai as voe, do you?”

“Granted,” Daruk agreed, cheeks dimpled.

Trying to ignore the byplay and the heat in his cheeks, Link hummed loudly to catch Bolson’s attention, and then asked, “What are you doing?”

Bolson’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well, this here is a vacant house, see, and not a lot of people buy these days.” His voice sounded heavy. “The people of Hateno took a vote, and…” He shrugged, but he looked a little wistful as he glanced at the house. “Well, sometimes you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet.”

“I’ll buy it,” Link said, eyes intent on Bolson. Both Bolson’s eyebrows rose, faintly amused and a little pitying.

“Little miss moneybags, are you? Child, this house’s asking price was fifty thousand rupees. Do you have that much on you?” Link deflated, biting his lip as his momentum came to a screeching halt. Bolson sighed. “I didn’t think so. But…” Link perked up again, hopeful, and Bolson gave him a small smile. “It’s such a waste to tear it down, and plenty effort, too. To give a young thing like you a place to call home… let’s say three thousand rupees and thirty bundles of wood, how does that sound? Hand over the wood in the next week or so, and I’ll let you work on the rupees for longer.”

Link was nodding almost before Bolson had finished speaking, bouncing on his toes again, and Bolson laughed, eyes sparkling.

“Let’s call that a deal, then. Hudson! Karson! We’re leaving the house be after all!”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Link piled up the bundles of wood against the house for Bolson and company to retrieve, and they found him cooking at the pot nearby, waiting for them. Bolson raised his eyebrows again.

“You do know I gave you a week, sweetheart,” he said with some amusement, sitting down by the pot and leaning over to look inside. “That must have taken you all night.”

Link shrugged. It hadn’t taken him all night, but he was prone to sleeping badly anyway, and he’d been so excited. He scraped a crepe out of the pot, folded it up, added honey and offered it to Bolson, his own still half-finished on a plate by his knee.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Bolson cooed, instantly extra cheerful, and leaned back to start munching. Link added another pat of butter and a spoonful of batter to the pot and nodded at Hudson, who looked pleased.

The morning passed like that, breakfast and chatter; the demolition had apparently been Hudson’s last task before he moved on, so he’d be heading to Akkala soon. Link promised to meet him there; Hudson promised to practice his sign. Then Bolson started teasing Hudson about how much the boys at the Fruit Fairy were going to miss him, and Link asked about it, and Bolson started trying to cajole him into coming by.

“Only if you’re comfortable, of course,” Karson broke in, nudging Bolson pointedly. “But they’re all good people there.”

Link promised to seek them out after working hours this time, and then disappeared towards the armor shop to check on the orders from the day before. Sophie insisted he try them both on, and immediately noticed his expression.

“Is it poking you somewhere?” Sophie asked intently, already stepping forward to examine him. But Link shook his head. He suspected that the heavy, uncomfortable way the armor pulled at his scarred skin couldn’t be remedied. He’d just try not to wear it more than he had to, that was all.

Mipha looked wistful, he noticed absently; Urbosa, oddly, looked melancholy again.

Afterward he changed back into his Gerudo clothing, picked up his Hylian clothes from Clavia, and returned to the dye shop, already bouncing and eager.

For the underclothes that went with his new armor, he offered Payge three balls of chu jelly and two silent princess blooms, summing up to a beautiful, delicate light blue color.

His new Hylian trousers, he dyed a darker brown, the exact shade of some acorns he’d picked up along the way. And his new tunic became an attractive dark green, four parts Hyrule herb and one part scales off a lizalfos tail.

“You’ve a talent for mixing colors, miss,” Payge said with clear pleasure, admiring the way the last dye job had turned out. “Come again anytime, you hear?”

Link hummed enthusiastically, nodding hard, and changed into his newer set of Hylian clothes before he left again. Wandering around led him through a few fields, and once, accidentally into someone’s chicken coop, startling them badly; he hastily retreated back out, and a child led him to a horned statue that was tucked away, leaving him to have a brief stroke of panic when it stole away some of the magic bolstering his body.

As soon as he’d gotten it back, he beat a hasty retreat and settled at the edge of the pond a healthy distance away, leaning against the rock cliff beneath a towering tree.

“Pray to the corrupted goddess statue, he said,” Revali mocked, his eyes glittering with mirth. “What could go wrong, he said.”

Whatever, Link sighed, smiling a little and pretending to ignore him. It faded as everyone settled down, Mipha in the shallows with her eyes on the fish, and Daruk under the tree beside him, and Urbosa... Is Urbosa okay? She seems down.

Daruk’s brow furrowed, and he turned towards Urbosa, questioning. Mipha did the same thing only a moment later, lips pursed in concern. Urbosa exhaled, looking less than pleased to have become the center of attention.

“Hateno is Zelda’s favorite town,” she said, clipped and curt, not inviting further questioning. Daruk’s expression crumpled in sympathy.

“Then she’ll be glad it’s still here,” he said evenly, somehow making it into a reassurance. Urbosa sighed again, nodded, and leaned back on her hands.

She’d placed herself in the middle of the pond, no reflection in the water. Her legs were crossed under her, and her shoulders slumped like she hadn’t the energy to hold them up. Her eyes were lifeless and distant, shadowed with melancholy. Link thought with a pang of regret that she’d never once looked this sad in the desert, or even in Faron. Not, he thought, since the Great Plateau.

You were thinking about her in the temple, he said, and then reached up to play with one of his plaits, fidgety and unsure. She met his eyes briefly before looking away.

“Zelda dedicated her life to her training by her father’s command,” Urbosa said quietly, tilting her head back to look at the sky. “She’d say ten prayers in a day, every day, devoting herself to the goddesses in the hopes of unlocking her divine power, and more than ten times that if she visited a spring. She tried so hard.” She shook her head, forced herself to straighten up, and continued, more brusque, “She liked Hateno’s temple more than most. She liked the informality.”

Her voice caught just a little towards the end, and she stopped speaking. Link considered her for a moment, brow faintly furrowed, and then finally, hesitantly, signed, She did a good job.

He resisted the urge to look down at his palm, where Zelda’s soulmark had tinted it yellow. He wondered if it would get more vivid, if he remembered more about her.

Urbosa didn’t reply, but after a long moment, she stood abruptly, walked across the smooth surface of the pond, hopped up onto the shore and walked away. Link stared after her, chewing on his cheek in worry.

“It’s alright, Link,” Mipha said, quiet and solemn. “We all have our moments.”

Link hesitated for a second, and then nodded slowly. Revali tilted his head, glancing at Link, and then said carelessly,

“If you’re finally ready to go speak to Purah, I’ll wait here and inform Urbosa when she returns. Goddess knows I’d like to spend as little time with that madwoman as possible.”

Link smiled a little, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders. Thanks.

Purah’s lab was actually some way outside town, an hour or two’s brisk walk up the winding road on the hill. Link waved to Tokk as he passed by, and spoke to a girl who was pacing the fence of her land, clutching a tree branch like she expected to fend off a swarm of moblin with it, which turned out to not be far from the truth.

He promised to clear the beach and kept going, weaving his steady way up the hill, eyes on the mysterious building at the top. Mipha and Daruk both kept pace with him, and Mipha sat with him when he stopped to catch his breath, rubbing his face in frustration.

“Stretch,” Mipha reminded him, gentle and attentive, and Link sighed and started to move through them; he’d neglected them a little all through Faron and even in Lurelin, and doing them now made him wince again. “They’ll get easier with time, Link.”

Link gave her a small, grateful smile and glanced at Daruk. Did P-u-r-a-h have a namesign?

Daruk winced, reaching up to rub the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sure she did, but I dunno what it was. Mipha?”

“Oh, I love hers,” Mipha sighed happily, and then flicked one hand into an ILY sign and snapped enthusiastically with her middle finger, then her index. “It’s adorable, she always loved it.”

Link imitated the sign, smiling a little as it stirred an odd delight in his chest, and craned his neck to look up the hill. Do you think she’ll remember me?

Mipha laughed quietly, eyes warm and dancing with affection. “You’re unforgettable, Link.”

“She might be a bit brusque,” Daruk tacked on, crossing his arms and leaning back a little. “Don’t worry about it though. She just likes her work.”

Link hummed thoughtfully, climbed to his feet, and started up the hill again. Did either of you know her very well?

To his slight surprise, both of them shook their heads. Mipha smiled at his expression and explained, “Purah kept to herself and Robbie, mostly – her research partner. She was an enormous help with understanding the divine beasts, though.” She hesitated, and Link cocked his head. Mipha sighed. “…And she and Robbie were the ones to activate the guardians.”

Link ruthlessly suppressed the sound that wanted to come out and just nodded. He reminded himself that Urbosa had said the guardians were meant to help.

It was a cold comfort.

He stopped a few yards away from the tech lab, craning his neck to look as far up as he could. The most extraordinary part was the enormous telescope extending out the side, but there was also a stairwell that spiraled up and up, and a small plot of wheat planted under an apple tree. He looked at Mipha. Mipha made an encouraging motion.

Link stepped forward, knocked twice on the door, and then went inside.

There were two people that Link could see – a little girl sitting at the table, writing something on one of a dozen scattered sheets of paper, and a man that was sitting by a bookshelf, a tall stack piled up at his feet.

“Dear goddess, she really did turn herself into a child,” Mipha murmured through her fingers, staring incredulously at the little girl. Link assumed that was Purah, then.

“Either that or she had a kid,” Daruk defended, but he sounded too amused to really believe it, pacing closer to get a better look.

The little girl glanced up then, and Link was watching just closely enough to see her fingers twitch spasmodically on her pencil. Then she smiled widely and spun towards him, feet kicking in midair, and leaned one elbow on the table.

“It’s rude not to announce yourself, you know! Do you have business with the director?” Link tilted his head uncertainly, and Purah smiled wider. “He’s right over there! A very busy person, you know, but he’ll hear you out.”

Link bit his cheek and glanced at Daruk, who looked as puzzled as he did. Are you sure that’s Purah? he asked haltingly.

“…Where did you learn that namesign.”

Purah wasn’t smiling anymore.

Link took a step back, then a step forward, and tugged on his sleeve. Reminded himself that his friends were on either side of him, and met Purah’s eyes. I remember fragments sometimes, he said at last.

“Fragments isn’t enough to recognize me like this,” Purah said, which finally drew the man’s attention, his gaze fixing to them with his brow furrowed deeply.

“Ma’am, is everything alright?”

Purah flicked her fingers dismissively, head cocked as she regarded Link with sharp eyes. Link gave Daruk a slightly desperate glance, and he shrugged apologetically in return.

“She wasn’t the royal scientist for no reason,” he said. “Tell her it’s the hair. She has the same hairstyle she did then.”

You have the same hair, Link echoed obediently. Purah’s eyes narrowed.

“That took you a while,” she said casually, hopping up to sit on the table, facing him. It wasn’t a little girl’s eyes looking at him, he registered warily. “Who are you talking to, then?”

Link stiffened, stepped back, and dropped his gaze guiltily. His fingers twitched uncertainly, and Daruk huffed half a laugh.

“It’s alright, little brother. It’s not really a secret anyway.”

But Link didn’t know how to explain without going into what a failure he was. How many people he’d let down and how much faith they still had in him and how much he was still letting them down.

…Then again, Purah already knew most of that, didn’t she?

Daruk and Mipha, Link answered at last, without looking at Purah. How did you know?

Purah hummed, playing with her pencil, spinning it around her fingers. “Impa said she hasn’t sent you here yet, you’re looking at a very specific spot in midair, and as soon as you were unsure you spoke to someone that wasn’t me,” she said, and then stopped the pencil, grabbed a new paper, and scribbled. “Subject’s memories may have manifested as hallucinations, or the spirits of the champions may have lingered after their deaths in order to complete their missions. Further data needed.”

“Hey now,” Daruk protested, sounding vaguely offended.

Link’s heart skipped a beat, and his fingers twitched spasmodically.

“Revali’s gale worked, love,” Mipha said immediately, just inside his line of sight, expression intent and worried. “Revali’s gale worked on you, we’ve been scouting well outside your line of sight all this time, and we talk when you’re not around all the time. We’re with you.”

Link took in a slow, deep breath, then let it out to a silent count of his own, and nodded. When he looked up again, Purah was regarding him thoughtfully.

“So, did one of the champions tell you who I was, or did you really remember on your own?” Purah asked, leaning back and kicking her feet. “I assume the others are here too, if Daruk and Mipha are.”

Revali told me you were here, Link signed hesitantly, more than a little thrown. Sorry. I don’t… remember much.

Purah clicked her tongue a few times, spinning around to scribble down again. “Figures. Robbie and I did some calculations once your slumber of restoration hit fifty years, we kind of guessed that by a hundred your memories would be completely gone. Even fifty would’ve been a pretty big blow.” She winked at him. “Not even a little bit, though? I was the one to take you to the shrine of resurrection after you were wounded. Not even that?”

Nothing you’d want to hear, Link said wryly, a little startled when pain flashed behind Purah’s eyes. She looked away quickly, then back up, smiling again.

“Well, sit down, Linky boy!” she chirped, gesturing to the stool across from her. “I have more data to get from you yet, and not just about your incorporeal friends. Though, about them…” Another flash of something, childlike guilt maybe, flashed behind her eyes. “They know Robbie and I tried to get the beasts back, right?”

Link glanced at Mipha and Daruk, who both looked solemn. Daruk shook his head at Link, reaching up to scratch his cheek.

“We were waiting on you, little brother,” he said, voice heavy with the memory of earlier days. “I don’t think any of us expected anyone to go after the beasts… or anything inside them.”

Anything inside them. Like a body.

Link nodded at him, looked at Purah, and said, They do now. I’ll make sure Revali and Urbosa do too when they get here.

Purah grinned at him, eyes squinted shut with the brightness of the smile, and he sat down across from her where she’d indicated, watching Daruk and Mipha settle too, not far from the door.

“So, no memories at all?” Purah prompted, leaning across the table with intimidatingly intense eyes. “I mean, fragments, sure, but what does that mean? A few minutes at a time, a fact, a name?”

Link shrugged uncomfortably. Mostly it’s associations, or tiny things. My sword had a purple hilt. Mipha and blueshells had something to do with each other. But there aren’t very many of even those. Link hesitated, and then tacked on, Once I remembered… a minute, maybe two. I went to a lake near Lover’s Pond where Mipha had proposed, and I remembered some of what happened right afterward.

“You remembered that you and Mipha were engaged?” she asked with interest, leaning down to scribble.

No, Link answered shortly, and she froze again, just for a fraction of a second.

“Ouch,” she said at last, this time with audibly forced cheer. “That’s fascinating though, that going somewhere significant to you triggered a memory. You could probably use that.”

I don’t know where I’ve been, Link pointed out. Purah grinned at him.

“Well, that’s where I come in!” she said. “Can I see your slate? Symin, you come watch too!”

Symin came over obediently while Link handed over the slate, and all three of them leaned over it while Purah messed around. Symin’s eyes were bright with interest, and he openly marveled at the slate, murmuring under his breath as he ran through the runes. Link let his attention wander, gaze landing on the doorway as Revali and Urbosa finally arrived. He cocked his head, worried, and Urbosa gave him a tired nod. Revali flicked his wingtips and strode over to examine the books, and Urbosa sat by the shelves, too exhausted to show any interest.

“But I don’t recognize that last,” Symin said abruptly, drawing Link’s attention again. Purah hummed cheerfully.

“That’s because it’s Linky’s special rune! Watch this.” She played Link’s introduction, and Symin’s eyes widened.

“That’s incredible.”

“Isn’t it?” Purah said happily. “Anyway, this is one of the reasons I borrowed this. Linky, watch my finger closely.” She drew a rune on the surface of the slate, a heavily slanted letter F, and the surface transformed, revealing an entirely new interface. “That was ansuz, I’ll draw it for you again later if you need. But this will let you add new recordings to your rune!”

Link’s eyes widened, and he leaned a little closer, fascinated. Purah smiled at him.

“Watch!” she chirped, and pressed down on the red circle icon in the center of the screen. “Snap!”

She let go of the button, and it immediately switched to a new screen, still with only a couple of buttons. She pressed the first one, a triangle, and her voice played back, loud and cheerful.

“Snap!”

“So that’s to play back what you recorded,” she explained earnestly, and then moved on across the screen. “This lets you go back to record something else without saving, and then this box…” She tapped one of them and navigated through the new menu. “Will let you add this to a category or make a new one.” She added it to ‘exclamations’ and returned to the previous screen, then tapped the second box. “And this one will let you label it!” She labeled it ‘snap!’ “And this one…” Tap. “Saves the new entry!”

Link nodded along, leaning on the table with wide eyes, his attention caught now. That seems really useful. But are you sure it’s okay?

Purah’s smile softened a little. “Yeah. These recordings were all made for a different time and different needs. I’m sure you know best what gaps you need filled.” She shrugged. “This is an adaptive rune at heart, so adapt it.”

Link smiled at her brightly enough that she looked briefly flustered. Thank you!

She pushed her glasses up, embarrassed. “Of course. Now, for the rest of our business…”

It was dusk by the time Link got the furnace lit, and by dark he was sitting on the ground behind the lab, flipping through the first twelve pictures on the slate. Back and forth, forward and back. All of them were landscapes, none of them had people. He thought he might know where one of them was.

“Hn,” he grunted softly, and Mipha moved to sit beside him, looking with him.

“I recognize some of these,” she said thoughtfully. “That one is at the Sacred Ground… that one is at the east gate of Lanayru Road… that one is Sanidin Park…”

Link nodded along, not so much taking notes as reassuring himself that Mipha recognized them, could maybe help him find them. Maybe they wouldn’t all unlock memories, but… maybe some of them would. And he thought maybe Mipha understood, because she called Daruk over to help her, and then an only slightly reluctant Revali and Urbosa.

They weren’t certain about all of them, but they had a pretty good idea between them, and it had Link smiling softly, cheered by the thought.

“You should probably look for your flamboyant friend about now,” Revali said casually, examining his flight feathers. “It’s getting to be a touch late.”

Link started, looking up at Revali and then down to Hateno Village. He nodded quickly, climbing to his feet and shaking himself off. Without thinking, he brushed the dirt off his clothes and looked down anxiously, and Mipha laughed.

“You look fine, Link,” she said kindly, eyes sparkling with fondness. “Do you mind if I come along? Hateno has always had some of the best music.”

Link smiled at her and shook his head, and then glanced at the others in question.

Revali sighed in exasperation, tilting his beak up haughtily, then belied it by saying, “I suppose I might as well. It’s likely changed over the years.”

Urbosa just shook her head, brooding gaze somewhere off in the distance. She looked small; she looked tired. Link faltered, worried, and Daruk caught his eye and gave him a subtle nod, seating himself not far from Urbosa. Link relaxed. Daruk would take care of her.

“Have fun, brother,” Daruk said with a small, fond grin, and Link flashed him a smile, then grabbed his paraglider to sail down.

He caught up with Bolson on the man’s way past the cooking pots, smiling sheepishly as he tucked his paraglider away. Bolson managed to hold a disapproving expression for all of about five seconds before he gave in and ruffled Link’s hair, amused.

“Ditzy sort of girl, aren’t you?” he said fondly, and then beckoned. “Come on, Hudson has to say goodbye to the boys anyway.”

Hudson shrugged when Link looked at him, so Link tagged along, Revali and Mipha both joining him and Daruk and Urbosa bowing out.

There was music playing in the building that Bolson led them to – a piano.

Mipha cooed instantly in interest and ducked right through the wall, and Revali went in as well, only just ahead of Link and Bolson. Link glanced uncertainly at Bolson, who gave him a carefree smile and a wink.

“Now do you usually go for boys or girls?” Bolson asked briskly.

Link thought about it. There was Mipha, of course, but the question tickled something in his head again, a flash of emerald feathers and his fingers in short hair. Yes, he decided.

“She said yes,” Hudson supplied.

Bolson stopped, turned to Link, and considered him again, his face starting to crinkle into affectionate amusement. “Should I introduce you as a boy or a girl?”

Link looked down at his clothing, the brightly dyed green tunic and the darker brown trousers and the amber earrings he’d chosen to wear with them, and shrugged. Boy, I guess?

Bolson clicked his tongue a few times, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Oh, child, if you were only a decade or two older. You’re going to be a hit with the kids, I just know it.”

Link felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, and then they were inside, the dark room lit with gently glowing sneaky snail shells, flower garlands of silent princesses and blue nightshade, and a few stray fairies. Looking around, Link could see Manny and Prima shuffling together not far from the piano, Manny’s face bright pink and a cricket hopping out of Prima’s pocket. Revali was actually sitting on the piano, or appeared to be – how did that work? Link hadn’t asked – and Mipha wasn’t far away, looking wistful.

Mipha caught his eye and gave him a small smile and a nod, and he nodded back before Bolson caught his attention again and steered him over to the bar.

“Wunjo!” Bolson called out, drawing the attention of the heavyset man behind the counter. Bolson waved, pushing Link forward with his other hand. “A new kid came into town, name’s Link, answers to anything. Link, this is Wunjo, he’s owned and operated the Fruit Fairy for about as long as I’ve been out.”

“Probably longer than you’ve been alive,” Wunjo agreed, giving Link a nod and an assessing look. He tried not to smile. Little did Wunjo know. “Well, you sure look queer as a pink rupee. Where are you from?”

Link set his slate on the counter and tapped out, “Nowhere.” It felt very true.

Bolson snorted, reaching out to ruffle his hair again. “He’s a mystery, but he’s got ambition. Trying to buy that house up above Firly Pond, you know the one?”

Wunjo nodded, eyebrows raised. “Thinking about settling down here?” he asked Link. Link shook his head instantly.

“Traveling. Need a place to rest,” he explained. It would be good to have a place to retreat during an episode, or if he was hurt, or just burnt out and exhausted. A place to keep things, too, maybe.

“Practical,” Bolson chuckled, thumping Link on the back and earning a grunt, and then he dragged Hudson forward. “Now, in other news-”

Link smiled a little, leaning on the bar and watching as the four men made conversation, Karson and Wunjo taking turns gently ribbing Hudson for his incoming departure while Bolson tried not to look too proud.

After a while, Link got bored and looked around, gaze flicking thoughtfully over the crowd. There was a small group of women playing a card game, one of them flirting with her neighbor to sneak glances at her cards while the flustered woman was gathering herself.

And there was a small mixed group around Link’s age, gathered into a cluster somewhere in the middle of the floor. Exactly as Link caught sight of them, one of them spotted him as well, a boy with long brown hair in a messy bun, and wove neatly through the thin crowd toward him.

“Hey!” he called out, stopping a comfortable distance away to grin at him. His eyes sparkled in the light of the fairies and shells. “You look like a cute new face, you wanna dance with us? We’re one short of a good three-three dance.”

That didn’t mean anything to Link, but he nodded enthusiastically, signaled Karson to let him know he was going, and when Karson waved him off, he followed the other boy onto the floor and into the group. The boy introduced himself as Jera, and Link flicked his fingers through the spelling of his own name; one of the girls recognized and translated it and that was that.

Link grunted loudly to catch Jera’s attention again, and smiled when he looked over, gesturing inquisitively in his hair. Jera reached up, looking surprised and then briefly bashful, then shrugged. “This? Yeah, my folks are always trying to get me to braid it like yours, but I like how the Sheikah do it better. Buns are pretty cool.” Link made a snipping motion, and laughed when Jera wrinkled his nose. “Ew, no. Who wants short hair? That’s so boring.”

Jera taught Link how to pull his ponytail into a bun into, and Link had to bite down a bashful giggle when Jera helped him, fingers briefly in Link’s hair before he pulled away again, winking. Link beamed back and pinched the sleeve of Jera’s tunic for a fleeting second, and Jera ran with it, chattering about scavenging in the forests to find enough bright-colored sunshrooms, and flower petals, and moving around a little to show off the cut of it before one of the girls jabbed him in the side.

“Hey, stop flirting so we can dance,” she said brusquely. Jera huffed and rolled his eyes dramatically, then turned back to Link.

“You know how to dance?” Jera asked him, and Link shook his head. Jera shrugged, grabbed his hand, and the group separated into three groups of three.

Oh. Link smiled and reached out to take the hand of the other boy, a redhead with shoulder-length curled hair and one hoop earring, to form a triad. Then he looked at Jera again, expectant.

“Follow my lead,” Jera told him, and when the pianist shifted from one melody to the next, giving the group of kids a sly grin over his shoulder, they started.

Link followed Jera’s lead, and within a few minutes he was laughing, keeping up with the others as they spun and whirled around each other in a simple, rhythmic pattern that, in a way that had nothing to do with the movement itself, somehow felt like flying.

Chapter Text

Link spent most of the next morning sitting by the pond and the horned statue, humming to himself in quiet pleasure as he made notes on his slate. He didn’t have anyone he could ask to record anything yet, but it couldn’t hurt to keep the possibility in mind.

Blood moon, malice, stalfos, monster camp, how do I prepare, what does it look like… a few variations on explanations of his amnesia, a few more for his scarring, perhaps even one or two for his quest when the time came…

“I see you’re enjoying yourself.”

It was the ice-cold tone of Urbosa’s voice, rather than her actual words, that made Link freeze up before he warily looked over. She was sitting in a dangerously languid posture, arms crossed and eyes like frozen steel.

Nodding was not the correct response, so Link did not answer her.

“She poured hours of work into that for you, you know,” Urbosa said evenly, nodding down at the slate in Link’s hands. It suddenly felt very heavy. “It was the only thing she would talk about for weeks – nearly two months, I believe, trying to figure out how to make it best suited to you, recording her voice until her throat was hoarse. To help you.”

Link couldn’t look away from Urbosa’s bitter expression, thinly-veiled grief and hurt and rage.

“Do you know where she is while you’re playing with her gift?” Urbosa said, deadly soft, like Link had ever stopped thinking about Zelda. “She’s trapped in Hyrule Castle, still fighting Ganon, all alone.” She leaned closer, and Link couldn’t move away, frozen in cold stone. “Put that down, Link. You don’t deserve it.”

“Urbosa!”

Daruk’s incensed bellow was loud enough to hurt Link’s ears, but he found he couldn’t even pull himself together to react, staring wide-eyed at Urbosa. Urbosa whipped around, eyes still dark with anger, and bared her teeth at Daruk.

“What?” she snapped, and it was only then, unlocked from the awful intensity of Urbosa’s accusing gaze, that Link was able to look at Daruk.

Daruk was angrier than Link had ever seen him.

“Is this how you treat a fellow warrior when he’s down?” Daruk snapped, not at Link but at Urbosa. Not usually one to use force with friends, Daruk nonetheless reached down and grabbed Urbosa by the arm, pulling her to her feet despite her obvious outrage. “You stoop to berating him for something he can’t help? For his goddess-damned voice? For Din’s sake, Urbosa, pull yourself the flame together-”

He kept talking as he pulled Urbosa away, Urbosa starting to bite back with clear venom, but Link stopped hearing them, his ears ringing unpleasantly. He put the Sheikah Slate away. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, fluttering and frantic.

By the time Mipha found him, around twenty minutes later, he’d pulled himself up onto the nearest peak, orienting himself towards the castle to watch the writhing malice monster that encircled it. Zelda was in there, fighting it alone.

He wondered if he’d made the right choice at all.

It wasn’t too late to change his mind. He’d had a month already.

Link didn’t react when Mipha sat down kitty-corner to him, slow and careful like he was a skittish woodland creature she didn’t want to startle.

Urbosa didn’t mean what she said, Mipha said after a moment, earnest and slow. He didn’t move, and she continued, It’s true that Zelda put a lot of effort into that, but it was for you. She wanted you to have it. She wanted to make things easier for you. She was always so happy to see you put it to use.

I abandoned her, Link said, slow and shaky, because it was true. She was my friend and I abandoned her.

That’s not true, Mipha said firmly. You withdrew to recover. That’s what you’re supposed to do when you’re injured. Live to fight another day. She can wait a few months more.

Urbosa was right. I don’t deserve her kindness.

Urbosa was wrong, Mipha replied urgently. She’s upset, because Zelda has always been like a daughter to her. But she is wrong.

I hurt her. I hurt you.

It’s not up to you to fix everything for everyone, Mipha tried, and he was sorry that he was hurting her but his mind was whirling and he couldn’t bring himself to give in. Urbosa was right. He needed to do better. He was supposed to do better.

I’m sorry, he signed helplessly, and heard her sigh, quiet and frustrated.

Mipha looked up past him at something coming up behind him, and after a moment signed quickly, Use sign. He’s upset.

A moment later, Daruk came and sat down across from Link, blocking the view of the castle. He looked tired, frustrated, and pensive, and all at once like the weight of the world was on him and he was sick of it.

Urbosa shouldn’t have said that, Daruk said bluntly. It was a low blow and you didn’t deserve it. It’s your communication rune and you can use it however you want. Doesn’t matter what anyone says.

It’s okay, Link signed, just to make them go away. I don’t need it. You can get away with a lot without speaking at all.

You like it and it makes things easier, Daruk countered. That’s all the reason you need.

Link shook his head, feeling sick. Daruk sighed, and he and Mipha exchanged a few words before Daruk got up and walked away again. Mipha didn’t try to speak to him again, but she didn’t leave either; it was comforting.

A few minutes later, Daruk returned, this time with Urbosa in tow. Link tensed, but Urbosa didn’t look angry anymore.

She looked remorseful.

Urbosa sat down in the space Daruk had taken up before, and didn’t look away from him as she signed, I’m sorry for lashing out at you. I shouldn’t have done that. It was wrong of me to take my fear out on you, and cruel to use your speech aid against you. She sighed, exhaustion and pensiveness flickering across her expression, and added resignedly, I spoke in anger. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that.

Link let out a shaky breath and nodded shallowly. He still felt cold.

It’s okay, he signed tentatively. I understand.

He left it at that, not sure where to go from there. He felt… a little lost. Hollow. Urbosa sighed quietly.

Why don’t you go back to noting down what you need? she suggested kindly. Purah was right. Those recordings were made in a different time, for different circumstances.

He shook his head and repeated, It’s okay.

“Move over,” Revali snapped to Urbosa, who gave him an irritated look but nonetheless made room. Revali sat down in front of Link, and Link wondered vaguely how long he’d been there, face starting to heat in humiliation. “Are you together enough to understand spoken words or do I need to mortify myself with attempts at sign?”

Link didn’t smile. You can talk. But it’s fine. I’m fine.

Revali didn’t grace that with a response. “I have been angry at the situation. I do not approve of the fact that Hyrule placed its hopes on goddess-chosen teenagers instead of experienced and capable warriors. I have resented that it went exactly as I expected it to.”

“Revali!” Mipha snapped, while Link went quietly slack, listening to Revali with nothing but raw resignation.

“I’m getting to it,” Revali said curtly to Mipha, and then, to Link, “I have never disapproved of you. I stopped doubting your capabilities as a knight a long time ago. I have even – and I will deny it if any of you attempt to repeat this – I have even been impressed with your resilience and your ability to compensate for your inability to speak.”

Thoroughly confused, Link rubbed his hands together, staring at Revali, and then asked meekly, Why are you telling me this?

Revali exhaled, familiar and exasperated. “I don’t think it matters what anyone thinks of how you manage what you do,” he said bluntly. “You have your tools, there’s no returning them to where they came from, and you’ve made excellent use of them in the past. It would be to everyone’s benefit if you continued to do so.”

But why can’t I just speak with my fucking mouth? Link burst out at last, almost angrier to feel frustrated tears stinging his eyes. If he could just talk, then Zelda wouldn’t have needed to waste so much time on helping him. No one would have had to learn sign for his sake. He wouldn’t take up so much room, be so much trouble. Basic interaction wouldn’t have to be a task.

Revali looked wide-eyed, obviously taken aback. Mipha, on the other hand, rounded on Urbosa.

“Are you happy, Urbosa?” she hissed, and it was such an unfamiliar tone coming from her that Link had to turn around and look to confirm for him that Mipha really was angry – flushed, shaking, twisted. Even Urbosa looked startled. “Did this make you feel better about yourself?”

Urbosa didn’t look unsympathetic, though she clearly wasn’t amused either. “Mipha, you know I didn’t mean this-”

“I don’t care!” Mipha snapped, which made Urbosa close her mouth quickly, eyes wide. “Link has been struggling immeasurably, which you know very well, so it’s absolutely unforgiveable that you found one single moment of happiness he allowed himself and used it to hurt him where he is most vulnerable-”

Urbosa was starting to look defensive, even if the edge of remorse never left her expression as she countered, “I spoke in anger, and I apologize but it does happen. You know what Zelda means to me. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know,” Mipha said, so tightly that Link was already bracing himself for what she would say next before she spoke, “that you’re lashing out at Link for not being strong enough to compensate for your failure. And I won’t stand for it anymore.”

Urbosa went dead pale, and Daruk and Revali both inhaled sharply.

“Mipha, maybe we should take a minute and cool off-” Daruk started, low and soothing, and Mipha bristled.

“No, I’m not done,” she said curtly. “Tell me, Urbosa, why is it Link’s job to step in where everyone else falls short? Why does Link have to break himself just because he’s the only one who managed to crawl out of his grave?”

“You know very well that the stakes are more than that-” Urbosa started, loud and sharp.

Link didn’t hear any of the rest; he was already walking away, unnoticed.

Clearing Hateno beach didn’t take as long as Lurelin had; its encampment was much smaller, and with one silver monster guarding a monster’s treasure chest. He was done by the time Mipha had composed herself again, which he knew because she appeared near him as he was harvesting parts, the drowned bokoblin laying in rows where he’d dragged them back to shore.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, voice soft with concern.

His heart rate had calmed down, the strangling shame and frustration eased to a faint simmer. He sighed and nodded, looking up to meet her eyes.

I’m sorry for overreacting, he signed, ignoring how heavy he still felt. I know Urbosa didn’t mean it. Hateno’s just been hard on her.

You didn’t do anything wrong, Mipha signed adamantly, and she still looked worried, her tail-tip flicking in agitation. It’s only been a month, you’re allowed quite a bit of volatility.

A month’s a long time, Link said, without quite looking at her, and then went back to prying out bokoblin fangs.

By the time the others caught up as well, Link had located a nearby raft and was climbing a palm tree to take a korok leaf off it. Revali was still visibly fuming, which was a surprise, and Daruk was stony in a way that said he was still displeased with Urbosa.

Urbosa… Urbosa looked tired.

Link dropped down to the beach with his korok leaf, bent his knees to absorb the fall, and then pointed at himself and the shrine in the distance. As soon as one of them nodded, he stepped onto the raft, wobbling a little to keep his balance as it bobbed in the water, and then sailed towards the tiny island.

The wind blew in his face, but with his fringes braided and weighed down, his hair stayed out of his mouth. That was nice.

(He tried not to wonder how many of the champions had had to learn sign just for him.)

Briskly, he beached himself on the island, ignored the others as they caught up again, activated the shrine and went inside. When he saw what it was, he nodded to himself, sat down, and sorted through his gear.

He hadn’t tried out his barbarian armor yet. He stripped off his tunic, shrugged on the sparse leather and fur, and then started to delicately paint on the runes that went with it. Enchanted, his trousers were still better than his new soldier armor, but the diamond circlet went back on his head with the amber earrings, and the bracers that went with the barbarian armor as well.

An hour later he was out again, rolling his shoulders and shaking his hands off with a faint grimace. Mipha perked up as soon as she saw him, worry still clear in her eyes.

“Everything go well?” she asked.

Link shrugged and nodded, rubbing the sting out of his forearm before he answered. The barbarian armor is interesting. I should get more use out of it. And I need to get better at parrying with my shield. I broke two before I managed it.

Mipha took a moment to process that, brow pinching slightly. “Another test of strength?” she asked at last. He nodded. “Are you okay?”

Link gave her a small smile and a nod. Only got burned a few times. I’m fine. But I think I’ll warp to Kakariko and ask Cotera to help enchant my armor again.

It had been a tough fight; his stomach was still churning with a nausea born of fear. Getting through the scout’s shield had been a nightmare. But he’d managed it fine, as the monk must have known he would.

He wanted to throw up. He definitely needed to get the soldier’s armor enchanted.

“Then let’s go,” Daruk said firmly. “You can talk to that little girl again. Koko, right?”

Link’s smile eased a little, and he nodded. He should give her some new food to work with – not much that would spoil, maybe just some blueshells, but definitely things she wouldn’t be able to get otherwise. Vegetables, fruit, a few of the more interesting herbs. She’d be thrilled.

He swiped through the Sheikah slate and picked a shrine, and with a rush of static and ozone, he warped away.

It was as he was stepping away from the shrine that he nearly smacked right into someone, a Sheikah man he hadn’t seen before. For a moment, they just blinked at each other owlishly, and then Link cocked his head. The man smiled sheepishly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

“Caught red-handed!” he chuckled. “I didn’t even see you coming.” Link blinked at him placidly, and he turned somehow even more bashful. “Name’s Pikango, I’m a bit of a traveler – I haven’t seen you around before.”

Link shrugged and nodded, then gestured in the direction Pikango had been walking. Pikango brightened.

“Ah, are you too looking for the Great Fairy Fountain?” Link nodded. “Then perhaps we can search together! The Sheikah here are incredibly protective of it, but I assure you I mean no harm. You see, my greatest desire is to one day paint it-”

Link walked with Pikango, mentally charting their progress through the forest, and stopped to sit and wait with him while he caught his breath, wheezing softly with effort. When he seemed recovered, Link touched his elbow lightly, and then urged him on, walking at a slower pace.

This was easy. This was simple. It wasn’t something he needed to think about. He kept his mind focused on it anyway, shoving away the events of the morning with as much force as he could muster.

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t already known. He owed Zelda plenty, and all of his friends too. For- for everything, really.

“You don’t look Sheikah,” Pikango chattered, still breathing a little heavily. “But you seem quite confident here- oh!” Link had touched his elbow again, steering him off the path into the deeper forest. “Oh, my, do you know where you’re going?”

Link gave him a small smile and nodded, and Pikango’s face lit up.

A few minutes later, they broke through the tree line and into the clearing where Cotera lived. Pikango gasped, awe spreading over his face, and he sat down hard, staring at the massive fungus-flower that made up the fairy fountain.

Two fairies flew straight for Link, and he smiled at them, holding up one hand for them to land on. Both of them fell delicately onto his fingers, wings fluttering rapidly, and with his free hand, Link blew them a gentle kiss.

They beamed at him in near-perfect unison, and then one tumbled off and fell by his Sheikah slate, disappearing inside. A second later, the other one followed, and Link chuckled softly, oddly fond. When he glanced up, Pikango was still fixed on the fountain, mouth open. Link nudged him, and Pikango looked up at him, wide-eyed. Link gestured towards the fountain.

“Oh. Oh!” Pikango scrambled forward, knelt on the mushroom platform, and then scrambled back again as Cotera burst out of the fountain in a spray of sacred water. Link snickered.

“Oh, my,” Cotera mused, leaning down comically far to bring herself even halfway to Pikango’s level. “Who’s this?”

Pikango gaped for a moment, mouth opening and closing, and then he squeaked and reached for his wallet. Cotera laughed, booming and musical, and Link smiled a little and turned away, letting the two of them have their moment.

It was a few minutes later, while he was still digging up some endura carrots he’d found tucked behind the fountain, that Pikango found him, practically beaming.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispered, like it was a secret. Link nodded. “How did you find her?”

Link smiled and shrugged, and then circled around the fountain to where Cotera was still up, bright-eyed and curious. She cooed at him as he reappeared, and Link waved and blew her a kiss too.

“Helloooo, sweetheart. Did you need something or are you just here to say hi?” She sounded fond. “Thank you for helping Tera out, darling, it’s been absolutely wonderful to have her back with me.”

Link gave her a small smile and a nod, and then started to take out clothing and armor a piece at a time, laying it out carefully on the edges. She shrank into her fountain to get a closer look at them, avidly interested, and off to one side, Pikango was sketching furiously.

It took the better part of an hour to work through everything and write down what he still needed, but he was extremely satisfied by the end of it; the enchantments on everything had been reinforced, he had a couple of good sets for battle and for regular wear and stealth. And by the end of it, his nausea had settled, some of the overstimulated anxiety easing out of his nerves.

He waved to Cotera, and she blew him a kiss and then ducked back into the water.

“You already knew her,” Pikango said, as they were walking back. Link nodded. For a few more yards, Pikango just stared at him, gaze boring into the side of his head, and then finally he said, “Thank you for showing me the way. I don’t think I’d have ever found that beauty on my own.” Link’s mouth twitched into another smile, and he shrugged and nodded. “Is there anything I can do to repay you? I don’t keep much on me, but I travel often. If you’re looking for something…”

He trailed off, and Link actually stopped, giving Pikango a considering look. The others stopped around him, unseen and still quiet and subdued after the events of the morning. He wished they wouldn’t worry so much.

Eventually, Link nodded, reached for his slate, and flicked through it until he found the album. There were a few pictures he and the others hadn’t managed to identify…

Chapter Text

It felt slightly odd to be inside Kakariko with his friends; last time he’d been here, they’d stayed outside, allowing him to maintain the guise that they were still alive. Mipha and Daruk kept pace with him this time, while Revali went to watch the town from a high perch, and Urbosa disappeared in the direction of Impa’s home.

Link found Koko exactly where he’d expected to, darting purposefully towards the cooking pot that the grocer kept outside. He whistled, and she jumped and looked over to him, mouth opening a little in surprise.

“Mister Link!” she called out, making him smile faintly. She waved furiously, hopping up and down like she thought he’d miss her, and didn’t stop until he waved back. “You came back! Where did you go? Was it very far?”

Link grunted noncommittally, gesturing for her to keep going as he fell in beside her. She did without protest, wide eyes still fixed on him as if with wonder, and Mipha and Daruk allowed themselves to blend into the background, letting him have his time with the living as if they weren’t there at all. Link wondered if they stayed because they were curious, or because they thought he’d wander off if left alone.

Link sat beside the cooking pot and set the fire, and then looked up at Koko, humming expectantly. Koko took a moment to understand before she started to tremble with excitement again, eyes bright.

“Oh! Oh! Are you going to help me cook, Mister Link?” Link smiled a little and nodded. Koko beamed. “We’ll make something really good then! Can you show me a new recipe, mister? Please pretty please?” Link chuckled and nodded, and Koko bounced once before flopping down to sit nearby, fixing an intensely focused gaze on him.

Mipha looked wistful. Link wondered why, but prodding his memory didn’t offer anything up at all, so he focused on setting out the ingredients.

They needed enough for four people, so Link laid out enough for all of them: a few cups of rice, two large mighty porgies, a dozen blueshell snails, a small jar of salt, a few assorted herbs, most of a pound of goat butter, and his filled water skin. Koko ‘ooh’ed in amazement.

“Fish!” she exclaimed with delight, and Link gave her a nod. “Koko hardly ever gets to eat fish. What are these?” She picked up one of the blueshell snails, and Link gently took it from her and turned it over to show her the meat inside. She ‘ooh’ed again. “Cool…”

In that matter, relying mostly on Koko’s attentiveness and eagerness to learn, Link walked her through the recipe: she chopped up the greens, the Hyrule herb and mighty thistle and razorshrooms, and he cleaned the porgies. He plopped a generous pat of butter into the cooking pot, and after only a minute or two of sautéing the greens, he let her take over while he chopped the porgy. He added the rice when the vegetables were done, and happened to glance up.

Mipha was smiling, faint and almost dreamy, and the back of his mind whispered, children. But there was nothing more than that, so he spared her a small smile and then turned his attention back to Koko.

He whistled softly for Koko’s attention, and then tossed in a handful of rock salt and drizzled in enough water to swirl the rice in. He stirred it just enough to mix everything together, exactly as Kiana had shown him, and then made a show of setting the spoon down across the pot and sitting back, leaving it alone.

“Ohhh,” Koko breathed, and then made a show of sitting back to watch in exactly the same way. Link almost chuckled.

While they were waiting, he taught Koko a few simple signs – rice, water, butter, fish – and once she caught on to what he was doing, she followed along eagerly, checking the translation out loud so he could confirm or correct it.

When he felt it was ready, Link tossed in the chopped porgy and the blueshells, and used the ladle to push them into the rice. He did half of the work, and then passed it to Koko so she could do the other half, which she did with great concentration, brow furrowed.

“Mister Link?” Koko asked while that was cooking, tone worried. “Did something happen to your voice? The one you were using last time.”

Link stayed quiet for a long moment, staring at the cooking paella. He could feel Mipha and Daruk’s eyes burning into the side of his head. Finally, he shook his head, tapped his chest with his fist, and covered his eyes, slumping a little in an exaggeration of anguish.

That was as close as he could come to explaining to the little girl that the thought of using his slate right now made him want to vomit.

“Oh,” Koko said, in a tone that made it clear she didn’t understand at all. “Okay.”

But then she reached out and took Link’s hand and squeezed it, and he felt himself relax a little, sighing.

One of the larger stoneware pieces in his slate was a bowl just big enough for the entire batch of paella, so he spooned it out of the pot and allowed Koko to herd him back to her house. They got there just as Dorian was arriving as well, Cottla on his hip and chattering away about crickets and frogs and something about the sounds they made- Link was having trouble following, but it made him smile.

Dorian froze for a split second when he saw Link, his arms tightening around Cottla. Concerned, Link tilted his head inquisitively, but as soon as the feeling came, it passed, and Dorian relaxed again, smiling at Link as if nothing had occurred at all.

“Link, it’s good to see you,” Dorian said, stepping inside and holding the door open for Link and Koko to follow. “I don’t believe we were expecting you for a few more months.”

Just visiting, Link signed, even though he hadn’t really decided for certain yet. I passed through Gerudo Town, Lurelin, and Hateno. Dorian’s expression spasmed slightly. The corner of Link’s mouth twitched up in response. It’s not that bad. It’s nice to be a girl once in a while.

Dorian’s expression did something funny before it smoothed into a smile, and he set Cottla down at last, letting her run towards Koko to sniff the new dish that had gone onto the table. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never tried, he signed with some humor, not quite hiding the shadow in his eyes. But no, that wasn’t my concern. There are rumors that the Yiga headquarters is near the desert, and they’ve been extremely active recently.

Link’s smile disappeared. He shrugged, and without answering, asked instead, Do you mind if I stay for dinner? I don’t mean to intrude, but…

Of course – you made it, didn’t you?

As if by silent pact, neither of them approached that topic again.

Koko showed Link how to set the table, and Dorian divided up the fresh paella between the four of them. Somehow Link got roped into talking about what he’d been doing, so Dorian translated for him while he tried to remember as much about Gerudo Town and Hateno as he could. He gave both girls a small cup of wildberries, which made them squeal with excitement.

“Don’t worry about the cooking pot,” Dorian added quietly, when Link was just getting ready to leave. “I always wash it for Koko.”

Link gave him a small, grateful smile and a nod, spent a few more minutes letting Cottla climb him and chatter, and then gave Koko some of the honey he’d picked up the week before, plus a few hydromelons and voltfruits for good measure.

He caught Lasli walking home, and she gave him a small, weary smile and a wave.

“This used to be my favorite time of day, you know,” she said wistfully. Link tilted his head. “It’s so peaceful at night. The stars, the crickets, the fireflies… but there are too many monsters nearby lately. It’s not safe to go out.”

Her disappointment was palpable. Link nudged her elbow, aiming for comforting, and she laughed a little, shaking her head.

“Yeah, I guess there have always been monsters, huh,” she murmured, and then sighed. “I shouldn’t complain. Kakariko is so closed off that it’s hard for monsters to get through in any numbers. Our mountains protect us. But I miss the fireflies. There aren’t so many in the village.”

Link considered her for a moment, and then flicked through his slate and released a single firefly, coaxing it to land on his finger so he could show it to her. Jerked abruptly out of her thoughts, Lasli let out a soft, surprised ‘oh’ and held out her hand. The firefly flew away, and she laughed a little.

“That’s incredible. Say, could you release a few of those in my house, if you have more? I know they won’t stay long, but…” Lasli trailed off, and Link gave her a small smile and a nod.

He wouldn’t soon forget the wonder on her face as she watched the fireflies dance in her room, and with a small smile, he slipped out, closed the door behind him, and headed for the inn.

“My poor cuccos!” Cado sobbed, and Link tried not to smile (too much) as he patted the man reassuringly. Considered how many cuccos he’d seen when he was wandering the village, and plucked at Cado’s tunic until the man looked at him, sniffling comically.

I’ll go find them, Link promised, and stifled another laugh at the childlike hope that lit up Cado’s eyes.

Finding the cuccos took Link well into the evening, fetching them from all the places they’d gotten themselves stuck – roofs and gardens and occasionally in other people’s coops. The others spread out almost meekly, calling out when they found one for him to fetch. It was the most they’d said to him all day; he’d spent the morning cooking extra meals and fending off Cottla’s ill-advised attempts to reach into the cast iron, and their silence had been stifling.

It wasn’t until he was throwing a stone at a cucco in a closely-watched orchard that Link realized the dry cough was back, a scratchy tickle in his throat that seemed to come back every couple of minutes.

But he got all the cuccos back to Cado, tolerated his tearful gratitude, and, on impulse, sat on the fence to watch them peck at the handfuls of food Cado had tossed inside.

Abruptly, Cado’s dramatic sniffles stopped. After a few minutes, he even came to perch alongside Link, watching him instead of the cuccos.

“Is something wrong, sir?” Cado asked quietly, a man two decades Link’s senior addressing him like a superior.

Link muffled a cough into his arm, and thought about it. Impa’s grand home loomed somewhere behind him, out of sight but never once far from his mind.

What do you owe to someone who’s helped you? he asked, not entirely sure where the thought had come from.

But he’d slept well the night before, one nightmare that had he’d forgotten as soon as he’d opened his eyes, rolled over, and gone back to sleep. He was wearing his new clothes, the prettiest vivid green one shade darker than grass and trousers in a deep brown like rich soil, boots fitted to his feet and nicely broken in. His fringes were braided in elegant twists, and wooden beads hung off the ends.

He was alive.

“Is this about the cuccos?” Cado asked tentatively. Link sighed, coughed, and made to stand, and Cado cut him off. “Wait, don’t go. This… seems important.” Cado hesitated for a moment longer, and then asked instead, “Is… someone trying to make you do something?”

The irony made Link want to laugh, except he really, really didn’t.

No, but maybe they should, Link said honestly. Cado studied him, a deep furrow in his brow.

I think you’ve given a lot already, Cado signed at last. He was better at it than Dorian was – more practiced. And that if you don’t want to, it’s probably for a good reason.

Link muffled another cough into his elbow, grimacing as it shook his whole chest. He rubbed it ruefully with his knuckles for a second, and then signed, Did Impa tell you what I’m doing?

She did, as it happens, Cado said, clearly puzzled. It’s a wiser decision than I would have expected from a kid your age. Most teenagers are eager to jump in without looking. But I suppose it’s no surprise that you’re unusually mature.

Link watched the cuccos eat for a few minutes more.

Thanks, he said at last, and then hopped off the fence, turned, and walked with purpose towards the slope that led up to the shrine and the fairy fountain.

The others fell in behind him as if on cue.

“Did you get something out of that exercise?” Revali asked, without nearly the force it needed to be scornful. Link shrugged, started to wrap his arms around himself, and then cleared his sticky throat, grimacing.

I think I’ll go to Mount Lanayru next, he signed instead, pointedly sidestepping the elephant in the room. Despite that, Mipha let out a sigh of obvious relief. Link coughed. Someone in Hateno said the Spring of Wisdom was there. And one of the photos is this way, isn’t it?

“Yes,” Mipha said, oddly eager. “Yes, just across the promenade. It looks like it was taken right by the far gate.”

Link granted her a small smile, and then kept walking.

Some amount of tension seemed to have alleviated with that, and Daruk even smiled as they made their way through the forest. “Good to have stuff to look for as you go, eh, brother? You’ll want to bundle up before you start climbing. Mount Lanayru’s mighty cold for little Hylians.”

Link hummed noncommittally, kneeling to pick a few mushrooms as he spotted them, and then some nightshade and a silent princess. He found a nest and took two eggs, dropped back down, and coughed, scaring away a squirrel.

Mipha was ignoring Urbosa with a deliberateness that seemed extraordinarily determined – so much so that she was constantly torn between hovering over Link and playing keep-away. He wished that he could touch her, to physically remind her that he was alright. Or that he could do so verbally.

Instead, he kept walking.

A mile or two down the path, a traveler was pacing back and forth, running agitated fingers through his hair. Link hesitated, a bad feeling like nausea creeping up his spine, and his hand wanted to stray to the lizal spear he had on his back. His jaw set warily.

However. There was only one way forward for now, and he’d have to pass the traveler to go forward. He exhaled, forced himself to let go, and made to skirt around the man, passing him with brisk steps.

“Wait!” the man called out, taking a few quick (too quick) steps toward him. Link stopped, caught between worry and fear, and held the man’s gaze. “You look strong. Can you help me?”

Some of the tension eased out of Link’s shoulders. He glanced at the others, Daruk looking just as concerned, Mipha lost in her own thoughts with her hands behind her and her eyes on the ground, Revali bored, and Urbosa trailing far behind.

He looked at the man again and held out one hand, inviting him closer. He shuffled near, nervous, and Link relaxed a little.

“There’s, um, there’s a group I’m a part of,” the man mumbled. Link nodded along encouragingly. “And we never seem to have enough members… it’s hard to get anything done.”

Link nodded again, beckoning to indicate he should go on as curiosity bloomed in his chest.

The man grinned. Link’s stomach flipped, and he was leaping back, grasping for the lizal spear before the man could move, his heart in his throat. Daruk let out a shout of alarm; Revali swore, startled.

“Will you join the Yiga Clan?” the man leered, and then he was lunging, and Link caught the curve of his blade along the shaft of the spear.

The blade cleaved Link’s spear neatly in two, and he grasped blindly for another weapon without daring to look away, coming up after a moment with another spear, the ancient tech one he’d gotten from the last shrine. He lunged forward with it, driving the shaft forward with prejudice.

What did these people fucking want from him?

His sidestepped another swipe and shoved the spear into their side, and they wailed piercingly, convulsed, and vanished, leaving only a few drops of blood on the ground, their weapon, and a handful of rupees.

Link took a few seconds to calm down enough to lower his spear, panting more from adrenaline than exertion. He swallowed, then fell into a coughing fit.

“You’re alright,” Mipha soothed, stepping closer with slow, calm steps. “There’s little they can do against you, you’ve only been startled. You’re not hurt.”

Link nodded stiffly, and then, forcefully, deactivated the spear and put it on his back again. Straightened up. Nodded again, turned, and kept walking, much faster now, agitation in every line of his body despite his best efforts.

“Oh, Link,” Mipha murmured with obvious anxiety, and then fell in beside him.

There was a Korok puzzle on the cliff side further down the mountain, and the Korok’s laughter was an odd comfort. Even further down, there was a flower that he followed halfway to Rabia Plain.

He considered going the rest of the way – Garini had mentioned a pedestal there – but with a sigh, he turned away to continue on to the promenade. There was no guarantee Kass would be there, and Link didn’t know the riddle. It would be a waste of time without it.

Lanayru Promenade had been a grand construction of white stone and windows, and it was infested with monsters, the architecture broken beyond repair.

It looks like it was beautiful, Link commented mildly, and then picked out one of the powerful ancient weapons he’d gotten from the last guardian scout, downed a strength elixir in a few gulps, and muffled a short coughing fit into his elbow.

“You’re getting sick again,” Mipha murmured anxiously. Link shrugged.

Urbosa was the only one still conspicuously quiet. He tried not to worry about it.

There were plenty of silver monsters in the promenade, watching the path and camped out and even swimming in the water. Some of the jewelry they wore looked ancient, dulled by time, the gems chipped and sometimes missing. Link would guess that there was more under the water, sunken far below, where only a Zora could retrieve it.

It was well into the night by the time they reached the East Gate – Link had taken a detour to find a way behind the waterfall, helpfully provided by a tunnel into the cliff, because his shrine sensor had drawn his attention to the orange light reflecting off the lake. An old and half-shattered walkway had provided a path most of the way there and back, but he was still soaked – there were too many lizalfos to avoid it.

He walked to the East Gate. He peered through, looked at the scattered trees, the white lynel laying down to sleep, Mount Lanayru in the distance. Nothing happened. The back of his mind said, yes, here, but nothing happened.

He turned around and walked back, several yards down the path. Stopped. Turned around, checked the picture against the scenery, and nodded to himself. Yes. Here.

He walked to the gate again. He walked back.

“Link,” Daruk said, soft and sympathetic and worried.

He walked to the gate, put a hand on the old mossy stone, and peered through. Looked at the peppers just outside and inside the gate, picked a few, ate one without wincing at the spice.

Turned around, walked back, looked out over the promenade.

To the gate.

Yes, here.

Tears pricked at his eyes, and he wiped them away without acknowledging them.

“Do you want help,” Revali asked flatly. Link swallowed around a lump in his throat, and without looking back, he nodded. “This would have been the route you and Zelda took on your way to Mount Lanayru, the last place you went before the Calamity struck. You would have passed through this gate both going here and returning.”

He paused. Link didn’t dare move. He swallowed again, then coughed from deep in his chest. Revali sighed.

“All of us met you on the way back,” he said, and maybe he was going to say more, but those words hit Link like lightning. Before he could think, he snapped around, wide eyes fixing on the canyon from the gate, and-

(And Link remembered-)

(His mood and Zelda’s had both been low on the way back from Mount Lanayru, both of them dispirited by their latest failure. Link had wanted to cheer her up, but hadn’t known how.)

(The Champions were waiting for them at the gate; they’d sent word ahead by Rito messenger. All of them had been worried, hopeful, nearing desperate.)

(Daruk had asked how it went, and Zelda had shaken her head. Revali had pressed, and Zelda had apologized. And they were all so disappointed.)

(Urbosa had urged them all to move along, and Mipha had started to propose an idea to help. And Link was so embarrassed, so pleased when he realized that Mipha was talking about him, that she thought of him when she healed, and he’d wondered if she’d say ‘Link’ or ‘my lover’ or maybe ‘my fiancé’-)

(And then the Calamity had struck, the malice so strong that they could feel the impact from so very far away, and with a few sharp words to brace themselves for battle, they had scattered.)

Link blinked, and his mouth formed a silent ‘oh’.

That must have been the last time they were all together, before everything had gone wrong. Before the Champions had died, Zelda been locked away, and Link…

“Did that actually work?” Revali demanded, and Link blinked again, licked his lips, and nodded. “Ridiculous. Completely absurd. What was it.”

Link was pretty sure Revali’s vocabulary only contained acerbic words. Made it hard to express genuine care. Link almost smiled, but he was still too shell-shocked, eyes fixed on the path ahead.

Everyone looked worried. Even Urbosa looked worried, tucked against a wall, expression pinched and arms tucked close to her stomach, almost as if she was hugging herself.

Why was I so sure we wouldn’t lose? was all he managed to say, instead of anything at all about the memory, about what had happened, what he’d remembered, the little details of Zelda’s slumped shoulders and clasped hands or the tears he’d watched her refuse to shed.

It seemed almost too ironic to have remembered that exact moment, reaping the harvest of the aftermath of their confidence – the Champions reduced to ghosts, Zelda gone, Link himself pacing back and forth grasping desperately for a shred of his former self.

“We were all sure,” Mipha said, quiet and solemn. Revali scoffed.

“No,” he said tightly. “The only ones who were sure were the children so young that they were certain of their own immortality, as all children are.” Mipha flinched. Revali exhaled harshly, turning his head away. “That said… I didn’t think it was likely.”

The words hung in the air. Link lowered his head, and Mipha did too, like chastised children. He lifted his hands, palm up, and studied them blankly, and it was almost a minute before he noticed.

The one coated palm to fingertips in yellow soul paint was at least three shades stronger.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you’re going to keep looking for memories?” Daruk asked, cutting casually through the same snow Link had to wade through. “You’ve been taking them pretty hard, little brother. You don’t need them if you don’t want them.”

Link shrugged, but Daruk kept looking at him expectantly. After a bit, Link relented. I’d rather learn something sad than be stuck not knowing.

Daruk chuckled. “I’ll admit, that does sound like you. You’ve always been insatiably curious.”

Link let the corners of his mouth twitch up, and then looked ahead again, trudging through the snow towards the mountain in the near distance. The morning sun cast a golden light over the white-capped woods, and even through the ruby circlet and the warm doublet, Link was threatening to shiver; he’d have to find something warmer. The cold made his skin ache. (Everything seemed to make his skin ache.)

There were chillshrooms growing by the path, and Link couldn’t resist veering back and forth to collect them, and the wildberries he found, the odd truffle and winterwing butterfly. It was a long way up, and he expected it would take all day, even if he pushed himself.

He coughed.

The road forward was paved in stone, with stairs cut into any incline that was remotely steep, but it was so overgrown and worn-down that it clearly hadn’t seen any use in years, probably decades – as long as that lynel had been guarding the entrance, Link expected. He detonated white chuchus with his bow and took down lizalfos with prejudice; about half of them had lizal weapons, and the rest had stolen and scavenged Hylian ones.

A third of the way up, Link stopped to rest, built a fire, and roasted some spicy peppers and the wild meat he’d gotten on the way up.

“Are you still cold?” Mipha asked with concern, ever attentive. Link shrugged, coughing into his elbow a couple times.

He wasn’t cold, exactly. But his skin hurt, and he thought it would calm down if he was warmer, maybe. The heating magic in the peppers would probably help with that.

“Cold aggravates scar tissue,” Urbosa said, without looking at either of them. Her gaze was fixed somewhere in the distance down the mountain, her legs curled under her. “I imagine he’s responding to that.”

“I thought heat did,” Revali accused, as if someone had intentionally deceived him.

“I imagine there’s little that doesn’t aggravate scar tissue when it makes up half of all of your skin,” Urbosa replied flatly.

Link glanced at Urbosa. It wasn’t like her to be so subdued for so long. After a moment, he nodded reluctantly. It’s sore. Not as bad as a thunderstorm though.

“You should be able to get warmer clothing in Rito Village,” Revali said, deliberately unhurried and unconcerned. “Perhaps snowquill armor. It was popular among Hylian swordsmen in our day.”

Link smiled a little and nodded, then started eating through the clumsy skewer he’d made.

“Are you going to go up Death Mountain?” Daruk asked abruptly, more serious than Link was used to hearing from him. Link cocked his head, and Daruk scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I’ve been wondering about my kid. Igneous. Little tyke was never much of a warrior, but, well…”

Link softened. I’ll make sure I do, he promised, coughed, and continued, Will I need anything for the trip up?

“Fireproof elixir,” Daruk answered instantly, the relief in his voice betraying him. “You can get flamebreaker armor once you’re up, but fireproof elixir will get you there. Death Mountain runs too hot for Hylians to stand without help.”

Link nodded, making a mental note, and then adding it into his slate notes as well.

“…I never did thank you for letting me see Riju,” Urbosa said quietly. Link glanced at her fleetingly, and she smiled a little, her expression difficult to read but distinctly softer than usual. “She’s my niece – my sister succeeded me as chief, I expect. I was glad to see she was doing well. So thank you.”

Link considered her for a moment, unsure, and then dipped his head once.

He finished eating and stood up, brushed himself off, and kept going up the mountain, following the path carved into it. It didn’t ring familiar, but it was… odd, to know he’d walked up this way before, with Zelda.

(Everyone had been so disappointed that Zelda hadn’t unlocked her power, and it was the first point of connection that Link felt he could reach out and touch. He might not have known what that felt like then, but he did now.)

The sun passed slowly through the sky as they wound their way up, the silence exaggerated by the snow that seemed to muffle everything around them. Pillars of ice rose tall out of the ground, and Link collected monster parts as neatly as he could, tossing a few of the weaker lizal spears in favor of new weapons.

About ten yards from the top, Link stopped, a bolt of terror shooting down his spine, like he’d just looked a lynel in the eye. Everyone else stopped too. He looked up, but of course, the steep rock face blocked anything he might have seen, except perhaps a slight haze, too faint to make out. He hesitated.

“I’m looking ahead,” Revali said after a moment, and didn’t wait for a reply before he rose up with a flap, twisting through the air to search the ground. Less than a minute later, he was down again, expression set in a grim scowl. He looked Link in the eye, and Link was already bracing himself by the time he said, “If you’re not prepared to fight with prejudice, turn back now.”

Link hesitated, searching Revali’s eyes as if for information. There wasn’t a bit of give in his expression, and Link dropped his eyes to the ground, stomach twisting. He coughed into his arm, trying to think.

He could run away, if he wanted. He thought that this time, no one would even be mad at him. It was something about the set of Revali’s wings.

But Link was hurt, and scared, and tired. He was not a coward. And Revali had not said to run away.

Link looked up, nodded, and, with purpose, started forward again.

Revali sighed. “Draw your best bow,” he said, without any condemnation. Link obeyed.

The implacable feeling of terror magnified as he climbed the steps, an ominous ringing in the back of his head, but Link didn’t understand why until he arrived at the top.

There was a dragon curled around the peak of the mountain.

She was as beautiful as Farosh had been, glowing with a soft light, crystals sparkling down her spine and shards of ice like a mane on her head. She was draped across the mountain ice like a snake upon a tree, her clawed feet digging into the rock. And she was also, just as clearly, sick.

Link had seen malice swamp a few times before by now – far away in the coliseum, far closer in the Gerudo labyrinth. It explained the terror he’d felt on the way up; the grumbles and groans that malice made were the sounds of his nightmares, and he often knew it was around before he even consciously registered it.

He looked at the malice caked onto the dragon’s beautiful scales, the dust and smoke that puffed out of its mouth with each breath, the eyes staring back at Link from the points of infection, and he felt bile rise up his throat.

And at the dragon’s feet was the spring, the statue rising up and glowing with Hylia’s gentle light, exactly as he’d seen at the Spring of Courage.

“You have done well to find your way to this spring,” Hylia murmured to him, soft and understanding and solemn. “You who have overcome the trials and obtained the spirit orbs… the one you see before you is an attendant to the Spring of Wisdom. This is Naydra, the blue spirit of Lanayru.”

Every word had a weight Link could feel hang in the air. The world narrowed to the top of the mountain, blotting out the path up and the ocean on the far side and everything visible in the distance. The wind blew harshly, whipping around what little of his hair had pulled free. It whistled in Link’s ears and dried his throat, and he coughed again.

“This servant of the Goddess has looked over the spirits of the land for ages, unknown to the world of man,” Hylia continued softly. “However, the dreaded Malice unleashed by Calamity Ganon has possessed its body and reduced it to this state.”

Link swallowed, inhaled too quickly, and coughed again, chest shaking.

Hylia’s voice grew gentler, edged with supplication. “You who have received the spirit orbs… Free Naydra from this Malice. Show what your power can achieve!”

Link took a deep breath, drew a single arrow, and took aim.

“Ready when you are,” Revali murmured to him, and the rush of relief was so dizzying that Link almost missed.

He shot the first arrow into one of the enormous, glowing eyeballs embedded into the guardian spirit, and with a thin and wavering roar of pain, Naydra took off. Link grabbed his paraglider just in time for Revali to sweep him up, and he was after Naydra.

The first and the second eye were easy to take out, and Revali, who had more practice navigating in the air than Link did, was able to steer him past Naydra’s sweeping, flailing claws as long as Link followed him closely.

After the second boil burst, Naydra screamed in pain, the malice convulsing around her. She swept past him, fleeing in blind agony that made Link’s skin throb sympathetically. His fingers aching from holding onto the paraglider, he pressed forward in close pursuit, eyes focused on the dragon.

“She’s circling back!” Revali warned, and banked sharply in a way that slid Link neatly into a place where he could shoot a third malice eye off Naydra’s back.

His hands were numb with cold and stiff with strain. He missed.

Link snarled wordlessly in frustration, caught the paraglider again, and glanced at Revali, who uncharacteristically didn’t comment, just banked again to lead Link to another opening.

A sticky patch of malice swept within a foot of Link, and he turned sharply away. His breath was coming hard; his chest ached and his throat was sore.

He released the paraglider, turned, fired, and caught it again, and this time it hit the third malice eye dead center. Naydra wailed again.

Link couldn’t catch his breath. He couldn’t- he couldn’t bring his other hand up, his left hand twitching convulsively as it held his whole body weight. The paraglider began to veer sharply as he failed to balance it. The wind roared in his ears.

The ground was so far away. His shoulder screamed every time he tried to reach. His right shoulder was his worse one, and it didn’t want to stretch, and he was exhausted and he couldn't catch his breath.

“Link, what are you doing?” Revali demanded, loud enough to be clearly audible over the wind and Link’s pounding blood.

Link struggled for another breath, ignoring the scratchiness of his throat, slammed his bow back into his Sheikah slate, and looked up to make another grab for the handle. He missed, his fingertips barely brushing the smooth wood before his strength failed him. The paraglider dipped until it was perpendicular to the ground.

He was falling.

“Link!”

He couldn’t make out a single voice amid that cacophony. He just knew that he couldn’t let his friends down. He couldn’t-

Link heaved with a shout that was either effort or pain, dragged the paraglider closer, and caught the bar with his other hand. With a yank, he righted it, broke his fall, and only a couple of seconds later, he hit the ground tumbling.

Before he’d even stopped moving, Link was already crying and coughing violently, his fist locked onto his shoulder as if that would calm the spasms. He was still gasping, and for a few long moments, he didn’t even try to get up. His whole body jerked with every other breath, like he was trying to escape his skin, and his cheeks were wet, and he was coughing out as much as he was breathing in.

“Link!”

That one was Mipha, suddenly kneeling by his side, eyes wide and frantic.

“It’s alright,” a different voice said, and that was Urbosa, stern and calm and directed at him. “Just breathe, Link. You’re alright. Breathe and let the pain pass. You're alright.”

Link inhaled, long and hitching and cut with the beginnings of whines, and then let it out in a rush that was half a sob and broke into a coughing fit. Then he breathed in again, and everyone was there, leaning over him, like a shield from the world.

Link breathed out.

It took a few minutes for the spasms to ease enough for him to look up, and when he did, he noticed that Urbosa’s cheeks were glistening. Had she been crying?

Naydra bellowed in pain. Link pushed himself up to his knees, shivering, and craned his neck. Naydra was still in the snowfield with him, crashing and barreling against trees at random, trying to scrape off the last of the malice. Link’s skin crawled, and he had to force himself to let go of his throbbing shoulder.

I’m okay, he signed, trying to reassure himself as much as the others. He struggled unsteadily to his feet. I’m okay. Revali. Help?

Revali exhaled, somehow looking both dramatically put-upon and genuinely strained. “Only if you promise not to fall out of the sky like a nestling this time, little champion. You’re taking years off my life posthumously.”

Link let out a shaky laugh, wiping his eyes with his gloved hands, and nodded.

“Wipe that parasitic piece of shit off the planet, little guy,” Daruk encouraged, relief clear in the lines of his face and the slump of his shoulders.

Mipha met his eyes as soon as he looked at her, and exhaled shakily.

“Be careful,” she said insistently, and he took a deep breath, coughed a few times, and nodded.

Then he grabbed his paraglider, looked at Revali, and a breath later, he was in the air again, Revali twisting around him to lift him far above the trees.

The last malice eye was on the very tip of Naydra’s tail, and pulling back his bow was excruciating. But the last arrow hit true, and with a grunting, growled gasp, Naydra flexed and writhed, struggling against something unseen and unfelt. Then, with a final twist of her graceful body, Naydra broke free, shaking off the parasitic infection.

Then Naydra looked directly at him.

A push of her clawed feet sent Naydra flying towards him, and on some unfathomable instinct, instead of bolting, Link lifted his hand. When she changed course to pass just over his head, he caught one of her claws. It was cold enough to numb his hand.

But then he was flying at a rate far faster than he could ever achieve on his own, the wind lashing at his face, and he laughed and coughed and laughed again, and when Naydra passed over the Spring of Wisdom, he let go.

He crashed to the ground still giggling a little, punch-drunk and frightened and shaking, and in the next breath his friends were around him, varying degrees of exasperated or alarmed. Before any of them could speak, though, the soft light of the mother goddess lit up the statue again, and they all fell quiet.

Her voice was warm.

“Thanks to your efforts, Naydra, the spirit of Mount Lanayru, has been freed from the grips of an evil power,” Hylia murmured, heavy with gentle pride. Link pushed himself to his knees. “But a single ceremony remains. Now… Loose your arrow through the body of Naydra to free the spirit of this region!”

Link took a deep breath, drew his bow one last time, aimed at her muzzle and fired. Something bright and sparkling flew off, landing with a clatter on the grand platform.

“That is the spirit Naydra’s scale,” Hylia said, building in quiet intensity. “It fell when your arrow struck. It serves as proof of courage you have shown to the one who served the spring since ancient times. Come… offer the scale to the Spring of Wisdom.”

His whole body trembling from both the cold and the adrenaline, Link bent down to scoop the scale up, walked forward, and tossed it at the feet of the statue. It burst into a beautiful golden light, and the wall behind the goddess statue slid up.

He couldn’t see Hylia’s smile, but somehow he felt it anyway, and the corners of his mouth twitched up. “Your path has shown itself. Now go forth. You have done well.”

Link wasn’t sure why Urbosa had pulled him aside to speak alone, but she was intent enough on it that he’d gone along, climbing up to sit on the peak, shielded from the whistling wind by the ice pillars that surrounded it. He pressed his shoulder against one of them, sighing as it numbed the angry throbbing, and watched Urbosa.

Urbosa stayed standing. Her hair didn’t flicker in the wind. Her arms were crossed, her head tilted to look down at Link with solemn eyes.

For a long time they were both silent, and it wasn’t until Link broke into a short coughing fit that Urbosa sat down in front of him, folding her legs under her. Link cocked his head, and she sighed.

I’ve said it before, but I’m sorry for what I said in Hateno, she said carefully. I didn’t mean to make you feel like a burden. You’ve never been that.

Link cleared his throat uncomfortably. It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it.

But it still hurt, and I never should have said it, Urbosa said, and Link didn’t deny it. Urbosa softened. Zelda loved you. I wanted to make sure you know that. By the time the Calamity hit, I think you were her closest friend. And she would have been appalled to think that you owed her your pain.

Link turned over his hand to look at the transparent yellow overlay, and for a minute he was quiet and pensive.

I don’t think I would have been so upset if I didn’t agree with you, Link said at last, exhausted. He coughed. I want to do better too. For Zelda and for Mipha and for you and Revali and Daruk… and everyone. You’ve all done a lot for me, and I… He shrugged. All he’d done was fail.

We’re all in the same boat here, Urbosa signed calmly. She looked tired, too, almost defeated. And I don’t think I can describe how frightened we all were when you fell. It… forced me to realize that I can’t lose you, either. Link tilted his head, and Urbosa took a deep breath. For a hundred years it felt like Zelda was all I had left, and you were the only one who could help her. But losing you isn’t an acceptable price for getting her back. It never was. I’m sorry.

Link softened, and he didn’t know what he was feeling, but he thought it was some kind of relief. It’s okay. I know it’s been… difficult. And he really meant it this time. He met her eyes solemnly. You must miss Zelda a lot.

Urbosa’s breath hitched, startling him, and she nodded once, tightly.

That was probably why I was so angry, she admitted, and her breath hitched again. We didn’t know what condition you’d be in when you woke, and admitting that you couldn’t help her would be to admit… She wiped her eyes impatiently, and that was when Link realized she was starting to shed tears. That there was no way I could help her.

The first thin gasp wasn’t even a surprise, or the strangled, cut-off sob that followed. Link scooted closer, where he couldn’t touch her but could still be a comforting presence, and hummed, low and as soothing as he could make it.

He thought that right there, on the peak of Mount Lanayru, might have been the first time Urbosa cried in a hundred years or more.

Chapter Text

Law-maker Nayru, golden goddess of wisdom, I seek the composure of the water. To flow with the current of the world, to wear away at the challenges I face, and to adapt myself to what must be done.

Link prayed at the spring before he left, kneeling at the foot of the statue to silently recite the words Urbosa had taught him. It wasn’t necessary – Nayru was not his goddess the way Farore or Hylia were – but he wanted to be respectful; wisdom was something to be valued, too.

The others waited patiently, and finally, with a stretch, Link hopped out of the spring and started back down the mountain.

“Where to next?” Daruk asked, as carefree as if the past few days had never happened. Link rubbed his face, yawned, and broke into another short coughing fit. He was getting sick of them fast.

Shrine, Link answered absently, when he recovered. He paused to open up his slate and check the map, then put it away and continued, One of the villagers in Hateno found a letter in an old book, and it had a riddle in it. He considered, and then amended, It could be nothing. Or it could just be treasure. But it sounded like a shrine.

“Then let’s go look,” Urbosa agreed, and Link gave her a small smile. Mipha looked away.

It probably would have been faster to grab his paraglider and sail down, but after the close call the day before, Link didn’t really want to. He hiked instead, snacking freely on apples and peppers and berries, half-lost in thought.

When he found his hands empty for too long, he reached out without thinking and snagged some pebbles and ate those too. He didn’t even realize what he’d done until Mipha moaned in protest, and then he smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head under the circlet.

His gaze soon wandered again, though, looking out over the mountains sometimes, sometimes over the sea, and only looking down to watch his footing as he slid down slopes and clambered over piles of boulders.

“What’s on your mind, little brother?” Daruk prompted, after the third time Link nearly tripped on a rock in his distraction. Link shrugged, and then muffled a cough into his fist.

It’s beautiful, Link signed at last, eyes on the horizon of the misty sea. It had been different in Lurelin, different again in Hateno, but he was so high up here, and he could see so far.

Daruk softened. “That it is.”

There wasn’t much to gather on the barren rocks, but he picked some cool safflina, a few more wildberries, yet more chillshrooms. He headed toward the edge that seemed to be setting off his shrine sensor, and then got distracted and hopped on a smooth stump with an odd leaf pattern on it. When he heard a pop that he’d come to associate with Koroks, his head shot up, eyes wide.

There was a circle of lights in the near distance, and one of them was slowly dimming. When it went out, the second one dimmed too.

Before he could put any more thought into it, he hopped off, caught himself with his glider, and soared towards it. Revali let out a shriek of outrage behind him, but Link was intent on his prize.

He missed it by seconds, and hit the ground with a disappointed groan, putting the glider away again.

“Of all the reckless, foolish, impulse-driven…” Revali snarled under his breath, feathers ruffled, and Link ducked his head. “What if you had fallen?”

Link felt his cheeks flush with an unexpectedly pleased sort of embarrassment, and he tilted his head a little and smiled. I would have been okay. It wasn’t far, and there’s snow.

Revali snarled at him irritably, and then turned away, bad-tempered. Link resisted the urge to roll his eyes and started looking around. Urbosa had her hand over her eyes, and Mipha over her mouth, trying not to smile.

There was dawning realization on Daruk’s face, and then an odd softness.

Link found the cracked wall where the shrine was hidden, blew it up, and went in.

When he came out again, he blew up a couple of trees for wood, built a fire, and set a couple of skewers to cook, deciding to enjoy the view of the sea for a little longer. His skin prickled and ached, but it was easy to ignore, and the doublet and warming magic together with the fire kept him almost cozy.

He yawned, cutting off into a coughing fit, and suddenly Mipha’s eyes were on him.

“Why don’t you take a nap?” she suggested unexpectedly, as the fit eased. “You still seem tired, and you need rest more than anything, I think.” Link wrinkled his nose doubtfully, and she laughed. “Yeah, that was what you used to think, too. But you’ve always liked them. You just don’t like to admit it.”

Fondness coated her voice, making it so sweet Link could almost taste it, and he softened. He shrugged, suppressed another yawn, and conceded, Alright. Just a little while.

He pretended not to hear Revali’s exasperated grumble. “Child.”

As soon as they were done, Link munched down the skewers, and then, the fire still crackling away, sending smoke spiraling into the air, he laid down, put his head in his arms, and slipped off, quicker than he ever did at night.

A couple hours later, he woke up, stretched, and rolled over, accidentally meeting Urbosa’s eyes. He tilted his head, and she snorted softly.

“Where to?” she asked, quiet and expectant, and Link closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Thought about it. Then nodded decisively and sat up, drawing the others’ attention.

He beckoned them over, snorting in amusement when Mipha pointedly edged Urbosa aside, and opened his map. He tapped the shrine by Kakariko, then Rabia Plain, and then the marker where he’d indicated another tower. There was still no guarantee Kass would be there, but at least this time it wasn’t so out of his way.

Mipha leaned closer, phasing through his shoulder a little, to peer at the map. She smiled. “Zora’s Domain should be in that region.”

Link gave her a small smile and a silent nod. He’d visit.

With a few more quick motions, he warped to Kakariko, paused to reorient himself, and took off down the road again, past Cotera and onward. After a while, he swapped the ruby circlet for the diamond, but he kept the doublet on; it was warm, and he liked it.

There was a traveler sitting by a fire, in plain sight by a grove, but the sight made Link’s stomach twist uncomfortably. He gave them a wide berth and cast his gaze over the plain instead, coughing into his fist. There was plenty of good hunting, and a forest with a clear pond and plenty of mushrooms and insects; he spent a while darting around gathering things as he found them, and then pricked up his ears as he caught music. Apparently Kass was here after all.

Link signaled Daruk, the most likely to see him, and then scampered off, ignoring the man’s quiet chuckle. It took a while to track Kass by sound, but eventually he found the Rito bard seated on a low rock platform, playing to himself contentedly.

Kass spotted him while he was still on his way; it probably wasn’t difficult on the flat plain. He stopped playing and waved, and then waited patiently while Link caught up to him, trying not to bounce on his toes at the prospect of another riddle.

“Good afternoon, traveler,” Kass greeted with a small smile, setting his accordion on his lap. “I was wondering if I’d be lucky enough to encounter you here. What brings you?”

Link pointed, and Kass looked over his shoulder and hummed in interest as his eyes landed on the large tower.

“I see,” Kass mused. “Then it was luck after all that brought us together here.”

His gaze dropped; he wasn’t being honest. Link cocked his head, but deliberately chose not to push it. (The triforce on the back of his hand grew brighter with every shrine he completed. It wouldn’t be a secret forever, who he was.)

“I know a song about this place,” Kass said, already lifting his instrument again. Link smiled at him, and Kass’ demeanor warmed noticeably. “Would you like to hear it?”

Before he even completed the question, Link was nodding, his head turning to examine their surroundings thoughtfully. Nothing really stood out, aside from the pedestal nearby, but there were plenty of wooded areas, that water hole… His thought process broke off into another coughing fit, and it took a minute to settle down, the tightness in his chest not wanting to ease.

Kass played.

It was a sweet song, Link thought – legend called one of the heroes a child of the forest, and it was about that. About the wildlife one found in the forest, the frogs and the crickets, beetles and birds, squirrels and flowers and mushrooms and trees, nearly all referenced in metaphor. There was a refrain, but Link knew by the second repetition that wasn’t it; it was just about the hero’s upbringing, the quiet of the forest, the camouflage, the caution.

Link tilted his head slowly, identifying the single verse that was most likely to hold the hint. When Kass finished, looking at him with an oddly eager light in his eye, Link was too lost in thought to do much more than sign quickly, Verse seven.

Confusion passed briefly over Kass’ face, followed a minute later by clarity, and without questioning it, he played the seventh verse again. Link nodded to himself.

A beast that wears a crown of bone/Prancing through the lush green/Mount the beast upon its throne/For only then the shrine is seen.

The use of shrine was a dead giveaway, but what about the rest of it?

Link paced back and forth for a few minutes, frowning, eyes roaming the plains speculatively. He coughed into his elbow again. There wasn’t anything that would clearly constitute a throne, but maybe the tall rock formation? No, the priority would be identifying the beast, and that might help Link figure out the meaning of throne. Crown of bone…

His gaze settled on a mountain buck in the distance, and in a flash of memory, he thought of Zelda. Zelda had been the one to tell him that deer antlers were made of bone.

Deer antlers were made of bone.

Link smiled.

“Amazing,” Kass said softly, setting his accordion down again and clearly settling in to watch Link work. Link darted into the trees and behind the landmark, and by the time the others caught up to him, he was most of the way into his Sheikah clothing, just tying up his hair with the sharply-pointed hairsticks.

“I suppose stealth is a woodland skill,” Urbosa murmured when she saw him, soft and thoughtful. Link hummed, rising to his feet and looking around again, sharp and eager. “But what is it? The only thing I could think of was…”

She trailed off; Link had already picked out a target and was creeping toward it, eyes fixed and bright. Revali scoffed, incredulous.

“The skills Hylia requires of her champion continue to be both unending and arbitrary,” he muttered, and if Link weren’t so focused he would have laughed. As it was, he was too busy picking his way forward, cursing the movement of the grass.

“It’s perfect for him, you have to admit,” Mipha murmured, fond eyes tracking Link’s progress.

It took the better part of an hour for Link to approach the buck, moving just a little at a time and stopped every time it startled. He kept his eyes low and his movements unthreatening, and his friends stayed hushed behind him, letting him work. The Sheikah mask muffled his coughs, when he couldn’t hold them back, and the tight clothes made it easier to keep his movements deliberate.

When he was about halfway there, he went for his slate and took out a couple different treats – some apples, some berries, some Hyrule herb and radish greens. Carefully, he tossed an apple towards it, and its eyes fixed on the treat. Link held back a hum of pleasure.

It took a few minutes to eat the apple, and Link waited patiently. As soon as it was done, he tossed a radish, coaxing it closer. Then half of another apple.

Finally, at the end of the hour, he crumpled the Hyrule herb into a ball and offered it up, nestled in the curve of his hand. The deer, eager for its newest treat, ate it right out of the palm of his hand. Link cooed, delighted, and it didn’t startle.

Slowly and deliberately, Link stroked its muzzle, gentle but firm. Then its neck, and he eased himself to his feet- slowly, slowly. He ran his hand over its muscled shoulder. Then its flank. When it finished the herb, he offered it another, and its tongue lapped at his palm.

He considered the next step for a moment. The deer was still standing, and hopping on its back all at once would certainly startle it. But there was the rock formation.

Firmly, he grasped the base of one antler, fed it another half-apple, and led it. It walked meekly with him, slow, steady steps, and Link caught a glimpse of Revali shaking his head, looking vaguely offended by Link’s entire existence.

When they finally reached the rock platform, Link eased himself up, still holding onto the deer, and then, even more carefully, stretched out and settled himself astride the deer.

That startled it, and it bucked a few times. He kept his firm grip on its antler, and a few strokes along its broad neck pacified it.

Pleased, Link tugged gently and squeezed his knees together, as if the deer was a horse. It walked obediently forward, and he had to hold down another noise of joy. He was riding a deer. He was riding a wild buck.

He lifted his head, searched for Kass and the shrine pedestal, and urged the buck in that direction.

Kass opened and closed his beak a few times as Link approached.

“Dear Goddess,” Kass said at last, with unrestrained amazement. “That never would have even occurred to me.”

Link hummed, pleased with himself, guided the buck onto the pedestal, and watched the shrine pull itself out of the ground.

The river was wide enough that Link ended up backtracking, following the coast until he could find a better place to cross. He did swap his amber earrings for his opal, though, and braced himself to swim.

It was almost night by the time he found the shallow wetland, but to Link’s own surprise, he wasn’t particularly tired; the nap earlier must have braced him. He picked his way down, selectively using his paraglider to manage the bigger falls, and cast a measuring eye over the area. There were at least two shrines, shining brightly amid the swampy marsh-

And there was a guardian, scampering around freely, enormous eye roving back and forth mechanically.

He would have thought that, given the recovery time that he’d had, given the tests of strength and the circlet he wore and how much comfort he’d learned to draw from his companions, his reaction to an actual guardian might have dulled.

It had not.

Link wheezed weakly, his chest suddenly caught in a vice, and pressed himself back, scrambling well out of sight. He pressed his hand over his mouth, muffling any sound, and curled in on himself, folding like a wet leaf.

“Oh, hell,” Revali said, with a more apparent measure of sympathetic frustration than he’d ever held before. Tears stung Link’s eyes, threatening to fall, and he started coughing and couldn’t stop.

“It didn’t see you,” Urbosa said, very calmly. “You’re safe. It’s not coming here. You’re alright.” Link nodded stiffly, but didn’t actually unfold, trembling in a very small ball. He missed the sharp look Mipha shot Urbosa, trying to calm his coughing fit. “Breathe. Everything is okay.”

It took a few minutes for Link to recover enough to sign, and when he did, it was just a shaky, I don’t want to be here anymore.

“That’s one of your options,” Urbosa said agreeably, and there was a catch in her voice that made Link look up, unsure.

“You can warp away,” Daruk clarified, his deep voice a steady comfort that made Link unwind by inches, eyes on the Goron. “You can ask one of us to keep an eye on that thing and help you steer far around. You can come back from another direction entirely.”

He paused, clearly trying to come up with more, but Link took a deep breath, coughed again, and nodded stiffly.

Two, Link managed. The second. Need to…

He waved vaguely, indicating the shrines he’d noticed and the tower now far behind him, and Daruk softened a little, giving him a small grin.

“Revali, you mind being scout?” he asked, and Revali sighed.

“If I must,” he said resignedly, and that was all the protest he made before he took off in a flap of his wings, purposeful and smooth. Link kept his eyes flickering between Revali and the guardian as he eased his way down.

He just had to focus. Focus and steer far, far around.

Other than that, the wetlands weren’t difficult to traverse; the water came partway up Link’s calves, and the mud sucked at his boots when he walked. There were lizalfos everywhere, but every one of them was weak, and he’d picked up good weapons on Mount Lanayru. He looked over his shoulder every few seconds, tracking Revali's location and the guardian's by extension, and forced himself to breathe.

The near shrine was easy enough, and he passed through the ruins of a village on his way to the second, a stark reminder of everything that had happened. He tried not to linger, but he found himself drawn to the crushed lumber of the buildings, glancing inside at the rotted bedframes and hollowed-out bookshelves.

It was around the second that a voice called out to him, and he glanced up at the sky, finding Revali – far, far away, at the moment, far enough that some of the tension eased out of Link’s shoulders – before he turned toward it in question. Mipha made a soft sound of surprise.

It was a Zora, only their head and one arm poking out of the water, waving for Link’s attention. He tilted his head, and then went to kneel in front of them.

“I apologize for calling out so unexpectedly!” the Zora began, his eyes intent and focused on Link. Link nodded and coughed into his fist, waiting patiently for him to go on. “The matter is most urgent, and you are the first Hylian I have seen pass this way so armed. Might I have a moment of your time?” Link nodded again, and the Zora flashed him a small, sharp-toothed smile. “Thank you!”

He went on to introduce himself as Ledo, and explain that Prince Sidon – Mipha gasped softly – was seeking out a Hylian to help with something vitally important, and Link would surely be rewarded if he went, and Ledo would be ever so grateful-

Link knew even before Ledo finished that he would agree, and he nodded, getting to his feet and grimacing a little at the stickiness of mud and brackish water. Ledo smiled at him.

“Then I hope to see you in the domain,” he said firmly, and swam off.

Link looked around, finding Revali first – still marking the guardian’s location, still far enough away to make Link breathe easier – and then marking out a route somewhere towards the tower.

“Up to it, little brother?” Daruk asked, with a touch of gentleness.

Link shrugged, resisting the urge to kick at the water as he waded through. I’m not going to run away, he said. He coughed. At the very least I can hear them out, and…

He pursed his lips. He didn’t want to say that they weren’t likely to find a stronger Hylian than him – perhaps Oliff could help, if he came by – but the truth was the truth, and Hyrule had long since been decimated. The possibilities were few and far between.

Daruk nodded his understanding anyway, and Mipha exhaled, slow and relieved.

“Thank you,” she said, quiet and sincere, and Link gave her a small smile and a nod.

Chapter Text

Link felt the shift in the atmosphere before he reached the rain, clenching his jaw against the faint and throbbing ache that only deepened as he pressed forward. Mipha noticed, because of course she did, her fist going to her mouth and anxiety in her eyes. Link gave her a small, weary smile and a shrug. He was fine. It would be worth it to see if he could be of help.

There was another Zora outside the next shrine he found, but they didn’t really have any more information. And there was a monster camp at the foot of the tower, but they weren’t exactly difficult to get through either.

“Sidon is my little brother,” Mipha said, leaning over to look down at the figure on the bridge. Her expression was soft and difficult to read; Link imagined that her emotions were complicated at best. “I- well, I’ve considered checking on him over the years, but…”

Link tilted his head, and Urbosa, on his other side, explained quietly, “It was easier to stay with you and wait. To be able to watch things changing, and yet unable to affect them in any way…” She waved her hand, melancholy. “We weren’t even entirely sure you would be able to see us, but at least, in the meantime, you were as much in limbo as we were.”

Mipha gave Urbosa a dirty look, and Urbosa looked away quickly, clearly uncomfortable. Link tilted his head, confused. What was that about?

But when neither of them did anything else, he nodded his understanding, gave Mipha a small, reassuring smile, and hopped over the edge, sailing down in a tight curve to try and land on the nearer edge.

Sidon apparently saw him coming, because he was moving to meet Link before he even reached the bridge, waving to attract his attention. Link waved back once to show that he had it, taking his time walking over, glancing up and down the river thoughtfully to measure out the area.

The two siblings had the same bright red color to their scales. Sidon was larger than Mipha by what felt like an order of magnitude, and Mipha wore slightly more ornate decorations. They had the same smile too, Link realized, except Sidon’s exposed more of his shark-sharp teeth. And the soul paint- for the first time, Link really understood what the others meant by 'painted.' There wasn't a patch of natural red on his hands or shoulders, and there were more marks on his arms, his tail, a few on his face that must be from family. His stomach, his back.

There was one in particular that stood out, a gorgeous seafoam that matched the new-old one on Link's cheek almost exactly, that made up a long and loving stroke down Sidon's tail. Mipha.

“Greetings!” Sidon said cheerfully, looking oddly eager. “Hello! You are a Hylian, are you not? I am ever so glad to see you!”

Mipha gasped softly, and Link glanced at her, faintly questioning. She just shook her head, gesturing to Sidon, and smiling so widely she looked like she might cry from it.

“He knows sign,” was all she murmured to him, high and emotional.

Link was concerned, but he’d have to talk to her about it later. He redirected his attention to Sidon, who grinned and continued,

“I have been watching you work! You seem to conduct yourself with strength and caution. Are you a warrior of skill among your people?” Link shrugged and nodded. Sidon beamed. “That is most excellent! For you see, we have found ourselves in a bit of a bind…”

Link listened as Sidon earnestly explained the problem, though he couldn’t hide the flicker of apprehension when Sidon mentioned Vah Ruta. He knew for certain that he still wasn’t ready to take on a Divine Beast, not really. Nowhere near.

But Sidon, for all his booming voice and cheer, was very serious about this. And Mipha looked to be brimming with anxiety. When Sidon finally wound down, Link nodded.

I’ll help, he promised, pausing to cough into his wrist. Sidon beamed again, relief shining through his expression.

That is most excellent! he signed back without missing a beat, his sign somehow precisely as boisterous as his voice had been. May I ask your name?

L-i-n-k, Link spelled out, and then, in a burst of memory, Signed ‘honey nut’.

Honey nut! Sidon returned cheerfully, and then looked briefly pensive. It seems familiar… But regardless, it is a good, strong name! I am certain that you will perform wondrously. He gestured. The path to Zora’s Domain is that way. I’m afraid that we have had very few visitors of late, as the path is guarded by many monsters, and our warriors have not had time to clear it for trade when we are so concerned about Vah Ruta.

The sign he used for Vah Ruta was similar to the one for Vah Naboris – a ‘V’, a fist sliding down, then an R and a T. Link wondered if there was maybe another divine beast named with an R.

I can make it through, Link assured Sidon, though his arms and trunk twinged just at the thought. If it rained here constantly… He hid a grimace and coughed again.

Thank you kindly! Sidon said happily. And then, almost as an afterthought, Here! This should help you with your journey. It was made specifically for Hylians, so it should work very well.

He produced a yellow elixir from somewhere and offered it to Link, who accepted it with a small smile. Sidon beamed back.

“I will scout ahead and meet you upriver! Good luck, Link!”

Link followed him with his eyes as he swam away, cutting through the water with ease, and then looked questioningly at Mipha, who swallowed and laughed a little, wiping her face.

“He’s grown up,” Mipha said, looking soul-wrenchingly happy about the fact. She rubbed one forearm, looking wistfully up the river as she added, “Sidon couldn’t speak as a child, much like you – far past the age where Zora normally learn, you understand. I- well, we weren’t sure he ever would.”

Link hummed, surprised. He’s so talkative.

“He is, isn’t he?” she laughed, wiping at her eyes with her fingers again. “I’m sorry, it’s just- been a long time. And he seems so sweet, and earnest, and…” She laughed again, sitting down on the bridge as if to catch her breath. “Oh, goodness, I’m sorry. I’m so happy to see him again.”

Link sat down too, crossing his legs and giving her a small smile. Urbosa sat next, a respectful distance away and a wary eye on the lizalfos threatening to approach. Then Daruk, leaning casually back on a pillar, looking wistful, maybe even forlorn. Link reminded himself to make certain he visited Goron City and found Daruk’s family.

Revali was… difficult to read, his head low. But Link would try for him too.

Did you know that was one of the first things we bonded over? Mipha asked, switching to sign, maybe because her voice had become so tremulous. I was so uncertain about how well he would get along if he never learned. But I met you, and even before you ever got the Sheikah slate, you managed so well. You were so comfortable with yourself. And for the first time I knew he’d be fine no matter what.

Link tilted his head to weigh that in his mind, examining it from different angles as if that would reveal more than what Mipha had said, and coughed into his elbow, grimacing at the tickle of his throat. Did we get along? he asked at last, curious. Mipha laughed a little.

You loved him, she said honestly, fondness in every line of her body. You thought he was adorable and charming. But he got so cranky when we were together. I have no idea why. I’m pretty sure you thought that was adorable too, though.

Link laughed, surprised, but Revali broke in at that point, dry and even a little terse. “Perhaps it would be better to continue on the road. It’s some way to Zora’s Domain.”

Humming in reluctant agreement, Link rose to his feet and doubled back to the shrine on the other end of the bridge. By the time he came out again, dressed in armor and topaz earrings instead of opal, Mipha had composed herself, waiting for him with a pretty, patient smile.

How are you feeling? Mipha asked almost as soon as he hit the bridge, moving closer as if to look him over. She could read him entirely too well, and the thought almost made Link smile fondly.

I’m alright, he signed, and when Mipha didn’t relent, admitted, The rain and the armor together is painful, but I’m not sure I can afford to go without it. Hopefully I’ll get used to the weight.

It wasn’t as bad as Faron, but his skin felt twisted and tight, and Link knew he had less than an hour before it started to really strain his tolerance. Every cough jerked his torso and arms; the weight of the claymore he had out now pulled at his shoulders. In this weather, a spear might be easier on him, but he didn't want to take any chances.

Mipha’s lips pursed, and after a moment she just nodded.

“I’ll go on ahead,” Urbosa said, and then she was off, exploring the route ahead. Link cocked his head curiously, and then glanced over and was even more surprised to find Mipha’s expression pinched with displeasure.

“You’ve gotta forgive her sooner or later, Mipha,” Daruk said, not without sympathy. “She cracked the ore, sure, and the fracture ran deep, but she’s doing her part to patch things up.”

Mipha exhaled, looking… Link almost wanted to say she looked sullen. “I… yes, I know. It’s just that…” She trailed off.

“You’re upset,” Daruk agreed gently. “You’re under a lot of stress too, and that rumble in Hateno hit you near as hard as it did Link. But she apologized. Link’s forgiven her, and they’re getting along again. It’s time to move on to the next lode.”

Mipha opened her mouth, mulish, and then closed it again with a sigh. “I know,” she murmured, defeated, and perhaps deciding he wouldn’t get any further, Daruk left it alone.

“Why don’t you tell Link more about your brother?” he suggested. “I’m sure he’d be happy to hear it.”

Link made a show of perking up, and something about Mipha’s wet laugh said she hadn’t fallen for it, but she started talking anyway. He coughed into his hand, listened, and made his slow way up the path, kneeling down every few minutes to pick mushrooms and herbs.

There was a crashed wagon not far up the path, and a few traveler’s weapons laying around a monster camp. The lizalfos had been easy for Link to take down, but not everyone was good with a sword.

Mipha was talking about Sidon’s bad habit of wandering out of the domain unsupervised when the man in question called out, oblivious. She paused, looking over with a fond smile, and Link went to crouch by the river, smiling faintly.

Sidon grinned at him toothily. “Hello! I’m ever so glad to see you here. I… realize that I was somewhat presumptuous in pressuring you to come, so I was worried you would change your mind. But you were merely taking your time, yes?”

Link nodded, holding out a silent shroom in demonstration. Sidon made a noise of comprehension and nodded cheerfully.

“Very good! I see you are resourceful. If you come across any shock arrows, make sure to pick them up! They will come in handy later.”

Link cocked his head curiously, but nodded, and Sidon waved at him and then swam away again, apparently satisfied.

The moon was rising high in the sky by now. Link forged on, picking his way up the path. Took a detour when the path was blocked by brambles, and paused to gather some herbs and mushrooms, even finding a radish or two to dig up. He yawned almost as much as he coughed.

Urbosa was waiting over a ridge, arms crossed, and she avoided Mipha’s gaze and met Link’s.

“There’s a lizalfos camp up ahead,” she warned. “They’re armed with shock arrows, for the most part. You could go around if you chose.”

Link hummed, and then shook his head. He flicked through his slate, found the phrenic bow he’d picked up some time ago, and then downed a stealth elixir. Urbosa smiled, and Revali smirked at him.

“I do believe they won’t even know what hit them,” Revali said.

It took well over an hour for Link to take down the camp, beast by beast. He aimed for the fragile horns and fired rapidly, and they fell, one by one, most of them not even having the chance to realize they’d been hit.

His shoulder was starting to feel like it was on fire though, all the way down to his navel in awful bolts of electricity. Before long he had to take a breather between each target, burying his fingers into the mud and gritting his teeth against the burn. He held back a gasp of pain every time he coughed, and wished his chest would clear.

“Oh, for the love of the divine mother, use your other arm,” Revali snapped eventually, and Link gave his bow a blank look, because that hadn’t even occurred to him. He shifted his grip so that his right hand aimed and his left drew back the bow, and found that his aim was just as steady – maybe even steadier, since it didn’t hurt nearly as much. Revali exhaled. “Thank you.”

He took down the rest of the camp like that, quickly adapting to the new posture, and then went through and butchered them roughly, smashed open the crates, even grabbed a royal bow from the middle of the camp.

Then he sat down and coughed until he could barely breathe, leaning over and wincing, elbows on his knees. His head spun a little with exhaustion.

I need a break, he signed at last, resignedly, and pushed his wet hair out of his face. Mipha gave him a soft smile and gestured.

“If you can face one more lizalfos, there’s a cooking pot and an overhang over that way,” she said quietly, and he coughed, nodded, and stood up.

It was a black lizalfos, a bit harder to take down, but he took it by surprise and with prejudice, and within another few minutes he was curled up by a lit pot, tossing ingredients inside haphazardly.

He made a bowl of soup, and then another, and then a third. Some seafood-fried rice, a mushroom omelet, some mushroom rice balls.

“Ah, there you are!”

Link looked up and found Sidon grinning down at him, leaning around the corner. Sidon hopped down from the overhang and padded over, flopping down seemingly without concern to regard Link. The others, though they could not touch him, moved to make room anyway, and Mipha, tucked against Daruk as if for comfort, looked like she could cry from happiness again.

“You seemed to be taking a while to cross the river again, so I became concerned,” Sidon explained, leaning over to look inside the pot. “However, I see that there was no need for it! I wasn’t expecting you to dispose of the entire camp, but you have done so quite handily. I have to say I’m impressed!”

He grinned at Link, bright and sparkling, and Link chuckled softly, tucked the plate of rice balls into the Sheikah slate, and got out enough ingredients for two helpings of creamy heart soup. He glanced up to Sidon to ask if he liked it, but frowned when he saw Sidon’s startled expression.

“That device by your knee…” Sidon murmured, and looked at Link more closely, up and down and then in the eye again, and then he signed honey nut, and then his mouth fell open. “My goodness! Link! I knew I remembered that name from somewhere.”

Link scooted back uncomfortably and started cutting up ingredients, hunched in on himself. Sidon didn’t seem discouraged by this.

“Why, it’s been such a long time!” Sidon exclaimed, and only seemed to lose a little of his momentum as he continued, “I’m afraid I am only familiar with the barest essence of what happened, but… well, suffice to say I am thrilled to see you alright. I see you have lost none of your skill in the intervening years!”

Hylia, did Sidon really used to be nonverbal?

Link shrugged, smiling in a way that was more uncomfortable than not, and Sidon seemed to pick up on this.

“Is something the matter?” Sidon asked, concerned. “I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable. I am simply very surprised and quite delighted!”

Link’s smile eased, and he set the knife and vegetables down to sign, It’s fine, you haven’t done anything wrong. But I don’t remember much from before I woke up. I’m sorry.

Sidon’s face fell, and Link looked away, coughed into his elbow, and picked the knife up again, switching from radishes to voltfruit. “Oh…” Sidon seemed lost for words for a brief moment, eyes round with worry, but he rallied quicker than Link would’ve expected. “That is quite alright! That is to say, I assure you I hold no ill will about it, only perhaps some concern. I myself don’t remember very much from our previous acquaintance either. I was quite young, you see.”

He faltered then, clearly trying to articulate one thing in particular. Link softened a little, tossed the voltfruit into the pot, and signed, I do remember Mipha. Not very much. But some.

A relieved smile broke out across Sidon’s face, wide enough to sparkle. “Excellent! That is wonderful to know. Now, it seems to me that you have stopped to rest for the night. I apologize for not considering the late hour! I was simply eager to return to the domain. Since it was I who requested you take this route, I will stay with you until morning!”

Link hummed, tossing in the hydromelon before setting the knife down again. You don’t have to, if you’d prefer to return to the domain for the night. But I’m making creamy heart soup if you want some.

Sidon grinned at him, bright and gleaming. “That would be wonderful!”

Link slipped in and out of consciousness through the night, rolling over and shoving his face into his arm and coughing. For once, it had little to do with nightmares – though there were some of those as well – and more to do with the bone-deep ache in his body, the sense-memory of his skin pulling away, one mixing into the other and making it hard to tell when one ended and the next began.

Mipha hadn’t looked away from Sidon since he’d joined them, but at some point during the night she was kneeling by Link again, her voice a low and comforting hum that always made Link settle at least a little. At least twice she reached out to him, her fingers passing through his head where she’d tried to hold it.

Night turned into dawn and then early morning, and Link knew he should probably get up but he just didn’t want to. He turned his face into his arm, pressing his cheek into the cold metal, coughed harshly, and tried to drop off again.

He knew when Sidon woke up because almost as soon as he did, he was leaning over Link, eyes wide and concerned.

“Link?” Sidon asked, softer than Link would’ve thought him capable of. “Are you unwell?”

Link grunted into his arm and struggled to keep it from turning into a moan. Being in the armor and the rain overnight had not improved his body’s condition any, and it definitely hadn’t made it easier to get used to. After a while, though, he pushed himself up, leaned against the wall, and signed, Sore.

Sidon brightened, sudden comprehension of the situation seeming to please him. Ah, I see! Yes, many old Zora warriors become miserable in the rain as well. I believe I know where to find some ralis root nearby, and… He softened a little. I learned how to prepare it, in memory of my sister. Would you like me to fetch some?

Link glanced at Mipha, who seemed torn between beaming at Sidon and continuing to look worried. It was kind of funny.

Daruk was nodding, brow furrowed with worry, and Urbosa gestured. Link sighed.

Please, he said meekly, trying to shove down his embarrassment. He knew pain didn’t stop him from being able to work, he’d proven that to himself a few times over already. He just… didn’t want to hurt. Constant pain was exhausting.

Apparently unbothered, Sidon grinned at him and climbed to his feet. “Then I will be back shortly!”

He took off at a brisk jog, and Link sighed again, leaning his head back against the rock wall. There were a couple of moments of silence, and then he coughed.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were actually getting worse,” Revali muttered.

“It does seem so, doesn’t it?” Mipha said ruefully, and before Link could react, continued, “It’s an unfortunate part of the recovery process.” She met his eyes, speaking to him instead of Revali. “It’s probably exaggerated by the amnesia, but trauma takes time to process. As you accept each part of it, you allow it to get close to you in order to process it. You have to feel the pain before you can heal it.”

Link felt vulnerable again and he abruptly realized that goddess, he hated feeling vulnerable. But that’s battlesickness. It’s not… He gestured to himself, his lingering sickness and his body hunching against the pain and him, and then leaned forward to light the fire to try and escape the discomfort.

“It is, actually,” Mipha corrected gently. “The state of your mind is closely connected to the state of your body. Extreme stress can make you more likely to get sick, and make it harder to recover as well. And, well… the things that can affect pain, especially pain like this, are too many to count.”

Link sighed, curling up as he finished and tucking his face against his armored knees. I love you, he signed thoughtlessly, eyes closed.

They were all quiet for a few more minutes, and Link let his attention drift again until he heard footsteps. When he looked up, it was Sidon with a handful of roots, which he waved at Link when he noticed him looking.

“Only a few more minutes, my friend!” he said cheerfully, kneeling by the lit pot. He started working, plucking off clusters of nubs to toss into the pot. “I’m afraid it will take most of the day to reach Zora’s Domain by the foot path, but perhaps you will feel better if you’re able to sleep in a warm place tonight. If not, I’m certain the healers can take a look!”

Link hummed softly, and Sidon looked up, expectant.

A couple already have, Link signed. It’s alright. I just need to be more attentive with regular care.

Stretching was too painful to even contemplate some days, and he didn’t really like using the salve. He always felt at least a little better, but it was… It felt a little like admitting defeat.

Much like this did.

Sidon hummed his understanding, and then asked, “Do you, perchance, have a small bowl I could borrow?”

Link gave him one, and Sidon used it to scoop the lightly roasted ralis root out of the cooking pot, then offered it back to Link with a smile. Link took the bowl, stared at the small cluster of pods for a moment, thought about the way every movement rippled through him like a stone in a pond, and closed his eyes, tipped it into his mouth, and swallowed.

It tasted, Link thought, like something between ice and ozone, and left a light grit from the dirt Sidon had taken it from. He rubbed his tongue against the roof of his mouth for a moment, coughed a couple times, and then looked at Sidon and nodded. Thank you.

“Of course!” Sidon agreed cheerfully. “I will stay here until you’re ready to go, and then I’ll continue along the river, yes?”

Link nodded, curling up again and setting his cheek on one knee.

It was a few minutes before it started to work, but the tension was starting to unwind from Link’s shoulders before he’d even realized it had. It didn’t wipe the shooting aches away completely, but it lessened them, dulling the sensations until Link felt like he could at least get to his feet without biting down sounds. The complete reversal of sensation was nearly dizzying, his tense muscles loosening in increments.

Finally, he stood, slow and careful, tested his limbs a little, and sighed in relief.

He didn’t feel good. But he felt. Better.

Thank you, he repeated more earnestly. Sidon beamed.

“But of course! I will meet you up the river then, my friend. Worry not, I am certain you will do wonderfully! I believe in your strength!”

He darted away again, and Link almost chuckled before he turned and started moving, rolling his shoulders a little to loosen them up.

I do like your brother, he said to Mipha, and earned a beam in return.

Chapter Text

Zora’s Domain was beautiful.

Link actually paused to admire it for a minute, leaning heavily against a pillar to watch the waterfall and the arches of the bridge and the sparkling, bright-lit architecture beyond. It wasn’t quite a city, it was too consolidated for that, but it was more than big enough.

He was aching again, coughing every couple of minutes, but he was here, not even much worse for the wear.

The others gave him a few minutes’ rest before Daruk encouraged, “Go on, brother,” and he sighed and did, letting his gaze wander as he ambled down the long bridge.

Sidon met him at the end, beaming. “My friend, you’ve arrived! That is excellent, truly excellent – now, I know it has been quite a long day, but would it trouble you awfully to meet with the king before you retire? I would prefer to explain the situation in its entirety as soon as possible.”

Link nodded indulgently and followed him on at an easy pace, which had to mean that Sidon felt like he was accompanying a particularly sluggish snail.

“Master Link!”

Link faltered and glanced over inquisitively, and Sidon stopped, chuckling softly. One of the guards was staring owlishly at Link, blinking wide eyes like he was trying to dispel an illusion.

“Link, it’s me, Rivan!” the guard said eagerly. “My, it has been so very long!” He paused. “Do you not remember me? We used to play together.”

Link had to keep himself from stepping sharply back, uncomfortable. Sidon quickly intervened. “Rivan, my friend, you know what the road up to the domain is like. I’m afraid Link is quite exhausted, and we have business yet this evening.”

“And for goodness’ sake, Father, we’re on duty,” the other guard added, exasperated. Rivan chuckled guiltily.

“Quite right, my apologies. I did not mean to interrupt, sire, Master Link. By all means, continue on your business.”

Sidon laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “Worry not! It is not every day one encounters an old friend.” He looked at Link and beckoned, and after a moment, Link tore his eyes away from Rivan and followed again, avoiding Rivan’s gaze to cough into his wrist. Sidon softened. “Yes, to my knowledge you made many friends among your age group when you were here before. Most of them remember you quite fondly.”

What an odd thought.

Mipha made a soft, startled sound and Link instinctively looked over, eyes easily locking onto what had caught her attention: an enormous and beautiful statue of herself, towering over the central plaza. Mipha’s hand was covering her mouth, and her eyes were brimming with tears.

“Good,” Daruk said, quiet and decisive, and clapped Mipha on the shoulder.

Link hesitated, eyes on her, but ultimately turned back to Sidon and his understanding smile to follow him further up the curved staircase. The rain came down in sheets, soaking everyone through, but Sidon looked tall and unbothered, and Link’s friends all looked dry as bone.

There was an elderly Zora at the top of the steps, reaching out to touch a shock arrow, gritting his teeth against the obvious pain for a few minutes, and then flinching back with a gasp. Sidon silently urged Link away, but Link barely noticed, sidling over curiously. He hummed to try and catch the Zora’s attention, and then, when he didn’t seem to here, grunted loudly.

The Zora glanced up with an irritated expression that quickly turned to rage. Shock arrow forgotten, he rounded on Link and bared his razor teeth.

“You!” he snarled, and Link took a startled step back. “I’d know your accursed face anywhere! If my body weren’t decrepit, boy, I’d-”

“Seggin!” Sidon said sharply, making the elderly Zora shut his mouth. He softened almost instantly, speaking in a gentler tone as he continued, “Link is here as a guest. He may be able to help us with Vah Ruta.”

“Humph!” Seggin sneered, and turned back to the shock arrow.

Sidon silently indicated for Link to follow him, and this time Link did, shuffling and unsure, glancing back at Seggin as he tried to hold onto the shock arrow again.

“I’m sorry, Link,” Sidon said, something heavy in his expression. “The older generation of Zora soldiers miss my sister very dearly. I understand that you did all you could against the Calamity, but the elders are not so forgiving.”

Link’s breath hitched, forcing a cough out of him, and he looked over his shoulder with new understanding.

“Oh,” Mipha murmured, voice catching, and when he glanced over she looked overwhelmed, reaching up to rub at her eyes again. Daruk placed an enormous steadying hand around her shoulders, and even Revali bent his head.

“Of course you were missed, you foolish girl,” he sniped lightly, without looking at her. “Look how much you did for the warriors of your time.”

Mipha rubbed at her eyes again, harder, and it was only reluctantly that Link turned away, catching up with Sidon as he started to climb the steps towards, Link assumed, the throne room.

The Zora king was a very, very large man, with a few deep, healed scratches on his forehead and easily as many ornate decorations as Mipha had. He was already looking at them as they entered, expectant, and Link dropped his gaze, thinking of Seggin’s accusing look. Instead of speaking, though, he dropped to one knee as soon as he judged he was close enough, and lowered his head, cheeks burning.

Inconveniently, he also coughed a couple of times, the tickle refusing to leave his throat.

“Father,” Sidon said, clear and formal, “I’ve located a Hylian warrior who is willing to aid us.”

“So I see,” the king rumbled, leaning over to peer at Link. “Rise, little Hylian. Why, is that you, Link?”

“Impossible,” the man at the king’s other knee hissed, and then gasped in outrage as Link rose to his feet, lifting his eyes to the king’s despite how badly he wanted to keep them averted.

The king was smiling gently, so perhaps he was more like his son than not. “So it is. Perhaps the rumors that you had fallen in battle were exaggerated.” The calculating gleam in his eyes indicated he didn’t believe that for a moment. “Has my son explained to you what we require?”

Link shook his head, and then turned just a little to watch the others as they caught up. Daruk was still hovering over Mipha like a concerned mother hen, Mipha sniffling and beaming up at her father. Revali was doing his very best to look bored, and Urbosa had her arms crossed and her head turned away, clearly weary.

King Dorephan gave him the basic rundown of what they needed from him, and it was almost enough to make Link’s knees fold in relief, because it sounded perfectly manageable. He didn’t need to go at the beast with a sword, didn’t need to find his own way through the water, didn’t even really need to focus overmuch on evading any attacks.

He needed to hold onto Sidon, and shoot some shock arrows. He could do that.

“But there is one oddity in all this,” Dorephan said at last, and Link cocked his head. “Why is it that you do not seem to recognize me, Link? You spent many months in the domain as a boy, and we have spoken many times before. But there is no recognition in your eyes.”

The flat-headed Zora at his knee sneered. “It is because he never cared for any of us, and indeed put us out of his mind as soon as he was gone, just as we should have done of him.”

Link shuffled back a little, uncomfortable, but Mipha, oddly, laughed, shaking her head roughly. “Muzu…” she murmured, both affection and regret coating her voice, and then didn’t say anything else.

Even though Daruk was right there, doing his best to provide comfort, Link was hit by a pang of secondhand loneliness. Mipha seemed so small, among the people who had loved her once, loved her still, and could not see her right in front of them. He almost wished he could tell them, except he was sure that it would be cruel.

I lost my memory in the shrine that healed my injuries, he said at last, a little belatedly. Dorephan leaned back, frowning, to consider that, and then nodded.

“But surely you at least remember my daughter Mipha?” the king prompted, with more concern than Link would have expected from someone that theoretically had not known about their relationship.

Some, Link said, unsure of how to even begin to explain. He knew her, he’d woken up and met her all over again, but he knew so little of what had come before, even now that the lines had begun to blur. Not everything. Not even a lot.

Dorephan’s expression grew heavier and more solemn, but he was prevented from saying anything else by Muzu’s loud scoff. “To be expected from such a careless and apathetic Hylian! Sire, we do not need this… this farce of a warrior, I tell you, Seggin is making excellent progress with his resistance training.”

Link’s stomach twisted, and Mipha made a high, pained sound.

“I didn’t want-” she started, and quickly cut herself off, aghast. Link dearly wanted to look over, to check on her, but he didn’t dare look away.

“I’m sure he knows,” Revali said, quiet but tight. “And I am equally sure that he thinks that you are too generous. After all, he’s not precisely wrong.” There was a touch of humor in his voice toward the end.

“I should have told him,” she mumbled. “I should have made him understand. He would have listened to me in the end.”

“You thought you had time,” Daruk said gently. “It seemed a good choice at the time.”

“Muzu, Link is our guest!” Sidon was insisting, stress and concern briefly overtaking his expression, which eventually drew Link’s attention back to them. “He will be of wonderful help to us, I am certain! There is no reason to be rude!” Muzu sniffed, and Sidon sighed and turned toward Link. “I apologize for not being able to give you this in private, but there is something my sister would want you to have… and it will come in handy for our mission.”

With that, Sidon trotted off to disappear somewhere behind his father, and Dorephan smiled faintly, leaning back in his enormous throne.

“You look well,” he said. “Mipha would have been glad to see you so.” Muzu scoffed again, and Dorephan ignored him. “Perhaps not all is lost after all. Tell me, Link- do you intend to approach the Calamity again?”

Link resisted the urge to step back, but he did drop his gaze, a sharp chill running down his spine like an ice chuchu.

Eventually, he signed after a moment, and coughed again. Not yet. I’m… not well.

“Ah,” Dorephan said softly. “Injuries not visible to the eye, perhaps?”

There was too much sympathy in his voice, and Link squirmed. Muzu scoffed again, loudly. “If he failed so miserably the first time, I don’t see why he should succeed the second.”

Link’s stomach turned again, so harshly that it manifested a physical nausea, but before he could make any attempt to reply, Sidon returned, trotting forward with something in his arms. Muzu gasped, and Sidon offered his burden to Link – a pretty, scale-armor tunic typical of Zora-made armor, reinforced in a few spots by sturdy metal. Behind him, Mipha let out a soft, squeaky ‘oh.’

Link reached out to accept it, brow furrowed, because this had significance, this was, this was-

(Link remembered-)

(Mipha had taken his measurements in her bedroom, flitting between him and a notebook with her tape measure in hand, glowing with excitement. Link had been excited, too, and he’d squirmed when Mipha tried to measure his shoulders.)

(“Stop moving,” Mipha had scolded without heat, more of a giggle in her voice than anything, and he’d smiled sheepishly and held himself still.)

(She’d gone to note down the numbers, paused, set the tape measure down and sighed happily. “I’ve wanted to make this for you for so long,” she’d said wistfully. “I’ll have to hide it from my father, I’m afraid – he’ll know the truth as soon as he sees it.”)

(If you want- Link had started to say, and Mipha put a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him gently.)

(“I know, love,” she said tenderly. “But my father is a traditionalist at heart, and he’ll want you to join me in Zora’s Domain as soon as he knows. It’s alright. Let’s stay secret just a little longer, okay?”)

Link came back to himself with the feeling of Sidon affirming Link’s grip on the armor, pushing it toward him insistently. Link blinked, and then pulled it against himself, clutching it to his chest, looking up at the much taller Zora.

“Sire, you cannot be serious!” Muzu snapped, bristling. “This is an insult! That armor is meant only for the beloved of the princess, it is one of our oldest traditions- you cannot truly intend to break it for this, this wretch, this knave! And the armor made by Mipha, of all the princesses in your line…”

“Muzu,” Dorephan said reproachfully, and Muzu shut his mouth, still shaking with anger. “I understand your grief, but do not forget your place. Mipha was the daughter of my blood, my heir, and my firstborn. It was I who corralled Vah Ruta into the reservoir and I who ordered her figure put into stone and I who told Prince Sidon stories of her so that he would never forget his sister. Did you not consider that her family may know something that you were never told?”

Muzu’s face scrunched up. Mipha was crying again, and Link couldn’t tell whether the tears were joy or grief, and it was possible it didn’t matter.

“Link,” Dorephan said, without room for argument. “Please, indulge me. Go into the next room and don the armor Sidon has given you. This is something that Muzu will have to see with his own eyes.”

“I’m sorry about Muzu,” Mipha said, sitting by Link as he finally, finally stripped the armor off and laid down, wincing and muffling a few coughs into his arm. “He’s known me since I was a very young child, you see, so I suppose…”

Link managed a small smile for her. It’s alright. How are you doing? It must have been ages since you were able to see your family.

Mipha laughed a little, reaching up to caress the end of her tail, and nodded. “Far too long,” she said wistfully. “They look well. And Sidon has grown up so wonderfully from the child he was.” He sighed. “I suppose Vah Ruta acting up must have brought me to the forefront of their minds.”

She sounded sad. Link waited until she looked up again, and then signed gently, Do you miss Vah Ruta?

She laughed again, twisting the end of her tail around her fingers. “Is it odd to say I do? Becoming her pilot felt like meeting an old friend. It… well, I’m sad to see her used like this.” Her voice quieted a little. “Thank you for agreeing to put her to rights. I know you didn’t want this yet.”

Link sighed, bringing up his arm to rub his cheek into the crook of it. Of course. I understand time is… very short. On impulse, he reached for his slate, retrieved the Zora armor, and spread it out under his hands, where he could run his hands over it. For a couple more minutes, he just did that, and then paused to sign, I remembered something, earlier. He tapped the armor. I remembered you measuring me for this. You said you’d have to hide it from your father.

When he glanced up, bringing up his hand to stifle another cough, Mipha was smiling at him, sad and tender.

“You were always very open to compromise,” she murmured. “If you ever thought I was unsure, you would remind me that we could tell people at any time.”

Link didn’t smile, still running his fingers across the textured scale armor, oddly entranced. Mipha had made this for him, a hundred years ago. Mipha had made this for him, and her father must have found it in her rooms somewhere, and he’d known what it was and who she made it for and he’d approved. He’d kept it, and when Sidon met Link, he’d thought of the armor.

Mipha had made this for him, threading together cloth and metal and spellwork and a few scales that he was sure were hers. The texture made him think of her, but it was rougher, harder. It flowed gorgeously when he wormed one hand inside and hefted it, like chainmail.

“Link?” Mipha questioned, quiet and concerned. He hummed vaguely without looking up. “You seem… elsewhere.”

Link looked up at her, kneeling beside him as if leaning on the bed, and was briefly thankful that the others had chosen to give them privacy.

I love you, he signed at last, solemn. She inhaled sharply, dropping her gaze in a vulnerable enough move that he continued. I know I said it earlier, and I know I probably said it many times a long time ago. But. I thought you should know it’s still true.

Mipha smiled at him, bright and broken, and reached up to wipe her eyes before she replied. I don’t think that’s exactly to your benefit these days, the situation being as it is. You don’t… have to…

She faltered before she could finish the thought, and he grunted, giving her a small, tired smile.

I think we’ve worked out by now that nothing has happened like it was supposed to, he said. He coughed. I meant what I said about not having time to worry about kissing. I don’t need anyone else, and I won’t until after the Calamity is gone. We can worry about it then, okay?

She laughed a little, nodded, and wiped her eyes again. Okay. I love you too. I have all this time.

Link found himself smiling again, faint and dreamy and vaguely infatuated, and knew that he’d worn this expression many times before. I know.

Chapter Text

“Normally you would do this for the first time with my sister,” Sidon said apologetically, sinking deep enough in the water that Link could throw his arms around Sidon’s shoulders. “I thought that the least I could do was to offer my assistance in her stead.”

Link grunted his gratitude, turning his head to watch Mipha beam at them, and just had time to flash her a quick smile before they were flying up the waterfall.

Climbing a waterfall, Sidon had explained, was two parts innate Zora magic and one part acrobatics. The armor would provide the Zora magic, but Link needed to do the maneuvering himself.

He could feel the magic, the water swirling and parting around them to boost Sidon’s climb instead of hindering it. It was Sidon that kept them steady, though, tension like what Link used to steer in the air keeping his path straight and focused, his fins all twitching in little increments whenever they started to veer.

They burst out of the top as if from a geyser, and Sidon twisted and plunged back down into the water, laughing gleefully. He cut through the water to the edge, nudged Link off, and turned to grin at him. “Now you try.” Long stripes of mid-toned green had been left running down his back and over his shoulders. Surprised, Link wondered what color Sidon's marks on him were. Had they really never touched before?

Link leaned back, muffling a coughing fit into his arm, and mulled the last few minutes over in his mind. Then he looked over the edge of the waterfall, nodded, and leapt off to dive into the water below.

It took the better part of an hour to get to the point where he could manage it consistently, at which point Sidon gave him a bright smile and promised to meet him at the plaza in the afternoon; he, of course, had his own preparations to make.

Link nodded and waved, and then changed into his Sheikah armor, because all of his friends looked so horrified by the idea of him even attempting to approach the lynel.

Not that he was too thrilled at the prospect himself.

He could hear the lynel’s heavy footsteps long before he got into view. There were a few shock arrows along the path – not enough, because Sidon had suggested twenty and that meant Link wouldn’t be satisfied until he had thirty or forty – but Link’s first goal was something else.

He’d promised Laflat that he’d take a picture of the lynel.

“Goddess save us from her own reckless hero,” Revali muttered behind him, and Link smiled, crept up, and found the lynel, lifting his slate to take a quick, frame-perfect picture of the beast.

There was a shrine in the middle of Zora’s Domain, and a goddess statue one level above. It was by the goddess statue that Sidon found him, dropping to one knee to beam at him.

Link didn’t look up right away, still letting the newest blessings settle and trying to find the right thoughts to express gratitude, but eventually he twisted to sit and look up at Sidon. His hair was braided (and wet), and he was wearing the Zora armor and greaves, and both the diamond circlet and opal earrings as well.

“You look perfectly prepared!” Sidon exclaimed, delighted. “Have you eaten, my friend? You should never go into battle on an empty stomach.”

Link nodded. Careful thought had led him to choose food with a heavy stamina boost, glazed fish and carrots, perfectly suited as the precursor to a fight like this. Are we going right away?

“The early bird catches the fish!” Sidon said cheerfully. “Though of course, we could wait for a later hour if you have preparations yet to complete.”

Link shook his head, rising to his feet, and coughed. Now is fine, I have everything I need. What’s the plan?

Sidon explained as they walked to the East Reservoir, where Vah Ruta was contained. Link’s friends were already there – it would be difficult to follow him closely in such a fast-paced and mobile battle, but they could watch. Mipha in particular, he knew, was anxious, probably as much bemoaning her inability to help Sidon as Link.

As they reached the end of the dock, Sidon turned, dropped to one knee, and clasped Link’s hand, wearing a broad and encouraging smile.

“You have nothing to fear from Vah Ruta,” he said, with complete conviction. “I believe in you! Are you ready, my friend?”

Link took a deep breath, squeezed Sidon’s hand, and nodded, forcing down the cough that wanted to escape. His best bow was the royal he’d gotten from the lizalfos camp, already strapped to his back, and he had close to fifty shock arrows if he needed them, the quick-access set so that they were the first thing he drew when he tapped his slate the right way.

No melee weapon, no shield. If he needed a melee weapon out on the water, he was already in much worse shape than a boko club could get him out of.

“Then onto my back you go,” Sidon said resolutely, and without any further discussion, Link took hold of his shoulder and pulled himself up. He patted Sidon’s shoulder when he was ready, and Sidon twisted and dove into the water, swimming at speed almost as soon as he was in. “Hold on to my tail, my friend! I may be unstoppable in the water, but it is quite vital that you not fall off! Worry not – we will defeat Vah Ruta in no time at all!”

Link found himself smiling against Sidon’s tail, holding on tightly as Sidon jetted through the reservoir, heading unerringly towards Vah Ruta. It started to stir awake as they approached, a vast and hulking beast of mechanisms and strange lights and spinning parts.

He did his best to keep track of all the moving parts as they shot by, but it was Sidon who spotted the incoming attack first and shouted for Link’s attention. “Ice! Can you dispose of that, dear friend?”

Link grunted an affirmation and almost reached for his supply of bomb arrows, then reconsidered. The pattern on the ice blocks was familiar.

He reached for his Sheikah slate and tore it off his hip, swatted blindly at it to bring up Cryonis, and then lifted it high enough to look through. Sure enough, viewed through the Cryonis rune, the blocks lit up pink.

He blew them up one after the other, and Sidon laughed, veering to make a pass at Vah Ruta as Link hastily stuck the slate back on his hip. “Well done! Well done! Brace yourself, we are nearly there!”

Link managed to get into position just as Sidon passed by the waterfall. As soon as he was in reach, he jumped, letting the magic Mipha wove into the fabric carry him up the falls, only his own weak kicks to supplement it.

It was freezing cold, and Link gritted his teeth against it.

He burst from the top like a cork from a bottle, and his arms moved as if on their own; in the space of a second, he had a shock arrow drawn, nocked, and fired, and the pink light of one of Ruta’s enormous knobs flickered and dimmed. Link just had time to secure the bow back on before he plunged feet-first into the frigid water.

Before he had time to do more than splutter and kick, Sidon was there, and Link pulled himself onto his back, coughing harshly into Sidon’s tail until it became apparent that he was struggling to stop.

“Are you well?” Sidon asked at a shout, and Link grunted a vague affirmative, and then coughed a few more times, clearing his chest. Eventually he caught his breath and patted Sidon’s tail roughly, and Sidon let out a whoop. “Very good! And just in time, too! Incoming!”

Link’s scarring was already starting to tighten in protest, but without hesitation he grabbed for his slate again and set to blowing up the incoming ice rounds, now with a few menacingly spiked globes thrown in. Two of them he barely caught in time, craning around and around to try and watch all angles.

They spent the better part of an hour like that, until even Sidon was beginning to tire, though he never slowed down and never stopped shouting encouragements. Two of the knobs were completely dead and null, and the third had nearly joined them, only a shot or two left. Twice Link had missed entirely, shaking hands and a tight throat and the inescapable throb of his dominant shoulder. He was clinging so harshly to Sidon’s tail that it had to hurt.

His breath wanted to hitch in his chest, and exhaustion dragged at his body. He thumbed Sidon’s tail firmly, and felt the Zora man take a deep breath to brace himself before he veered toward Vah Ruta.

Vah Ruta bellowed, and at the last minute Sidon had to cut away, because while Link was busy readying his bow, Ruta had fired another volley of ice masses at them. Sidon’s dodge was so sharp that he threw up a wave of water, and it crashed over both of them. If they hadn’t been soaked already, they would have been then.

For Sidon, this wasn’t a problem; he breathed water as easily as he did air. Link, caught by surprise in a bad way, took a faceful of water, swallowed half of it, and spent the next several minutes clutching onto Sidon, hacking and gasping while Sidon shouted frantic apologies.

Link wheezed, tried to cough, wheezed again in a panicked struggle for air, his heart racing and his focus narrowing to just his grip on Sidon and his spasming throat, and missed the next few attacks by a mile. Sidon managed to dodge two of the spiked orbs; the third hit them dead on, bowling Sidon over and tipping them both under, the spikes tearing into them and spilling blood out into the water.

He shut his mouth as soon as he realized where he was, but that still left him spinning aimlessly under the water, already starved for air and deep gauges carved into his side. His heart fluttered in his throat.

Inexplicably, he thought of Mipha, so clearly that he could hear her voice in his ear. “You’ll be okay, Link. Please be okay.”

Only a few moments later, arms folded around him, bringing him effortlessly up to the surface, and the next thing Link knew, Sidon was holding him up out of the water, murmuring reassurances and apologies, Vah Ruta a relatively safe distance from the both of them.

After a couple seconds of gasping and panting, Link registered that his airways were clear. He wasn’t shivering, though the water was rapidly sapping the warmth from his body. The gashes he’d felt ripping into his side were gone.

He’d been healed, and something deeper than his heart knew it had been Mipha.

When he felt that he could, Link reached up and tugged weakly at Sidon’s tail, and Sidon blinked at him, jarred out of his trance. “Are you quite certain?” Link took a couple more rapid breaths and nodded. Sidon beamed at him, a little softer than his usual blinding enthusiasm, and it was only in the hitch of Sidon’s breath that Link noticed the wounds still bleeding freely along Sidon’s flank. “Then let us finish our foe in earnest!”

Link managed a cheerful, abbreviated grunt, and then hauled himself onto Sidon’s back again.

Despite Sidon’s protests, he was the one who was treated first, half a dozen Zora doctors fretting and worrying and busying themselves around the four long, deep wounds carved into his stomach.

Link, now thoroughly exhausted, was fully prepared to slip off quietly and fall into the bed he’d rented at the inn, but one of the younger Zora doctors eventually found him and led him to another bed in the infirmary. Briskly, she made him sit, checked him over thoroughly for injuries, and told him in a no-nonsense tone to change into dry clothing before bustling off again.

He managed it up until he had to pull the new shirt over his head, when the stretch of his chest and shoulder made him gasp and shudder with something more than cold. He abandoned the task instantly and curled up under the covers instead. No one was looking at him anyway; there were no appearances to maintain.

None, except-

No, he signed one-handed, without even trying to get up, face burrowed miserably into the pillow, his breath shallow and quick. The adrenaline was wearing off fast, leaving him to feel the consequences of the day’s activity.

Mipha sighed softly, not a hint of exasperation in the sound, just concern. “Link-”

D-o-n-e, Link signed stubbornly, and Mipha sighed again.

“Thank you,” was what she settled on, quiet and earnest, and Link felt like an asshole. Enough of one to move? Maybe.

Sidon was still arguing with the medics. Link coughed, and something about it was different from the dry coughs he’d been making before, wetter and deeper and starting to tip over into painful.

“I’ll sit with him,” Daruk murmured to Mipha, steadying. “You check on your brother.”

Mipha wavered for a few moments, and then knelt by Link and promised, “I’ll be back as soon as I’m certain Sidon’s alright,” before vanishing, presumably reappearing near Sidon.

Link grunted in belated acknowledgement, shifted his weight a little, and swallowed a yelp as he felt the movement tear through his whole body like fire. His fingers twitched and clenched as he fought for control, and it felt like it took an eternity for his frayed nerves to calm down again.

It was different from rain; Link knew without asking that this was overexertion and cold and an hour of powering through by dint of adrenaline and tunnel-vision focus. And he just wanted to go to sleep and wake up when his body had calmed down again.

“What’s going through your mind, little brother?” Daruk asked, softer than Link would’ve thought his voice went.

H-u-r-t-s, Link signed petulantly, because the sign for it would’ve meant moving his shoulders. And then, because he’d used that word so often lately that it had all but lost its meaning, C-r-y.

“Mipha needs to try again,” Revali said almost before he was done, voice oddly tight.

“You’re turning soft, peacock,” Urbosa murmured to him, and then she settled at Link’s back, opposite from Daruk, and said just as quietly, “Try to sleep. It will pass, exactly as it always has before.”

Link exhaled shakily and managed a nod.

S-i-d-o-n, he spelled, wanting to know if the other was alright.

“Halfway healed already,” Daruk reassured him. “Keeps trying to squirm to get a better look at you, and I think he’s tried to get up once or twice, but the docs are pretty insistent.”

Link grunted, only managing to parse about half of that, and tried to force himself to unwind. He mostly failed.

The Zora doctor returned then, the one that had attended to him before, and her frown softened almost as soon as she took him in.

“Sidon says you choked on some water out there,” she said, indicating the objects she held – the hollow, delicate shells of two sneaky river snails, sanded down and tied together by some kind of wire. “Hylian respiratory systems are quite fragile, so I want to listen to your breathing and see if anything’s amiss.”

She reached down to urge him upright, and Link had to force himself not to whimper. He cooperated though, dizzy and resigned, and let her coax him into a sitting position and listen to his breathing for a minute, holding one shell against his chest and the other against her ear, under the protective fin. She told him to breathe deeply, and then frowned deeper at whatever she heard.

The expression dissolved almost instantly when he let it out, broken and rushed and half a cry, and brisk sympathy took its place.

“You should stay here overnight for observation,” she said. “Your breathing… well, it’s been a while since I treated a Hylian, but it didn’t sound good. Try to sleep. You look like you need the rest.”

“Please, Nimo, you healed me with your own experienced hands, you know very well I’m fine- thank you very much, you’ve done wonderfully, I would like to check on my friend now!”

Both of them looked up at the sound of Sidon’s subtly stressed voice. It looked like the doctors had finished with Sidon, and he was now hurrying over to Link with clear worry on his face, dogged by a few stragglers.

He dropped down to kneel in front of them, eyes large with concern, and asked the doctor, “What has been done for him? He seems to be in significant pain.”

The doctor shrugged wearily. “He’s not hurt- I’m keeping him here overnight in case of complications, and made sure he got into dry clothing, but I’m not sure how much else can be done, with our supplies perpetually low…”

“Link has done us Zora a great service, Yeta,” Sidon said, too gently for how intense his expression was. “I think that the very least we can do for him is offer some relief, don’t you agree?”

“…Yes, of course,” Yeta said meekly, and hurried off.

Sidon took her place immediately, helping support Link while Link blinked up at him dumbly, struggling to put thoughts together through the electricity wracking his skin.

Thanks, Link said at last, well aware he wasn’t completely following.

“Of course,” Sidon murmured. “Have I told you enough yet that your performance was superb? I couldn’t have done it better myself, really, I don’t believe Father adequately emphasized what a brilliant marksman you are, it was truly a sight to behold-”

Sidon kept that up, compliments and soothing words and encouragement, all the way until Yeta returned, holding Link upright as Link gave up supporting himself and shivered against him, somehow feeling cold through all of the… everything else.

“Minish seed, thank you, Yeta, that’s perfect,” Sidon said warmly, and then coaxed Link into swallowing it, and then some water. Link forgot what he’d said as soon as he’d said it, just felt the seed sliding down his throat and then wondered when he’d started clinging onto Sidon again, and why it was so comforting that Sidon was holding him back.

Things seemed to settle and slow after that, the bustling activity of the infirmary coming to a halt while Sidon waited with Link. Link tried to focus on anything but his ripping, tearing skin- the sound of the waterfalls, the kind boom of Sidon’s voice, the feeling of Sidon’s skin under his hands. Sidon made it easy, continuing to heap praise on Link’s performance against Vah Ruta, and then further back, talking about the battles he’d watched Link fight on his way to the domain. Link was only half-listening, the words blurring in and out of focus, but it was enough to make him feel small and pleased.

The pain dropped away in increments, small and almost unnoticeable, until Link finally realized that he’d melted against Sidon, dizzy with relief. His flayed skin faded to a faint ache that could just as easily be his imagination, far away and unimportant.

Sidon, oddly, didn’t move, seemingly content to let Link curl against him. He even allowed Link to pull up one of his hands and press it to his cheek, suddenly fascinated by the texture of Sidon’s skin. Link cooed softly, and Sidon chuckled.

Link finally felt warm again.

“Let’s get your shirt on, my friend,” Sidon murmured, and Link let himself be gently manhandled into the tunic that had been set aside. He couldn’t stop himself from pulling a face when his arm was pushed up, but then it was over and he was collapsed against Sidon again, cheek on his arm. “You did need this, didn’t you? Consider it a rest well-earned. Worry not, Link. I have nowhere to be this evening.”

Mipha was in front of Link now, and he blinked at her in confusion, unsure of when she’d gotten there. He smiled at her, though, faint and silly, and she let out what seemed to be a sigh of relief.

“He’s better,” she said with conviction, sitting back.

“Thank the goddess,” Daruk sighed, leaning back on his hands. “Kid needs to take better care of himself. Thought he was a goner there for a minute.”

“Yes, I could have sworn he was badly injured in that crash,” Revali said, with an edge of suspicion. “Mipha, you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“That was me, yes,” Mipha said plainly. “I’m not sure what allowed it to work, but… I felt it as soon as he called. Somewhere in his heart, he asked for help. I think… I think perhaps that was it.”

“And a good thing he did,” Urbosa murmured. “That was a fright we all could have done without.”

Link hummed, turned, and squirmed closer to Sidon, rubbing his cheek against his chest like a cat. Sidon laughed and let him, just reaching down with one hand to hold him upright, and for no reason at all, Link giggled, too.

Chapter Text

Link didn’t notice when he fell asleep, and he might not have noticed when he woke up, either, except as soon as he did, he was coughing, and he couldn’t stop, and it ached deep in his chest.

He ended up with mucus in the palm of his hand, collapsed back down against the bed, breathing quick and shallow. He felt dizzy, and feverish, and he knew before he even tuned in to his surroundings that he was sick again. His head pounded faintly, and when he tried to take a deep breath, he didn’t quite manage it.

The pain in the rest of his body had fallen to more normal levels, but his head was fuzzy, his face scrunched in displeasure, and without thinking he wriggled out from under the blankets; he was too hot.

“Link? Are you alright?”

Link rolled over to face the questioner and found Mipha, sitting beside him like always. He let his head loll against his elbow and grunted, “Ugh!” and watched Mipha suppress a giggle.

The impulse seemed to fade quickly, though, and she said, “You look flushed. Do you feel feverish? Are you still in pain? Are you breathing alright?”

“Ugh!” Link repeated emphatically, and burrowed his face under his arm instead of on top of it. And then, reluctantly, Yes. Yes. Yes-no.

When it reached him, Mipha’s voice was heavy with sympathy. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. We’ll remind you to catch a doctor’s attention first thing in the morning, okay?”

Link grunted, not taking his head out from under his arm, where it was shielded from the lights of the soft-glowing Zora’s Domain. M-i-p-h-a. OK? He drew the question mark into the sheets instead of lifting his head, and heard Mipha make a soft, affectionate sound.

“I’m doing just fine, Link. I was so relieved to see you and Sidon both pull through so well. The both of you performed above and beyond what anyone could have expected of you. I'll look around and check on all my old friends while you sleep, okay?”

Link relaxed a little, sighing into the tiny space his face occupied, and listened as his friends started to talk amongst themselves.

“He was planning to go to Akkala next, I believe,” Mipha was telling someone. “For the Great Fairy there, remember? But I do hope he stays in Zora’s Domain for some time.”

“Well, they haven’t exactly been friendly,” Daruk said gently. “He needs his rest, though, so maybe he’ll travel slow, stay in the area.”

“Because he’s so good at resting,” Mipha murmured, and Daruk laughed, loud and booming.

“And how about your little brother, huh?” Daruk prompted. “He seems like a damn good kid. Anyone would be proud to call him kin.”

“Wouldn’t they?” Mipha gushed, instantly and audibly glowing, and that was enough to set her chattering. Link slipped off again with a smile on his face, listening to Mipha fawn over her little brother.

He didn’t wake again for several hours; the sun had risen by the time he opened his eyes, and immediately he rolled to hide his face under his arm again.

His chest ached, a spasm of pain shooting through him every time he took a breath. He couldn’t seem to get quite enough air, and despite having discarded the blankets halfway through the night, he was soaked in sweat.

In conclusion: he felt awful, and he wanted to go back to sleep.

He whined, pitchy and frustrated, and pushed himself to his elbows with a grimace. The glittering light of Zora's Domain was enough to make him nauseous, and he felt too foggy to be able to figure out where the noises of activity were coming from. As soon as he was trying to get upright, though, Yeta was there, eying him with some calculation before nodding to herself.

“Alright, let's see if you're doing any better,” she said, in such a tone that Link was certain she already knew what the answer was going to be. Still, she sat beside him and helped him sit the rest of the way up, brought out the sneaky snail shell device she'd used before, and pressed one of these to Link's chest, raising the other to her ear. After a moment, she shook her head. “Stay upright, please. I'll be back in only a moment.”

She stood up again and disappeared through a doorway, and Link pressed his palms into the sheets and grimaced. Being upright only helped his breathing a little, and for some reason he was still exhausted.

He was only there for a few minutes before Sidon appeared as if summoned, grinning broadly at Link. My friend! It is good to see you awake. Tell me, have you been seen to yet?

Link yawned and made a so-so motion with one hand, using the other to rub at his face. Most of his friends were missing, he realized, probably looking around the area- but Daruk was still there, waiting patiently only a few feet away. The simple companionship made Link feel a little better about being bound here.

I think Yeta went to get something, he answered, somewhat belatedly.

Is something the matter? Sidon asked, concerned.

I don't know. She listened to my breathing and then left to get something. Link paused to rub his chest, unsure why he was dodging the question. Obviously, something was wrong, because the bright lights were too much and deep breaths made his chest ache and Yeta had obviously gone to fetch something. Don't worry about me, I've had much worse.

Then I'm certain you will get through this as well! Sidon assured him, and then sat himself down on the floor by Link, somehow bringing his head almost exactly level with Link's as he smiled at him. His arm pressed against Link's leg, from his elbow to halfway up to his shoulder, and Link was oddly aware of it from the moment they touched. Let me assure you that you may stay here as long as you need! I will make sure of it myself that you are always welcome.

Link gave Sidon a small, almost shy smile, subtly leaning into him without realizing it. He almost wanted to get down and curl into him, which Link thought was a strange impulse to push down. You don't have to go out of your way. There's a doctor in Gerudo Town who helped when I was ill about two weeks ago.

I didn't know you had been ill very recently, Sidon remarked, a fleeting frown crossing his face. But then he squeezed Link's hand for a moment before letting go again, his cheerful smile returning. You performed admirably by any measure, but especially so if you were still recovering! I insist that you stay as long as you need.

Link closed his eyes, hummed noncommittally, and rocked for a couple of minutes, feeling his leg move against Sidon's arm. He was interrupted before he could summon a reply by Yeta's return, and when he opened his eyes he could see that she was holding a potion he didn't recognize, a sort of turquoise green. She held it out to him and waited until he took it.

“I believe you've got pneumonia,” she said promptly, crossing her arms to frown at him. “That should help, but you'll need to stay here for at least a week to make sure you get well. Pneumonia can turn dangerous very quickly.”

Link frowned, but when he glanced at Daruk, he just gestured for Link to drink the potion.

“Mipha'll never let you hear the end of it if you don't,” Daruk explained, and Link almost smiled before he tipped the bottle back and drank it down. Yeta smiled at him.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding oddly sincere. “I'm afraid you'll have to stay in bed until your breathing clears. Yes, I know, no one enjoys bed rest, but I must insist – the surrounding area is quite dangerous, and you'll be easily fatigued for some time. This way I can monitor your breathing and ensure you get your potions.”

Link frowned but didn't protest, and Sidon reached up and squeezed Link's hand, drawing his attention.

“Worry not, Link!” he said, low but somehow still boisterous. “You can tell me what you've been up to as of late. I am quite certain it's been exciting!”

Link reluctantly surrendered a smile, and when he nodded, Yeta let out a quiet sigh of relief and then bustled off again, probably busy.

True to his word, Sidon stayed by Link's side all the way through to lunch. Link didn't tell him about waking up, and he knew Sidon noticed the absence of an explanation or a proper beginning, but the Zora man didn't confront him about it. Instead, Link started at Outskirt, telling Sidon about his decision to look for Tera in the desert and the journey there.

Link's ghosts returned one by one – first Urbosa, then Revali, and finally Mipha, looking contented and relieved, and absolutely tickled to see him and Sidon still spending time together. Daruk filled them in on what Yeta had said, and Link avoided watching their reactions and focused on telling Sidon about Gerudo Town, the market and Danda's grandchildren and Vilia. Sidon listened attentively, never asked more questions than Link was willing to answer, and when Link paused to think, Sidon shared a few stories of his own as well – his father's reaction when Sidon suddenly started speaking all at once, an excursion to Mount Lanayru to search for luminous stone, another to Lurelin to attempt to keep the tiny village afloat.

Metaphorically, of course, Sidon tacked on, and Link laughed quietly, nodding his understanding.

After lunch, Link fell asleep again, oddly exhausted.

When he woke up, the world was burning, frozen over. It stifled the breath in Link's lungs and seemed to cut right through his clothing down to the bone. His head felt soft and cottony, his thoughts coming through muffled and fuzzed.

Link let out a choked sound of distress and reached up, but the blankets had already been shoved off, and his clothes were soaked in sweat. He made a weak attempt to pull the tunic off and gave up halfway through when he started shivering. He was freezing cold and feverish and there was sweat trickling down his temple, and his mouth was open to pant, a pang shooting through his chest with every shallow breath. He tried to push himself upright and only got himself to his elbows, and even then he was shaking.

“Easy there, lay back down,” came Yeta's voice, quiet and soothing. Link shook his head and tried to push himself the rest of the way up, but despite his best efforts, her hand on his shoulder was all it took to hold him in place. He squirmed, trying to shake her off, and she removed her hand but still didn't let him up. “You've got a fever. You're confused. Everything is fine.”

Link shook his head again, hazy and frustrated, and pushed down a gasp at the pain that his shivers sent across his skin. He looked around, and after only a couple of moments found Mipha, sitting just out of reach and looking worried. He started to reach out anyway, stopped, and instead signed plaintively, Mipha. She looked sad and worried, but she didn't come any closer, so he signed, more insistently, Mipha!

It was an instinct he'd forgotten until now, to reach out to her when he was low. But it came easily, and Mipha was the only thing in focus.

“Right here, Link,” she murmured, but she still didn't move. He made a low, breathless sound of protest and then broke into a coughing fit, rough and wet and painfully long, going on and on until it was hurting his whole body. By the time it was over he was gasping for breath. When Yeta tried to reach for him, he squirmed away, arms shaking under him.

Daruk murmured something in a low, reassuring tone, but Link wasn't really listening, his attention darting around and always returning to Mipha. When Yeta tried to approach again, holding a potion bottle, he pushed himself away again.

Mipha, he signed again, foggy and exhausted and anxious. The fever-bright memory of her hand was trapped in his head, cool scales against his hot face, comforting and gentle.

He didn't know how long he stayed like that, arms shaking under him and shying away from anyone who tried to come closer, but eventually Sidon appeared, towering and worried, and approached Link and Link let him. With an oddly confident gait, Sidon crossed over to Link's side and knelt beside him again, pushed his fingers into Link's unbraided, loose hair, and said reassuringly, “It's alright, Link. You're ill, but you're quite safe. No one here will hurt you.”

The tension drained out of Link, and he would have collapsed back down if Sidon hadn't caught him. Sidon helped him sit up and gestured for something, and he helped Link drink the same potion he had earlier, minty and freezing.

Link thought he might have encouraged Link to eat something, too, but he wasn't sure; before he knew it, he was slipping off again, Sidon still seated beside him.

The next time he woke up, it was in the middle of the night; all that lit the area was the soft glow of the luminous stones. Sidon was still beside him, clearly dozing, but he started and woke again when Link shifted, and smiled as brightly as if he hadn't been near sleep at all. Before Link could properly gather his thoughts together, he was already pushing a bowl of simmered fruit in front of Link, and, unsure of what else to do, Link ate it, a little at a time, while Sidon watched with an odd attentiveness.

Link still felt fuzzy and dazed, but aware enough to remember his behavior earlier. If his face hadn't already been hot with fever, he thought he might have flushed in embarrassment, and he couldn't bring himself to look up as he ate.

“I'm sorry I'm not my sister,” Sidon said eventually, an unexpected note of self-recrimination in his voice and a soft, wry smile on his face. Link looked up at him, startled, and Sidon explained, “You were asking for her earlier. You seemed quite distressed. I... well, I understand, of course. I miss her as well.”

Link was acutely aware of the ghost of Mipha, only a yard or two away, watching them and probably with tears in her eyes.

She would have been so happy to see you thrive, he said at last, probably barely visible in the dim lighting. She loved you more than anything.

Sidon laughed, but Link thought he relaxed a little, a tension Link hadn't noticed easing out of him. “Yes, I... yes, I know.” He reached up, squeezed Link's hand, and added, “You as well, I hope you know. I was... always quite jealous of how happy you made her.” Mipha made a soft sound of surprise, but Link couldn't bring himself to look away from Sidon. “My voice was never as good as hers, but...”

He trailed off, leaving Link blinking at him in confusion, but then he started humming, deep and a little rough. Link took another few moments to understand, but when he did, he almost laughed, affection blooming through him. Not far away, Mipha sounded like she was giggling and crying at the same time, Daruk saying something soothing.

Sidon was trying to hum Link back to sleep, the way Mipha so often did. And after only a few minutes, Link was asleep again.

Before Link knew that he was awake, he knew that he couldn't breathe.

He rolled over onto his side, coughing and hacking and gasping, feeling mucus in his mouth and tears in his eyes. His chest strained and ached, coughing more air out than he could wheeze in. Every deep breath he tried to take cut off short. His ears rang too loudly for him to hear anything. His head pounded. His eyes stung sharply.

After an eternity, he was pulled upright and against someone. They rubbed his chest as if to help it clear, and after a few minutes Link thought it might have been helping; the aching desperation was starting to ease, and he could almost, almost catch his breath again.

“That's it, you're doing wonderfully,” he heard Sidon murmuring, low and strained. “Yes, exactly like that, well done. Air is quite necessary for young Hylians, I understand. Not to worry, I'm sure your lungs will clear in no time at all, my friend. All you need to do is breathe.”

Link wheezed, leaning against Sidon without thinking about it. Something about the texture of his skin was familiar and comforting, and cool against Link's feverish skin. His arm was still around Link's shoulders. Link made a low, anxious sound. His heart was racing; his nerves still hummed with terror, and his body hurt, his chest and shoulder pulling awfully. There was something wrong, but his hands were too clumsy to ask. He couldn't remember how he'd gotten here. He couldn't remember where he was.

“Everything is alright,” Sidon said, though his voice was still rough with tension. Link hummed anxiously, but Sidon didn't move. “I- Yeta! Link has awoken again, but I don't believe he's quite, ah, aware-”

Link tried to push himself up, peering around the room, but his vision was too blurry to make out anything he recognized. He was shivering again, hellfire and blizzards, and his body felt so heavy. His head hurt. His chest hurt. He let himself slump in exhaustion, cheek falling against Sidon's chest, and listened.

Someone started to approach, and Link squirmed, trying to get away or turn and look or, or anything, but it was too hard to focus and something was wrong and-

“Calm down, little brother,” Daruk said, and his voice was deep and soothing, and Link settled almost instantly, shivering painfully again. “You're sick, goro, but you're being taken care of. Everyone's right here with you, goro.”

Link made a soft, weak sound and stopped struggling, and only a few minutes later, or maybe longer, Yeta appeared again, and she and Sidon helped Link drink another too-bright colorful potion, swirling with hazy rainbow shades of turquoise.

“Everything is going to be alright, Mipha,” Link heard Urbosa say quietly. “He's getting the best care he can. Your brother hasn't even left him in days.”

Mipha sniffled. “I just- I don't like to be so helpless. I should be the one looking after him.”

“And if you could, you would,” Urbosa said, calm and unwavering. “But all we can do is wait. He'll recover in time, Mipha. He's got a will of iron, that one, and this won't keep him down for very long.”

“I know,” Mipha choked out, audibly miserable. “I-I... know.”

There were a few seconds of silence.

“I'm scared,” Mipha admitted quietly.

“I know,” Urbosa murmured. “I am, too. But he'll pull through. You'll see.”

Mipha sniffled, and if they said anything else, Link didn't hear it; he was asleep again.

Link woke up with the start of a scream in his throat and not enough air to make it. He was gasping and turning and crying, trying to get away from the pain of his body, the weakness of his lungs. He was dying. He was dying and it hurt. His fingers clenched against his chest, desperate and frightened, and when someone touched him he struggled to get away.

“It's only me,” Sidon said. “It's only me. You're safe here. Come, sit up with me, you're doing well, Link, you're doing well. Just slow down and take a breath. Just one breath.”

Tears spilling down his cheeks, dizzy and aching and trembling, Link took a breath.

“Perfect,” Sidon said. “That's perfect, Link.”

The next time Link woke, he wasn't sure how much time had passed, but looking out revealed that it was either very late at night, or very early in the morning. He ached all over and he still felt groggy, but it was easier to breathe; he no longer felt like there was a steel band around his chest. There was water within reach, and he pushed himself upright, slow and shaky, picked it up, and drank it carefully.

“Link?” Mipha asked tentatively, startling Link so that his clumsy fingers dropped the empty glass in his lap. But when he looked up, Mipha's face was drawn and pale with worry, intense eyes fixed on him. “Are you feeling better?”

Link reached up. His hair was still loose around his shoulders, and running his fingers against his scalp seemed to clear some of the feverish heat there. It was still damp with sweat. But it wasn't the awful sensation of burning cold that he remembered from the last few times he'd woken up. He nodded.

There was a collective exhale of relief from the others, even Revali looking more relaxed where he was lounging against the wall. Link smiled a little, bashful and oddly touched.

He'd picked a bowl of honeyed fruit out of his slate by the time he was found, and was slowly but steadily making his way through it. It was Sidon's voice that made him look up, blinking owlishly at the doorway.

Even with the way Sidon was beaming at him, the Zora man looked exhausted.

“Link, my friend, you're awake!” Sidon exclaimed, sounding genuinely excited. He plopped himself down by Link, seated comfortably on the floor, and Link was struck again by how tall he was. You look better than you have in days, I must say! How are you feeling?

Link considered, put his bowl down in his lap, and signed plainly, Gross. He was still wearing the tunic and trousers that he'd changed into when he'd first returned from the fight against Vah Ruta, and they must have dampened and dried a dozen times to feel as greasy as they did now, sticking to his skin.

Sidon laughed, warm and delighted. I can only imagine. What is the last thing you remember? You've been here for quite some time, but you have been... disoriented.

That sounded about right. Link squinted, frowning at the foot of the bed. He didn't think 'dying' was right, and he wasn't really sure if that had been a dream or a flashback or if it had actually happened, and the next thing after that was too hazy to describe well. So... You hummed me to sleep.

“Ah!” Sidon sounded pleased, if a little embarrassed, smiling at Link. So I did. Well, that was nearly a full week ago now. You've been quite ill, but your fever broke last night, so Yeta was hopeful that you would wake today.

Sorry. Link felt his cheeks flush.

Whatever for? Sidon asked cheerfully, and without waiting for a response, continued, You should know that everything went exactly as we had hoped. The rain has stopped, Vah Ruta has not woken again, and the reservoir is even returning to its normal levels. I truly cannot thank you enough.

Link gave him a small, tired smile, and then considered him for a moment, already feeling exhaustion threaten to swamp him again.

Finally, he held a hand out and beckoned, and when Sidon didn't move, he signed, Come on. Let's go to sleep.

Sidon blinked at him rapidly, surprised, and then chuckled, climbed into bed beside him, and curled half around Link. Both of them were asleep in no time at all.

Chapter Text

Though Vah Ruta had settled back into the reservoir, many of the older Zora were still wary and suspicious of Link.

They'll come around, Bazz said encouragingly, and it was hard to imagine him as having ever been the same age as Link when the man towered over him, smilingly consolingly down. You were all but one of us, once, even if the eldest prefer to pretend otherwise. The number of hours we spent swimming together in the lower levels, exploring the mountains, getting into trouble... He subsided into reminiscing, and Link tried not to let it bother him that nothing stirred in his head. Bazz shook himself and smiled again. But regardless, I cannot express how happy I am to see you well – and with such an auspicious success to your name, now! Vah Ruta is not easily tamed.

Sidon did most of the actual work, Link dismissed, but he was smiling a little, pleased despite himself. He coughed into his fist, rolled his achy shoulders – more stiff with disuse and lingering illness than inflammation, now – and then said, Is it really alright for me to stay a while?

Well, Prince Sidon did insist, Rivan noted, eyes dancing with amusement. And no one is going to argue with Prince Sidon.

Link chuckled, soft and breathy, because Sidon had gone to lengths to persuade Link not to continue traveling until the cough cleared completely – with Mipha backing him up, unbeknownst to the prince. I suppose not. Can I ask for your help with something?

Of course, Bazz and Rivan both signed, in almost eerie unison. Link smiled again, and then moved a little closer, explaining the request the old historian had made of him – they were both familiar with the area, and he hoped they could give him approximate locations for the monuments he hadn't run into on his way up.

His recovery had been slow, though the cough was almost gone – he'd tired out easily for a full week even after regaining lucidity, and his explorations of Zora's Domain had been ginger at best. But he'd spent a lot of time hanging around the edges, listening to the Zora talk amongst themselves, and a few times he'd been approached – by still-wary Zora elders, by a young girl who shared a song with him and another who asked him hopefully if it was safe to travel yet, and by the historian who'd asked the favor.

Link was just starting to get truly restless in the confines of the domain, so frankly, noting down the contents of each of the monuments for the man sounded like a perfect chance to stretch his legs.

Between them, Bazz and Rivan were able to guess at the locations for most of the monuments, intimately familiar with the area from their patrols and counterattacks. Link marked them each on his map, and Revali groused about needing to help him scout, despite the fact that Link hadn't actually asked yet. Link quirked an eyebrow at him, not quite hiding a smile, and Revali scowled back.

“Oh, as if the threat of you making yourself sick again isn't reason enough,” Revali griped. Link refrained from rolling his eyes and thanked the two Zora, and then asked about the surrounding area, snorting when they pushed and ribbed each other gently as they answered over each other.

For the next week, gentle exploration was the name of the game. It took around a day and a half to find all of the monuments for the Zora historian, and when he was on his way out again, Ledo stopped him and politely asked if he would be able to retrieve any luminous stone for the repairs. Link had some on hand, which Ledo was clearly delighted by, and he not only let Link stay and watch him smooth it into the existing structure, he gave him two diamonds in exchange.

Link made a mental note. Luminous stone was much easier to find than diamond, and the next time he asked one of the Great Fairies to enhance his diamond circlet, he'd know where to go.

“If Fronk's wife would return from her trip and ease his mind, we'd be getting twice as much done,” Ledo muttered, and Link tilted his head before he moved on, making a mental note nonetheless.

The mountains around Zora's Domain were gorgeous. Link circled slowly around the west side of Zora's Domain, climbing upward, and when he hit a dead end, he sailed down and twisted up the waterfall, loving the flowing magic around him. He stopped to catch his breath and cough a couple times at the top, shaking himself off, and then grabbed an apple from his slate and ate it as he walked, looking around wistfully.

He could see for miles. He steered past the towering rock formations that were scattered across Upland Zorana just to keep watching the horizon. He could see the sea from here. He could see Death Mountain, a strange island in the middle of the lake, he could see the wreck of a fortress, speared through with a Sheikah Tower. The sight gave him an unexpected and powerful sense of longing, and when he thought about it, he realized it was how he'd felt when he'd looked over Hyrule for the first time, when he walked out of the cave.

“Link?” Mipha asked, quiet and concerned, when he'd lingered too long. He looked at her and hummed in question, and she tilted her head, forehead wrinkled. “Are you alright?”

Link nodded without hesitation, turning his gaze back on the distance. It's beautiful, he said. So much of Hyrule was beautiful.

He could hear the smile in Mipha's voice when she replied. “It is, isn't it? I once took the sight for granted. But I don't think I ever will again.”

Link didn't have a reply to that, but it didn't make the quiet heavy. He lingered there for a few minutes, then took out another snack, a sneaky river snail he'd roasted in its shell, and picked at it with his fingers as he walked, steering away whenever he heard the rough and angry noises of lizalfos. He coughed, but it was almost back to the one he'd had before Vah Ruta, not as deep or as hoarse. Just a cough, maybe the faint beginning of a headache, but...

He was smiling until he reached the edge of the basin, overlooking another part of Hyrule altogether.

From here, he could see the castle, swathed in the writhing beast of Calamity Ganon. His breath slowed, and without thinking, he let his hand open, dropping the river shell and letting it roll away. His fingers were still sticky with grease. He licked it off.

“Let's go, Link,” Urbosa said quietly, the weight in her voice as present as ever. “There's nothing you can do for her right now.”

Link nodded, but didn't move away just yet. It wasn't as crushing as it had been the last couple times, looking out to Hyrule Castle, but... Do you think we ever stood a chance? he asked without thinking.

“What?” Revali asked, soft in a way that was almost warning. Link brushed it off, feeling oddly pensive.

They were dozens of miles from Hyrule Castle, and Calamity Ganon swallowed it utterly. It had as much mass as a mountain; it had to be bigger than Vah Ruta, which had towered over both Link and Sidon to a terrifying degree. It twisted and roared like the corrupted Naydra, thrashing against its invisible bonds. And Link felt very small.

Why would Hylia choose two people so small to fight something so big? Link asked, just to put the question in the air and make it real.

All of his friends, Mipha and Daruk and Revali and Urbosa, they had volunteered themselves, or maybe been recruited- he realized he didn't know. But what he did know was that Hyrule had built their role for them. But Link and Zelda...

Link and Zelda had been born to fight the abomination in the distance, and Link looked inside himself and wondered what power was in him that would make that make sense. Link was just a boy who lived half in the wild – short, slight, easy to distract and infatuate with the beauty of the landscape and the taste of roasted fish. He wasn't a monster. He wasn't a god.

“It's time to go, little brother,” Daruk said instead of answering. “It's getting late.”

It was. Link stared at the castle for a few seconds longer, and then turned away, grabbed his paraglider, and hopped carefully off the rocks.

Link found his way into the border wall of Zora's Domain and paced the circle just for fun the next day. There was a chest on each end, one with an opal and one with a silver bow, and he took them both shamelessly, putting them into his slate before he found his way out and climbed back into the domain.

Most of the others stayed back when he moved along, Mipha to keep watch over her brother, Daruk to keep an eye on her, and Urbosa for reasons unspecified. Revali implied he'd keep his distance, and he was true to his word, so in effect, Link was traveling alone that day. He found he didn't mind the thought.

Taking his time weaving through the wilderness, Link found his way up to Lulu Lake and then veered right, watching his footing as he traveled over the rocks. It was a vastly different view from the west side of the domain, but just as stunning in its own way – the rough surfaces of ancient stone monuments, the ripple and rise and fall of long-ago movements in nature, the smooth-worn trails of thousands of footsteps.

When he hit a waterfall, he hesitated, wanting to climb it and move on over the mountain, but then he looked over his shoulder. There was a pretty little forest that way, and it dipped down; he thought he could see the gleam of water. He turned that way instead and headed down, admiring his surroundings.

It reminded him of the times he'd traveled alone before, in the Great Plateau and in the Highlands. It wasn't lonely at all; in fact, he rather liked it. It was peaceful. Soothing. He thought, if he had the freedom to, that he could spend his whole life like this and be happy.

The rumble of the ground startled him, and he turned sharply. One of the boulders was moving.

Link reached for his bow. The boulder hauled itself up, revealing two massive club-shaped arms and a heavily listing rock body, stumbling around on its own weight. To his own surprise, Link felt his mouth pull itself into an almost arrogant smirk.

For the next half hour, he wore away slowly at the massive beast, taking periodic cover behind boulders and trees to catch his breath. Revali swooped by periodically, keeping an eye on him, but didn't seem to think it warranted much attention, let alone interference, and Link found himself pleased about that. For once, he was doing just fine, and with the rumble of the talus' stumbling approach, he rolled out, fired an arrow, grabbed a sledgehammer and swung over his head.

The luminous ore node shattered, and the magic holding the talus together collapsed, sending it crumbling into a pile of so many stones and gems. Link dropped the hammer and then sat down hard, giving the bounty a pleased smile, and then kneaded his sore and overstretched stomach scarring, gave himself a few minutes to catch his breath and let the adrenaline drain away, and then fumbled for his slate and grabbed some Stamella mushroom rice balls, his hair soaked in sweat. His shoulders were sore, he'd caught a couple of scrapes in his sides and face that ached deeply, the cough was threatening to bubble back up, and despite all that he felt... good.

That path turned into a dead end at the reservoir, and Link lingered there for only a few moments before turning around and heading back up to the waterfall, climbing it to reach the next level up. He turned right and took his time ambling down. He was getting tired, and he'd have to head back soon, but he wanted to reach the end of the basin first.

For no particular reason, because he was tired but not exhausted, he stopped a few times along the way. Caught some hightail lizards, some restless crickets, laid down in the grass and combed his fingers through it.

He felt like himself. That was it. He felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

On the eastern edge of the basin, there was a little elevated rock table, with a little step up. Link spotted some hearty radishes and climbed up, and then paused, surprised to see some silent princesses as well.

He stared at them for a minute, then left them alone, dug up the hearty radishes, and climbed the rest of the way up to the platform to stare out over the sea. He grabbed a honeyed apple and ate it in slices, licking his fingers. He felt again like he could see forever. He wondered what was special about this platform, that sacred flowers had chosen to grow here.

On impulse, he thought to Hylia, Hyrule is a beautiful place, Mother. I think I'm glad to protect it.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky.

He didn't start to return until the sun had already set behind him, but that was fine; Revali would let the others know he was okay. So he was surprised when he was met, just below Lulu Lake, by Prince Sidon, Bazz, and Gaddison, all of them looking somewhat frantic. He blinked owlishly at them, and then tilted his head inquisitively.

Gaddison covered her eyes and laughed helplessly. He wrinkled his nose. They'd only spoken once.

Sidon just looked relieved. “Link! It is wonderful to see you well. I apologize, I was beginning to become quite concerned – did you meet with trouble on your way? Were you taken with dizziness or fatigue?”

Link gave him a small, sheepish smile and shook his head. No, just exploring. I watched the ocean for a while. Did you know that there's a talus southwest of Tal Tal Peak? There's a dock on the reservoir that leads right up to it. Seems dangerous.

Sidon blinked rapidly, and then let out a hearty laugh. “I suppose I can take that off our garrison's list this blood moon! Yes, we're quite aware, but unfortunately we have to prioritize quite strictly these days. Did it cause you any trouble?” Link shook his head. “Wonderful! Then please, accompany us back, my friend – we ought to set poor Rivan's mind to rest.”

A little bemused, Link went with them, listening contentedly to their boisterous chatter. He'd probably leave in the next few days, he thought with some regret – his friends had been right, he did love Zora's Domain. But he had plenty yet to do, and he still wanted to find the Great Fairy in Akkala, and it looked like he was running low on things to find and do here. So that left him with just one real task before he moved on.

He looked up at Sidon and waited until he'd caught the man's attention, and then asked, Would you be okay with recording some lines for me before I go anywhere? I'm not in a hurry, if you don't have time right away, but my recordings now aren't right for the circumstances and I'm having trouble communicating.

Sidon blinked at him, looking genuinely surprised, and then a wide, beaming grin spread across his mouth. “Of course, my good friend! I would be no less than wonderfully honored!”

Chapter Text

All in all, Link spent the better part of a month in Zora's Domain, but when he left he felt more comfortable in his own skin than he had in weeks or longer. He found Fronk on the way out and coaxed his story out of him.

“My wife has been fishing in Lake Hylia,” Fronk revealed, his face pinched with worry. Link nodded encouragingly. “She- well, we've been having trouble making ends meet, all things considered.” He waved vaguely, and Link nodded again. Fronk relaxed a little and sighed. “Lake Hylia has quite exotic fish, so she knew she could make an extra few hundred rupees by making the trip. But she was supposed to return home a week ago, and...” He shrugged helplessly. “You know how the better part of Hyrule is these days. I worry that something terrible has happened to her, but with our children so young...”

“I'll look for them,” Link promised without hesitation, and found himself pleased when Fronk let out a sigh of relief.

Even Revali didn't make a peep about his promise, despite it being so far out of the way, and it was only by chance that Link decided to walk for the first part of the pretty trail down Zora River. But then he ran into a little Zora girl pacing back and forth on the bank, frowning anxiously, her stubby tail flopping behind her head.

Curiosity stopped him, and he sat down beside her, smiling apologetically when she jumped. He opened up his slate, tapped a few things with one finger, and asked her, “Do you need help?”

Using his slate this way again was... a comfort, he decided. It was good, and it was comforting.

The girl looked from him to the slate and back, eyes unexpectedly sharp and intelligent for someone her age... no, Link had seen her before, he realized. He'd been sitting by the fountain after a nightmare. She'd told him children like him should be in bed. Hm. “Are you going down the river?” she asked abruptly. Link nodded. She straightened up. “Can you make sure this makes it down?” she asked bluntly. “There's a... friend I've been trying to get to meet me in person, but I'm not sure the messages are reaching him. He doesn't usually take this long to reply, and my parents won't let me go down myself.”

For the sake of efficiency, Link chose not to point out that the road was nigh impassable to most travelers as of late. He smiled at her and nodded. “I'll do it.”

She relaxed and smiled at him, reaching up to cup one of her temporal fins self-consciously. “Thanks. Um, my name's Finley. If he asks. He should be... uh, I don't know where the capsule usually ends up, exactly. But some way down the river.”

Link nodded reassuringly, and resigned himself to walking most of the way down on foot before he skipped on to Lake Hylia.

The trip down was relatively easy; a blood moon hadn't passed yet, so most of the monsters were still gone from the last time he'd been threw, and the ones that weren't were easily disposed of while he kept his attention on the bobbing little letter carrier. There were a few blocks in the river that he had to clear, and near the river mouth there was a troublesome little lizal camp that he'd actually avoided altogether the first time through. But Urbosa smirked at him and Daruk laughed heartily and Revali complained, and Mipha gave him a sweet little smile he adored, and it was easy. It was fun, even.

The capsule made it out of the lizal camp and floated down to a little makeshift campsite in one of the islands around the drowned village ruins. Link had barely registered the area before his head snapped up, eyes wide, but Revali was already taking off, giving him a dismissive nod before going to, Link assumed, find the guardian. He swallowed and tried to refocus.

A man sat by a fire in the campsite, looking gloomy. But as Link watched, he happened to look up, found the bobbing capsule, and hopped to his feet, doing an undignified little dance. He waded into the water to get it, swimming the last few feet, tore it open, and read it while he was still clambering out, smile so wide it looked like it had to hurt. He jumped up and down a little more, looked around wildly, spotted Link approaching, and waved as if to catch his attention.

“Is the road passable?” the man blurted out, eyes wide and hopeful. Link gave him an indulgent nod, and the man let out a cheer before taking off at a run.

Link smiled, watching him for just a few yards before he opened up his slate, picked a warp point, and disappeared.

Bosh Kala shrine was the closest access point to Lake Hylia, so that was where Link went, and after a few moments of contemplation, he turned to closely follow the river rather than the road, keeping an eye out for any Zora that might be making her hasty way upstream. Mipha matched his pace on the other side, looking contented in the wake of their time with the Zora, and Revali flew overhead, and Urbosa and Daruk not far behind.

Link followed the river down, and then glided past the waterfall to hit the lakewater, striking out immediately for the nearest rock.

“A raft, perhaps?” Mipha suggested, casting a thoughtful gaze across the vast breadth of the lake. “I don't recommend trying to swim so far, Link. You're still tiring far too easily.”

“Oy vey, the laundry list of assistance our little champion needs,” Revali muttered, and took off once again.

Link picked a direction and swam to shore, smiling softly.

Rafting around the enormous lake took most of the day, but it was peaceful. There were only a few lizalfos in the water, and most of those were near islands, so Link would spend swathes of time waving the Korok leaf, cutting through the water. There were a good many Koroks around the lake, some chests, a shrine at the heart of one of the islands, and towards the end of the day, he finally found Mei, camped out under a little lean-to, half in and half out of the water, with her catch still swimming around in a tied net. She'd accumulated quite a few.

She rushed off as soon as he mentioned that she was being missed, flustered and frantic, and Link set up a fire and roasted the fish she'd given him as thanks, tired but content. He was a little sore where his skin had stretched and twisted over the muscles of his shoulders and sides, but it wasn't bad at all, and he felt more satisfied than anything. He thought he might sleep well tonight.

“Where next, little brother?” Daruk asked cheerfully, and Link opened up his map to point out a few locations. Upland Zorana had granted him a good view of the southern parts of Akkala and Eldin, and he'd been able to mark both towers and a handful of shrines. He tapped Akkala Tower first, then a shrine he'd spotted east of it, and then the coast, tracing a wobbly path up to the northeastern corner of Akkala. “A mighty fine path!”

Link gave him a small smile, and then made a short, sharp gesture, indicating that it would be further on, and then tapped Eldin tower and a path up where he assumed Death Mountain would eventually form on his map. Daruk exhaled, subtly relieved, and Link nodded at him, then reached for the skewer of roast fish and started to pick at it.

You and Urbosa are getting along better, he said to Mipha after a while, not quite able to hide his curiosity. She sighed, then laughed a little and nodded.

Yes, she agreed, hesitated, and then said, I- She's always meant well. I think, the more time passes, the better we all understand that we must be kind to each other. If all we have left is the fear and doubt, then we have nothing left at all.

Link gave her a small smile and a quick nod of agreement, ate quietly for a few minutes, and then said, I'm glad I have you. All of you.

It would be a long and lonely journey without his friends.

Link woke up in the early morning the next day, rolled over, and warped to the Soh Kofi shrine, still yawning. He was still bleary when he checked his map, climbed down to the path, and started following the road that ought to take them to Akkala. So he didn't exactly have his wits about him when he ran into someone on the path.

“Yo!”

Link stiffened, rolling his shoulders and glancing warily in the direction of the voice. His friends pulled in around him, as if to shelter him.

The traveler looked innocuous enough, but Link hadn't run into him before. That wasn't uncommon, but... He took half a step back and cocked his head, hand straying uncomfortably to the club at his hip, not quite gripping it but well within easy reach. Link decided, half-distracted, that he vastly preferred approaching people over being approached. Being approached felt... well, like an attack.

“Hey, it's good to see a friendly face this far from civilization!” the man said cheerfully, slowing down as he approached. “Heading to Akkala?” Link nodded. “Me too! Let's go together, path's supposed to be dangerous.” Link hummed. None of his friends had relaxed, but the man didn't seem concerned, just waving Link down the road in invitation. Grudgingly, Link trudged after him. He seemed unperturbed by Link's mild hostility. “Akkala Citadel is a wreck these days, but they say that back in the day it was a stronghold to last for centuries! I'm excited to see it myself, even in ruins. Goddess knows what it's like to see a building so grand. A bit like seeing the castle itself, wouldn't you say?”

Link loosened up gradually, listening to the traveler enthuse over the different parts of Akkala, Skull Lake and the falls and a Great Fairy Fountain that was supposed to be there, but the traveler had never seen it, Link was assured. Link hummed along, easing from wary and unsure into something more relaxed- amused even, watching the man's animated face and wide gestures. He seemed passionate when he described the spring of power that was supposed to be hidden somewhere in Akkala; Link wondered if he was a historian.

Even Link's friends fell back, letting him focus on the living instead of keeping his attention on them. They talked amongst themselves instead, and Link caught snatches of conversation about Skull Lake and Gut Check Rock.

“So where are you going?” the man asked at last, smiling brightly at Link as if he hadn't just talked for a quarter of an hour without stopping to breathe.

Looking for the fairy fountain, Link answered without thinking, the corners of his mouth twitching up a little. The traveler grinned, and it took Link five seconds too long to register the shiver that ran down his spine in response. Link started to frown, turning to face him-

Then there was cold steel at the hollow of his throat, and Link froze.

“It's a shame you'll never get there,” the Yiga man murmured, and his eyes glinted with what Link could only read as madness.

Link threw himself backward with all his strength, and the Yiga man reacted a hair too late. Link got away with just a shallow slice across the skin, hit the ground hard, and rolled away to the sound of shouting. His blood roared in his ears, and hot liquid trickled down his collarbone. The next blow got blocked with the hilt of the dragonbone club, and gave Link enough time to stumble to his feet, panting.

The Yiga man was still grinning, disaffected and the tip of his blade edged in red.

“Hiding that hand won't save you, hero,” he hissed through his smirk, and lunged again. Link sidestepped and swung, and the Yiga grunted as the weight of the club bowled him over. Link threw himself forward, pinned the Yiga down, and raised the club. He just grinned wider. “The Yiga Clan will always find you.”

Link brought the club down. The Yiga was gone before it hit the ground. Link snarled.

“Bastards,” Urbosa murmured spitefully, crossing over to crouch beside him. “The Yiga Clan have never been above treachery.”

Link swallowed hard, fingers twitching around his club, and settled in increments, heart still racing. He felt as if he were struggling to catch up.

“Can you lift your head, Link?” Mipha asked softly. “I want to see the wound on your throat.”

Link had almost forgotten about that. Remarkable, since the wound stung terribly on the sensitive skin. He tilted his head back, and Mipha studied it for a few moments before sighing and nodding. He lowered it again, but brought up a hand to cover it gingerly, shielding it from the wind.

“It's a minor wound,” Mipha reassured him. “It should stop bleeding soon. You did well evading that first attack.”

Link grunted, looking at the ground where he'd pinned the Yiga.

“Link?” Mipha prompted, soft and worried.

He reached up to scrub at his dry eyes, then shook his head and pulled himself shakily to his feet. He took a deep breath, then another, then said, I'm going to sit down and eat a meal.

“Good idea,” Mipha murmured, and sat beside him while he went through his slate for food.

All four of them looked worried, but Link just leaned back against the tree and ate, a few apples and a palm fruit and some honeyed berries left from Mount Lanayru. Nothing substantial, just enough to settle him down and let him think for a while. The silk gloves were still on his hands, pretty and thick enough to hide the light of his triforce; Sidon's bright yellow marks, all the way up his arms, weren't even visible. But it seemed that the Yiga were determined not to let him rest. No, whatever purpose it was they pretended to serve, they wanted nothing more than to see him run-down and defeated.

Link was more sad and weary than scared, this time. He'd just wanted time.

“Hey!”

Link went for the club again.

“Whoa, there, friend! It's just me!”

Link looked up, and he didn't relax until he saw it was Beedle, waving at him from down the path.

“Hey!” Beedle called again, cheerful. “Fancy seeing you here! Haven't run into each other since Gerudo Canyon, wasn't it? You must be quite the traveler yourself!”

Link hummed, still uncomfortable despite Beedle's familiarity. Beedle slowed down and cocked his head, concerned.

“Something the matter? You seem upset. I'm moving along to visit the Akkala stables, you going that way or heading to Eldin?”

Link grunted, and a long, perilously awkward moment passed. Urbosa's eyes were dark with frustration and worry, and Revali looked, if anything, even more hostile; Daruk's expression was deceptively mild, and even Mipha's was pinched and unhappy, though she waved encouragingly when Link met her eyes. Beedle just waited, not looking concerned one way or another.

“I've got arrows,” Beedle coaxed after a while. “Some fireproof lizards, too, if you want 'em. Special deal for a special supplier, yeah?”

Link hesitated for a moment or two longer, and then, finally, nodded, climbing to his feet. He made a beckoning gesture, and Beedle relaxed all at once, grinning at him. It was a lot friendlier than the Yiga's grin.

“There you are!” he said cheerfully. “Alright, to business- what've you got for me?”

They made it the rest of the way up the trail like that, Link offering lizalfos parts for arrows and potion-making supplies; he hadn't been able to sell in Zora's Domain, so he had plenty, though Beedle of course couldn't take them all. He seemed quite delighted with what he did have, though, and more than happy to offer his stock in return. Per usual, Link cleaned him out of arrows without remorse.

“Oh, I've got this for you too!” Beedle exclaimed, fished through his pack, and produced an arrow with a rather strange-looking tip. “Got this from an old guy wayyy up Akkala road! Supposed to do a number on those creepy-crawly machines, and I can't think of anyone more likely to put it to good use. Let me know if it's any good, yeah? On the house this time!”

Link turned it over thoughtfully; he'd never seen anything like it. But he nodded. Thanks.

He added it to the Sheikah slate. The slate's system labeled it an 'ancient arrow', and depicted it lit up like the other ancient weapons. Interesting.

“Watch yourself!” Beedle warned, when they finally parted ways. He cast a ginger look up the trail Link was following. “Akkala Citadel's supposed to be real nasty. I know you can handle yourself, but, well... be careful! Wouldn't do to lose my new favorite customer.”

He waved his hand, the one with Link's green soulpaint smeared across it. Link noticed that it was substantially darker than when Link had last seen it – not quite vivid, but a very distinctly opaque splotch. Link smiled and waved back, and wondered what could cause the colors to change. Maybe because he was gathering so much of what he'd lost of himself...?

The path changed under Link's feet as he made his way up where Beedle went down. The remains of an ancient road, made of broken stone and overgrown with grass and weeds, made the ground rough and hard. There wasn't much on the way up, just the trail and a few stray, barren trees and shrubs, and it made the journey quiet. Link kept his ears pricked for anyone coming up behind him, glancing back every so often, but he was alone save for his friends, and Urbosa was clearly watching their back as well.

He took a left at the next fork in the path, heading up toward the citadel instead of down past the parade grounds, and then paused, cocking his head. Then he let go of his club, drew his bow, and nocked a shock arrow.

“Hurry,” Mipha encouraged quietly, without even looking ahead.

Link nodded and darted forward, speeding up. The sky was darkening with the threat of a storm, cool air billowing around them, and up ahead, he could hear the bellows and huffs of a moblin, along with someone shouting. They came into view in only a couple minutes, and Link could clearly see that a man had been knocked down, and he was scrambling backward, yelling in fear. The moblin was taking its sweet time stomping forward, but as Link watched, it raised its club over its head.

Link dragged the arrow back, lifted his bow, and fired. The moblin fell, twitching, to the ground, and Link dropped his bow carelessly and grabbed his own club, his focus only on the moblin ahead.

He was on them before the moblin could recover, and by then, the Hylian man had recovered his own sword and was swinging at the moblin, frantic and angry.

A dragonbone club was a graceless weapon, but Link still stepped in, sent it crashing into the moblin's knee and then its face, hard enough to break the shaft, and then kicked it over the edge with a shout of his own. It went rolling down and hit the ground, and it didn't get up again.

Link stared down at it for a few moments to make sure, and then tossed the broken club carelessly aside and turned to check on the Hylian man. He'd collapsed to the ground again and was panting, flushed and visibly relieved. Link kept his distance.

“Thanks for the save,” the man said at last, his voice hoarse and croaky. He cleared his throat and didn't try to get up. “I'm- well, I don't consider myself half bad with a sword, almost as good as Oliff, but you-” He shook his head, and then finally got to his feet. “Name's Nell. My grandfather was a soldier in his day, he taught my father, my father taught me. Bastard caught me by surprise, though.” He scratched the back of his head, and finally met Link's eyes. “What's your name? It'll be good to have another Hylian warrior around. It's been just me and Oliff doing our best for at least five, ten years now.”

Link, Link spelled at last. Nell squinted a little, and then made a vague 'again' gesture. Link repeated himself.

“Link?” Nell asked. Link nodded. “Alright, Link. I'll have to brush up on my sign language, I guess?” Link shrugged. “For sure, then.”

Decisively, Nell turned his back and beckoned Link over, looking up at the citadel. Link hesitated, glanced at Daruk, and waited for the man's nod before he went to stand only a few feet from Nell, still tense. The coming storm made his skin ache faintly, but most of his attention was on the citadel, enormous and broken-down and overgrown. There were the old corpses of dead guardians, and the bridge to the citadel was destroyed. That could be a problem.

“My grandfather fought here,” Nell said, almost conversationally. “They say that the Hylian kingdom of Hyrule made its last stand here. I mean, there was Fort Hateno, and that was when the Calamity was kept out of that little village and all- but Akkala Citadel, my father told me that that was where Hyrule's army breathed its last. My grandfather did.” He stayed quiet for a moment, both of them watching the ruined citadel, and then exhaled. “It's so big. Have you ever been in a building so grand? I certainly haven't.” Link shook his head silently, though it occurred to him, belatedly, that that probably wasn't true. Nell let out a broken laugh, wrapping his arms around himself. “Hylia of light... we really did lose a lot when the Calamity struck, didn't we?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Link nodded anyway, feeling the weight of his friends' sadness at his back alongside his own and Nell's. After a long time, Nell sighed again.

“Well- I came here to see the citadel for myself, in memory of my grandfather if no one else, but it looks like this is as far as I'll be going. Look.” He pointed, and Link followed his gaze and frowned. In the sky, moving back and forth, was something like a guardian, scanning the ground below. “You ever seen a Skywatcher before? They're just like those walking bastards. Even worse, if you ask me, but at least you can see where they're looking.”

Link's heart fluttered nervously in his chest, but it wasn't the bone-deep terror that the walking guardians struck in him. He nodded, then looked around, easily finding a path around the broken bridge and up towards the stairwell of the citadel. That would be a good place to start. He could probably climb up the side, but by the goddess, he didn't want to. The weather had him hurting as it was.

Nell read his face, and his own creased. “Ah. Well... Thanks for listening to me chat, Link. I know it must be boring to listen to a stranger ramble about the past.” Link shrugged and shook his head. Nell smiled a little. “Heh. Be careful, alright? Won't do any good to get knocked down by one of those monster beams.”

Link gave him a small smile and an absent nod, his eyes still on the citadel, and without another word they parted ways, Nell heading back the way they'd come and Link heading on up to the stairway. He kept his breath slow and even, and without a word, his friends split up and on both ahead and behind, keeping a close eye on the skywatchers that drifted to and fro, patrolling the way up. Link crept past with caution, grinding his teeth against the rabbit-beat of his heart, and swapped his metal weapons for ancient when the rain began to fall and the metal began to sizzle and spark. Three times he ran into monsters, but all but the last, he was able to dispose of them by knocking the bastards swiftly off the edge.

Then he was at the top, and some of the tension drained out of his shoulders even as he looked around, frowning. Something Link hadn't been able to see from a distance, and that Revali had been too preoccupied to reveal, was that the area around Akkala Tower was dripping with malice. A great, sticky swamp of the stuff surrounded it, and it stuck in long, slimy strings to the sides and the ruins. The entire area grumbled with a low, grinding menace, a subvocal threat that made the hair on the back of Link's neck stand on end. There were monsters, too, almost all of them silver, pacing the area. Not a lot, but more than Link was comfortable with. There was also no obvious way up.

Daruk exhaled.

“No way up but through, little buddy,” Daruk murmured. Revali scoffed softly and made as if to take off and look. Link shook his head, frowning consideringly at the tower.

I'll figure it out, he said, without elaborating on the fact that he felt that this, like the shrines, was a test he had to pass on his own. He walked forward, circling the area slowly. Rain soaked into his hair and clothing, and his skin throbbed faintly, easy enough to tune out as he narrowed his focus. His fingers clenched around an ancient short sword, and even as he paced, lightning struck one of the bokoblin, sending it collapsing, twitching, into the malice.

Link couldn't afford to fall into the malice, and the rain would make climbing tricky. Avoiding the monsters would be easier than avoiding both them and the swamp. Link glanced around again, adding the elements carefully together, and then started forward decisively.

Through a barred window, broken and aged, he could see a bright orange eye peering back. He looked directly at it, nocked an arrow, and fired. It died with only a groan, taking some of the malice swamp with it, and a metal beam it had been holding in place toppled forward. Frowning in concentration, he took his slate and activated magnesis, then carefully maneuvered the beam so that it could act as a balance beam, letting him into the ruined building, if there was anywhere to get into. Then he stepped onto it, arms out from his sides for balance, and walked across, slow and cautious, eyes on the beam and all but tuning out the rest of his surroundings.

His foot slipped on the wet metal.

With a cry, Link toppled, only just managing to clutch at the barred window in time to keep himself from falling entirely. As it was, the beam slipped out from under him and into the swamp, and Link had to unceremoniously yank himself forward and hug the bars, feet bracing against the ancient, shattered stone, wobbly and precarious. He looked down at the bubbling malice below his feet, the seething mass he'd just narrowly avoided falling into, and felt tears well up in his eyes before he even realized he was crying.

Suppressed terror squeezed out of his lungs in cries and gasps, and, mortified, Link pressed his forehead to the metal bars and sobbed, abruptly too scared to move or even to look down again. He felt as if letting go of the bars for even a moment would mean collapsing into that evil swamp, which wanted to eat his flesh off of his bones and his nerves from his flesh. He clutched them like a lifeline, even though he could see safety right there, and panted against the metal, fat tears rolling down his cheeks and dripping to the stone below. He could feel the haunting memory of his body on fire, falling apart in chunks and sheets. He shoved his head against the steel bars and screamed, high and hysterical, careless of the silver bokoblin that had perked up and taken notice.

“Link, sweetheart, please, you need to get out of here. Please grab your slate and go somewhere. Please, Link, you can go anywhere and you won't be here anymore, I promise. You're okay, sweetheart, you're not hurt, you just need to go somewhere else.”

It took a while for Mipha's low, calming litany to break through the haze of Link's tears, the ringing in his ears, but eventually he managed to pry himself away, tumble unceremoniously into the ruined building and its clean stone floor, and fumble with the slate with nerveless fingers. Thoughts flickered through his head so fast that by the time he'd warped to Kakariko, he'd already forgotten why he wanted to go there.

He nearly scared Cottla to death on arrival, and he couldn't stop crying long enough to explain anything to her. Every time he tried to make himself stop, he could only hold it in for a couple of seconds before he burst into tears again. Cottla babbled at him for a bit, high and confused, and then ran away.

He could hear his friends trying to calm him down, he could, but none of them could quite break through; all of them sounded very far away, and even as Link hiccuped and swallowed and tried to breathe through his tears, he couldn't make himself stop long enough to listen. He just sat on the shrine's platform and sobbed, tears dripping off his cheeks and chin and his nose running.

Eventually, Cottla returned, dragging someone behind her. Link didn't realize who it was until they dropped down beside him, and Dorian said, quiet but clear, “It's me, Master Link. May I touch you?”

Link ignored the question entirely and, on an impulse he hadn't realized he had, threw himself toward Dorian, fingers clenching into his shirt. Dorian stiffened for a second, and then, just as quickly, relaxed and wrapped his arm around Link, holding him close. Link could hear his steady heartbeat and his slow, even breath, and feel his hand rubbing slowly up and down Link's back.

“It's alright now, Link,” Dorian murmured. “Just let it out. You're safe here. I know. I know.”

Link didn't know what it was Dorian knew, but somehow, it stemmed the flow of tears anyway, just a little.

Chapter Text

Despite his best attempts to the contrary, Link didn't calm down until sunset, by which time he'd completely exhausted himself, and Dorian was bearing almost his entire weight. Mipha was sitting, unseen, on his other side, but the others had spread out and away for the illusion of privacy.

“Are you alright?” Dorian asked, voice soft. Link nodded silently. “May I ask what upset you so?”

Link's breath hitched, and he lifted his head to look at Dorian. He didn't get the chance to reply; Dorian gasped as soon as they made eye contact, and then, very gently, brought his fingers to Link's jaw and tilted his head up. For a moment, Link was confused, but then he felt a sting across his throat and remembered – the Yiga. Dorian must have noticed the shallow cut the blade had dug into it.

“What happened?” Dorian asked, hoarse and horrified. Link swallowed, then pushed himself back, miserable.

Y-i-g-a, he answered at last. Dorian inhaled sharply, and Link lowered his eyes, cheeks flushing with shame. A heartbeat passed.

“Let's get you somewhere warm,” Dorian said after a while. Confused, Link let Dorian help him stand, stumbling on slightly unsteady feet as Dorian led him towards, he eventually realized, the man's own home. Dorian glanced over and gave him a soft look. “You look exhausted, Master Link. I could take you to the inn if you'd prefer, but I thought you would feel better with a meal you didn't need to prepare yourself.”

Link swallowed and nodded meekly, unable to help the warmth that spread through his chest at Dorian's kindness.

“Mister Link!”

Koko was on him almost as soon as he was through the door, eyes wide with worry and fingers twisting into his tunic. It made Link jump badly at first, heart skipping a beat, but after a moment he settled enough to pat her shoulder reassuringly, reaching to do the same to Cottla when she caught up. Koko hung off of him, head craned to look up at him.

“Mister Link, Cottla said you were crying!” Koko blurted out, leaning into him. “She said you were really upset and wouldn't answer her! What happened? What's wrong, are you hurt, did you get scared? Cottla cries a lot when she gets scared! Can Koko help?”

Despite himself, Link laughed a little and reached down to ruffle her hair. He shook his head, and in truth, he already felt a little better; something about Kakariko was softening the raw edge of his nerves. He thought he wouldn't mind coming to stay here for a while, when he had... well, he thought he'd heard Mipha call it an episode, once or twice, when he got so overwhelmed that he needed help to calm down.

“Cottla, can you play nicely with Link for a while?” Dorian requested, coming in behind Link. “I'm going to help your sister make dinner tonight, since we have an unexpected guest.”

Cottla nodded so furiously that her head threatened to fall off, making Link chuckle softly, and then she grabbed Link's hand and dragged him over to the bookshelf. She took a book off and dumped it into his lap and begged him to read it to her, and he spent the next few minutes trying to explain to her that he couldn't while his friends laughed behind him. Even Revali was snorting inelegantly, watching Link try to negotiate silently with the little toddler, and Link couldn't help but smile too, tired but amused despite himself.

Finally he gave up, placed the book between them, and started signing. It took a few minutes to get the idea across to Cottla, but eventually she perked up, and he was able to point at a picture, sign its name, and wait for her to sign it back to him before moving on, effectively entertaining both of them.

“Wouldn't it be easier just to access his slate?” Revali muttered.

“He's probably too tired for it,” Mipha explained, just as quiet. “He's told me before that it can take quite a bit of concentration to use the communication rune fluently. Gestures and body language aren't as versatile, but they're easier for him.”

It was true; Link would probably be able to use the easier presets right now, the phrases Zelda or Sidon had recorded for him in full, but the idea of piecing a sentence together from scratch made him want to cry, his head pounding with a phantom ache. As it was, he was sore all over, and the simple little gestures he was using with Cottla felt about all he could manage.

Before long they ran out of pictures in the little book Cottla had brought him first, so she ran off and returned with another one, and then another, seeming to learn the signs nearly as fast as he could teach them to her. She seemed excited, and Link found himself smiling faintly.

They were still going when Dorian and Koko returned, Dorian bearing a large bowl of what looked like rice all mixed up with vegetables and some poultry. Koko was beaming, clearly proud of herself. As soon as she saw what Link and Cottla were doing, she darted over, looking intent on joining in. Dorian met Link's eyes and raised an eyebrow in question, and Link shook his head slightly.

“Girls, it's time to eat!” Dorian called out immediately, and Koko hopped back up with a cry and returned eagerly to the table. Cottla was right behind her, and Link followed at a slower rate, settling at the table as soon as Dorian waved for him to do so.

Thank you, Link signed, the next time his eyes met Dorian's. Dorian gave him a small smile in return, and when Koko made a questioning sound, he relayed it to her, leading to a peppering of questions throughout the rest of the meal.

Over the next few days, Link never quite got around to moving from Dorian's home to the inn; somehow, whenever he went out, Dorian or Koko always led him back for dinner and then he stayed the night, sleeping on a small rolled-out futon Dorian had brought from somewhere. He taught Koko a few more recipes, and both of them more than a few signs. Link's nerves eased out of their taut state, and the faint throb of his body calmed down too.

It felt... safe. Link decided that he wanted to remember- Kakariko felt safe, and the residents were all kind, and Paya stopped to talk to him in sign every time she passed him by. His friends started to relax too – Mipha spent time by the goddess statue in the pond, and Urbosa liked to watch the wetlands to the north, and Revali had found a shrine pedestal up past the fairy fountain, while Daruk liked Lantern Lake.

He was almost relaxed by the time a commotion woke him from a sleepy doze. It was Urbosa's expression that ushered him out of bed, though, and he went outside and found himself quickly at the foot of the stairs that led to Impa's home. He straightened, his muzziness falling away as he took in Paya, crying on the stairway with Cado sitting next to her, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly, and Dorian stiff and angry at the bottom.

“Ah?” Link called out inquisitively, lengthening his stride to reach them and drop down on Paya's other side. She only jumped a little, which showed just how rattled she was.

“L-L-L-Link!” she stammered, started to say something else, and broke down into tears again. In ragged sign, she said, I'm so sorry, the Sheikah heirloom- the legends said it would help you but- I took my eyes off it for a moment and it was gone! I'm so sorry!

It's alright, Link signed, as soothingly as he could. Are you hurt?

Paya sniffled and shook her head, her shoulders still shaking with tears and shame.

Link looked up, and his expression fell into a more neutral look as soon as he laid eyes on Impa, who was leaning heavily on a cane as she wobbled towards them.

“Link,” she said gravely. “I'm sorry that we must speak again under such circumstances, but I'm afraid that the situation is grave. Have you a moment to listen?” Without hesitation, Link nodded. “Paya has been working tirelessly to uncover the secrets of the Sheikah heirloom that has rested in my home for over a century...”

Link listened as Impa explained, frowning in concentration and one of his hands, he realized after a while, holding onto Paya's. The rest of the crowd dispersed rapidly after Impa's arrival, as if everything had been resolved already, though Link caught worried glances sent their way periodically. His friends spread out as well, watching the perimeter of the village, a perpetual reassurance just for Link.

“With all that in mind...” Impa said at last, looking exhausted, “could I trouble you to watch over my granddaughter this evening? She's always been quite prone to anxiety, and the events have made her understandably nervous. I believe that your presence would be a comfort to her.”

Paya squeaked softly in protest, but Link was already nodding.

So for the rest of the day, Link accompanied Paya about her business – buying groceries, cooking for her grandmother, cleaning the goddess statues and other stone figures about the village. He could tell that she was hurrying, uncomfortable and worried about inconveniencing him, but she also seemed a little relieved; every time she looked over her shoulder, her eyes found his, and she relaxed.

Eventually they ended up behind Impa's house, watching the waterfall, and Paya seemed a little calmer than she had that morning.

Thank you for staying with me, she said at last, and he hummed reassuringly. I know your time might have been better spent looking for the heirloom, but... She shrugged, and Link nodded. Paya bit her lip. But I fear the thief has not yet left the village. Please be careful. The Yiga Clan...

Link looked away, then stifled a yawn and looked back at her. I will. Do you feel better?

Paya nodded shyly, then hesitated. Can I ask you a personal question? Link cocked his head. Grandmother told me that you all but died. Are you... better now?

Link's breath caught. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. Finally, he shrugged again and nodded, and then, on impulse, reached up and pulled aside his collar a little, just enough to expose one broad patch of vicious scarring. Paya inhaled sharply.

Does it hurt?

Link hesitated again.

All the time, he said after a moment, a little easier every time he admitted it. Then, changing the subject, What do you think the heirloom was for? He hadn't noticed any such thing when he'd been here last; he was quite distracted at the time.

Even as Paya perked up and started to explain, Link let his mind wander. There weren't very many people in Kakariko Village, and he thought for sure that they'd notice a stranger, especially one who had gone into Impa's home...

Link followed three skittish, defensive Sheikah villagers before he finally found what he was looking for, and even then it was all but by accident; his friends were watching all of the exits while he spoke to Mellie and Lasli and Olkin, each with their own harmless little secrets. But it was Urbosa's voice that called out sharply from where she was watching the path out to Lanayru Road.

“Link! You'll want to look out for this one.”

Serious and intent, Link darted quietly up the path, and Urbosa, when she was in sight, waved him off the road and veering into the forest, toward, Link realized, the Sheikah pedestal Revali had found.

It wasn't until just before they reached the wooden bridge that Link caught up enough to see who Urbosa had spotted. It was Dorian; he must have found the thief himself, or perhaps just suspected their location. His sword was out, his hand clutched tightly around it, and he looked from side to side, stiff and wary.

“Show yourself!” Dorian shouted abruptly, making Link jump. And then something happened that stole Link's breath.

A Yiga man appeared, bigger and broader than any Link had encountered before, but with the same cold mask.

“No need to shout,” the Yiga man rumbled, audibly amused. “I'm right here.”

Dorian growled. Link was frozen, trying despite himself not to draw any attention at all. He could hear Urbosa shouting for the others, but all of his attention was fixated on Dorian and the Yiga.

With mounting horror, Link listened as the two of them spoke, a dangerous and acidic back-and-forth. They argued about agreements, and principles, and the consequences of leaving the Yiga clan. Dorian appealed on behalf of his daughters, of Paya and her innocence, Impa's age and wisdom; the Yiga spat venom about heritage and rebellion and duties to the clan. Dorian mourned his wife openly, apologized to no one, and appealed for his daughters again.

He listened to both of them speak as if Dorian was himself a Yiga. His stomach turned violently.

“But before I dispose of you,” the masked man said, and turned his head toward Link. Link flinched. “It appears we have an audience.”

Dorian turned too late, obvious horror overtaking his face as soon as he met Link's eyes. The Yiga laughed.

“So perhaps I can kill two birds with one sword,” he said brazenly, striding forward in arrogant steps. “You did tell us that he was weakened, did you not?”

Link saw red. His blood roared in his ears, and before the masked Yiga could take more than a couple steps toward him, he'd grabbed his ice spear out of his slate – a gift from Nayru that he'd been keeping in reserve – and launched himself forward. Dorian tried to step in, but Link snarled at him, a subvocal warning to stay back. Dorian obeyed.

It would have been a hard fight, if Daruk hadn't stepped in. The one strike that the masked Yiga landed cut deep into Link's shoulder, and he dripped blood down to his stomach, but Daruk was able to keep a few off of him when Link was too slow to dodge, putting himself between Link and his enemy with a shimmering, faceted shield. Link himself hit hard and quick, driving the spear as deep as he could manage and freezing chunks of the Yiga's body in chunks of ice. The Yiga's gloating arrogance melted into stony silence within the minute; in ten, Link had him on the ground, both hands frozen, and looked right at his mask as he drove the spear into his gut.

With an awful, burbling groan, the masked Yiga went limp.

Link's heart was still racing, and he couldn't look away. A sound made him jump, and when he looked up it was Dorian, trying to approach again with his hands raised in surrender. Link bared his teeth at him anyway, and Mipha ushered the others back, casting worried glances at Link.

“I'm sorry, Link,” Dorian said quietly.

Link pulled the ice spear free, put it away, stood up, and turned to face Dorian.

You told them that I'd woken up, he signed flatly. Dorian nodded.

I'm sorry, Dorian repeated, in sign this time. They killed my wife. They threatened my children, Paya, Impa. I felt trapped.

It wasn't enough for me to lose my memories, Link said, and dismissed Dorian's clear confusion out of hand. His ears were ringing. It wasn't enough to wake up with a broken body and a broken mind. It wasn't even enough for all my friends to be dead. There just fucking had to be more. You had to make sure I was being fucking hunted too!

Dorian's head dipped in shame, but all Link felt was the blaze of rage. His eyes were dry, which was perhaps the only surprise.

Do you know how hard it's been to pull myself together? Link demanded. His skin crawled. His hands were barely deft enough to keep up with the tirade. Dorian probably wasn't even catching all of it. I barely have time to heal as it is! I didn't fucking need to have to worry about every traveler that crosses my path! I don't want to stop talking to strangers because I'm scared they'll try and cut my head off! And you didn't fucking have to do this to me!

Dorian kept his head bowed. Link didn't know whether that made it better or worse. His chest felt tight again. For a long moment, silence hung between them. Finally, Link scoffed.

I'm leaving, he snapped. Tell the girls I'm sorry for not saying goodbye.

Dorian nodded silently, and Link thought that was the end of it. He was turning away when Dorian said, quiet and meek,

“Wait.” Link stopped. “This is a selfish request, but... can you keep today's events between us? The girls...”

Link nodded curtly, cutting him off. Dorian relaxed, clearly relieved.

“The heirloom is under that tree,” Dorian said quietly, indicating one of the older ones. “There is... a hollow, beneath it, for holding things. The heirloom will unlock the shrine here.”

Link grunted, went to pick it up, and dropped it impatiently onto the pedestal. Then, without even waiting for the shrine to finish rising, he took his Sheikah slate and warped away.

He landed on the sheltered shrine in the middle of Lake Hylia, sat down, and stared at the ground in silence.

“I'm sorry, Link,” Mipha said quietly, and Link nodded, reached up, and scrubbed away tears that wouldn't fall.

Chapter Text

“The blood moon rises once again. Please be careful.”

Panting heavily, Link lifted his head to the sky, watching the moon turn red. His face was flushed and hot from exertion, and he leaned hard on the rocks behind him. His clothes were damp with sweat.

I will, he promised silently, and then took one deep breath, two, and turned his head to look at Mipha. Lurelin and the Highland Stable today, the Bridge of Hylia and the road to the desert tomorrow, and a rest day after that?

Mipha broke into a wide, soft smile, eyes glittering with pride. That sounds perfect.

Link gave her a weary smile back, curled up in a crook of the rocks, and drifted as Mipha began to hum.

He'd been moving at a steady, determined pace since he'd so abruptly left Kakariko. First he'd gone looking for luminous stones, of which he'd found over thirty before he'd finally switched tracks. Then he'd started asking around for talus sightings, zig-zagging across the southern half of Hyrule in a deadly intent search for them. He'd probably cleaned out every town of all their normal arrows, plus Beedle's stock, and stolen more than a few sledgehammers as well.

He was five down now, and the bounty he'd gotten from them wasn't bad. After he cleared the roads again, he'd make sure to butcher and loot the monsters, and maybe that would bring him up to where he could properly buy the house from Bolson.

He'd been sleeping in Dorian's house for a week. Even knowing the man no longer meant him any harm, the thought made Link feel sick. He didn't want to have to depend on a stranger's kindness the next time he had an episode.

Sorry the trip to Death Mountain got delayed, he signed to Daruk, half-asleep. Daruk huffed something close to a laugh.

“Not your fault, little buddy. You do what you can.”

Some of the remaining tension eased out of Link's shoulders, and without another word, he fell asleep.

The next few days passed almost peacefully. The clearing and butchering of simple monsters had become almost routine, bokoblin being rather stupid and fragile creatures, and he was surprised and pleased to realize that at the end of it, he didn't feel that agitated at all. Sore, certainly, his muscles and skin both strained and aching, but he was pleased with himself and his work.

He changed into his Gerudo clothing and sold his new goods in Gerudo Town – Isha was visibly delighted with the stock, more than happy to pay for the lot. Zayla insisted on giving him a check-up, but was apparently satisfied with what she saw, because she let him go without any further instructions.

Somewhat sheepishly, he visited the spa next and was greeted with a cheerful smile and a beckoning hand, encouraging him to come in.

It was days like this, he thought, that made him believe he really was making progress.

I think I'm doing well, he ventured, kneeling quietly in front of the goddess statue. Mauve wasn't around today, which was a shame, but he appreciated the quiet while he tried to think. I'm feeling better. There are good days and bad days, and I think there's as many of one as the other now. I'm... feeling more like a real person now.

“My goodness,” Bolson marveled, peeking inside the pouch at the cluster of glittering gold and silver rupees. “You really did come up with it, and in much less time than I expected, too.”

Link, all cleaned up from his labors, beamed brightly at him, and after a moment, Bolson laughed aloud, reached out, and ruffled Link's hair. When he brought his hand away again, it was stained green. Link perked up, surprised and pleased.

What's your color? he asked, then reached up to his hairline where Bolson had touched him, wishing he could see it. Bolson blinked at him, looking down at his hand and then back up again, visibly bemused, and then smiled again a little softer and tucked his hand in his pocket.

“Well, ain't that a hell of a thing,” he murmured.

“It's pink,” Mipha told Link. “Rose, a little darker than his headband.”

Link clicked his tongue twice, pleased, and Bolson leveled a thoughtful look at him, which lingered for a few moments before he spoke again. “Me and my workers do furniture too, what do you say I give you a list? If you have a little extra on you, you can get a few now.”

Link nodded quickly, pleased and excited, and Bolson chuckled before sitting down, inviting Link to sit with him, and starting to write.

Link had enough extra on him for quite a few things, if he wanted, but there was that fairy fountain he was looking for – he'd need rupees for that as well. After some careful thought, he settled on asking for a door, a bed, lighting, a sign with his name, and some trees nearby, that last with only a little bit of wistful embarrassment. Bolson grinned at him, though, and promised to get right to work. Link shrugged and smiled shyly.

“No hurry,” he said stiltedly. “I'm traveling. Monsters. Stables. Shrines. This is for rest.”

Bolson hummed sympathetically. “Well, you make sure you come back, alright? No going to the castle and disappearing on us.”

Link's smile vanished, a chill running down his spine. He didn't reply.

As a gift, Bolson also let him keep the cooking pot just outside the house, and Link cooked both him and Karson some crab stir-fry as thanks, which both of them seemed delighted by. They dug in without hesitation, and he ate only a little slower, pretty pleased himself with how it had turned out.

“So where did you go?” Karson asked, pausing in his meal. Link tilted his head. “You've been traveling a while now, right? Where've you been since we last saw you?”

Bolson glanced up as well, and with only a little hesitation, Link tapped out, “Zora's Domain.”

Both men made appropriately impressed sounds.

“I've heard the road up there is a doozy,” Bolson remarked. Link nodded. “You must be a dab hand with a sword, hm? Or very good at sneaking.” But his eyes lingered on the sword on Link's back, and Link gave him a small smile and didn't reply. Bolson snorted. “Keep your secrets, child. Where to next?”

“Akkala,” Link answered promptly. “Great Fairy Fountain. Hudson. Tech lab.”

Bolson whistled. “Best of luck there. I've heard mighty intimidating tales from that neck of the woods.” Link hummed. “And let us know if you see Hudson! I'd like to know he's arrived safe.”

Link nodded reassuringly.

After they ate, Link went into the house to take a first look around. It was bare for the most part, which he didn't mind; there was a hollow under the stairs that looked comfortable, and an upstairs loft with a window. There was a weapon display on one wall, a stable to one side, and a shed around the back. The door to that last was stuck; Link would try and pry it open another time.

“A little sparse, but it'll be a place to sleep that's not out in the open,” Urbosa commented, and Link hummed in pleasure and nodded.

From Hateno, Link returned to the shrine he'd set out for Akkala Tower from and set off up the path again. He didn't talk to any of the travelers he passed by.

“You're not going back to the tower, are you?” Revali asked dubiously, and Link flinched and shook his head quickly, making a gesture to the left. “Left- ah, your overly burdened friend was headed for a stable in that direction.”

Link snorted and nodded. Akkala would be a little harder to tackle without a map, but the idea of going back to the citadel made him sick. Daruk had promised he was familiar with the area; he could go without.

He walked a little slower this time, stopping often. He sat by the road and ate an apple, or dangled his legs off the cliff to look out over the mountains. He took a right into Akkala and a left past the tower, and winced when it started to pour rain down on him. It was dark before Daruk finally made out the outline of the stable and pointed it out, and Link ducked gratefully inside; he'd get the shrine nearby overnight.

“Now there's a face I wasn't expecting to see!”

Link started a little and looked over at Beedle, who he had – apparently mistakenly – assumed would be long gone by now. Still dripping wet and achingly sore, Link tilted his head in question before he took twenty rupees from his tablet and offered them to the stablemaster, who accepted with a weary smile.

“Your timing is just right!” Beedle said cheerfully, apparently reading his confusion. “I'm just coming down from East Akkala Stable, and I don't have any more arrows for you, friend, but you should take a look anyway!”

Link gave him a weary nod and dropped down beside him, leaning back against the wooden support, and shrugged off Beedle's concern to lean over and look at his wares. They traded quietly, same as usual. Beedle was surprised that Link didn't have many new monster parts for him, and Link shrugged off his curiosity too. Then one of the stable residents, Jana, came and inserted herself, asking why Link was there, and Link explained about Hudson, leaving off the fairy fountain this time. To his surprise, Jana brightened.

“Oh, Hudson! Odd fellow. Yes, he passed through here a while back and headed to Akkala Lake. He said something about... building a village?”

Link and, to his surprise, Beedle both perked up with interest, and then looked at each other. Link tilted his head, and Beedle smiled sheepishly, shrugging.

“I don't get to see many new settlements,” he said cheerfully. “People don't often try. Are you planning on going that way? I've never liked taking new routes by myself.”

The heavily implied invitation made Link smile, and he nodded.

They set off early in the morning, pleased to find that their idea of a good schedule lined up well. This ended as soon as they hit the first large field. Link felt strongly that this was not his fault; Beedle disagreed.

“This is why you travel alone, isn't it?” Beedle wondered aloud, leaning against a tree while Link worked. Link barely refrained from sticking his tongue out at him. “How do you get anywhere, Link?”

He still sounded fondly exasperated, not truly frustrated, so Link ignored him, kneeling by a small patch of earth where there were some truffles, and a hearty radish, some armoranth- he would have to remember this field; it was rich with life, and just down the hill from South Akkala Stable and the shrine there. His sleeves were pushed up, his arms dirty halfway up to his elbow, and he wondered if he could suggest the area to Nat and Meghyn after all. The sky was dark with rainclouds, and Link could feel it in his bones, but it was almost worth it for a harvest like this.

He had just spotted a ruin and started to make his way toward it when a shiver ran down his spine, and Daruk called out in panic, “Link!”

“Ten o'clock!” Revali shouted, more helpfully, and Link turned, and then scrambled to his feet, fumbling for anything, his slate, shield, anything. Beedle, weighed down his backpack, struggled to do the same, but he was slow. Too slow. Link's heart raced.

There was a guardian scuttling towards them, towering and intent. It wasn't bound to the ground, one of only a few fully mobile machines that Link had encountered. Its footsteps seemed to shake the earth. It was massive, and it moved like a spider, all of its legs in rapid synchrony, fluid and efficient. Its eye was- its round, glowing eye was-

The red dot of its targeting laser waving wildly across the ground before fixing on Beedle- Beedle? Goddess, his backpack, a bigger target- Beedle was babbling in fear, scrambling backward, and... everything slowed down.

He grabbed his bow. He stepped in front of Beedle. He raised it. He nocked the arrow Beedle had given him. He aimed.

His hands were trembling; it made his aim unsteady. He waited. Waited. The guardian scuttled closer. The sound of voices was a wordless roar in his ears, drowned out by his rushing blood and the ringing tinnitus.

He took a deep breath, let it out, and let the arrow fly. It plunged deep into the guardian's terrible, enormous eye, and he felt sick with relief as it collapsed to the ground, all of its lights dimming to nothing. Its whirling and clicking stopped, and so did its alarm.

Link's knees felt weak, and his legs folded under him. He gasped for breath, shaking badly, and felt tears of terror sting his eyes. Oh Goddess, oh Hylia, oh Goddess-

“Another one on the way!”

Daruk's bellow had Link rolling away on instinct, and the second guardian's beam missed him by less than a foot. Beedle was scrambling, frantic with terror, but he wasn't running away for some reason and the guardians were fast, Link knew, and neither of them could outrun them, and he only had the one of the odd arrow Beedle had given him. His mind was blank and hollow with fear, and his chest ached. His skin throbbed.

It was in this state of mind that his hand moved, grabbed the ancient battle axe he'd been saving, and threw himself forward with a hoarse scream.

His foot dug into the ground. He turn on his heel. He swung. The axe cut through one of the guardian's legs. He rolled. He got to his feet. He braced himself. He swung.

The axe cut through the guardian's shell like nothing else could have, but each wound was still shallow, thin, not seeming to affect it at all. It kept its eye on him, targeting and screeching. Once he was too slow to avoid its attack, and it caught him full in the chest and threw him backward, sending him rolling. He tasted mud, dragged himself upright, and threw himself at it. His shoulders screamed with strain, and the side where he'd taken the hit, heavily buffered by the circlet's magic.

He got deep into its guts, his knuckles scraping the casing when he dug into the guardian, before it whined loudly and stopped whirring. And even then, it took him almost a minute to realize what had happened, and then what it meant.

Finally, Link's numb fingers let go of the battle axe, and he tumbled unceremoniously to the ground, which was what it took for him to realize that he'd climbed on top of it. His whole body hurt, ranging from deep bruises to deep shrapnel cuts to burns and the constant pulsing throb of his scarred skin, and blindly, irrationally, he scrambled away from the fallen guardian, panting for breath that didn't reach his lungs. His ears were still ringing.

He tried to catch his breath, staring wide-eyed at the crumpled carcass of the machine. Couldn't. His lungs wouldn't expand, he couldn't breathe deep enough, his head was spinning.

Here we go again, he thought dimly, and pressed a hand against his chest, like that would fix it, or stop his heart from racing. He couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something bearing down on him. Like the sky would fall and crush him. Like there were more machines on their way, beeping and searching for him. His heart was going to beat out of his chest and flop wetly onto the ground.

A thought occurred to him suddenly, and, ignoring Beedle entirely, he sat up just enough to look around, wide eyes searching until they landed on Daruk, kneeling worriedly beside him, because Daruk was the best at calming him. Link met his eyes.

I can't breathe, he told Daruk, helpless and terrified. Help me.

Daruk's expression instantly turned calmer, and he sat down cross-legged and said something. When he saw that Link wasn't hearing him, making out nothing more than the splash of sound against his ears, he held up a hand instead and counted on his fingers. One, two- Link inhaled too quickly, too quick for the count, his lungs wouldn't expand his lungs were full, but Daruk stayed slow and calm. Five, four- Exhale. One, two, three- In. Five, four- Out.

Link didn't know how long they sat there, but he knew that eventually, he started to hear Daruk's voice, counting alongside his fingers. He was breathing again. His head pounded.

“-mangy pile of rotten scrap, piece of ass scratched up hunk of wrecked shitstains-!”

...Was that Beedle?

Blearily, Link sat up and squinted at Beedle, who was pacing in obvious agitation, swearing like a Gerudo sailor. He happened to catch Beedle as he was turning, and their eyes met. Beedle froze, went still, and then coughed, face turning bright pink.

Exhausted, Link collapsed back against the tree behind him and laughed shakily, twisting into a groan halfway through.

Daruk let out an obvious sigh of relief.

After a long and awkward moment, Beedle came up and tentatively sat beside Link. He didn't seem in a hurry to move on, which was good; Link's whole body felt heavy and leaden, and bruised and achy and burning where there were deep cuts. Instead, he seemed to be watching Link, face heavily creased and uncertain.

The sun was high in the sky; it was definitely past noon. Link wondered just how long they'd been there.

“Why didn't you run?” Beedle asked at last, quietly. Link blinked at him, too out of it to parse that much, and reached up to rub his face. Then he pointed at Beedle's backpack, so heavy the man could barely walk, forget running. Beedle laughed, just as shaky as Link's had been, and looked away. “Ah, don't say that. No reason for it to keep us both from getting away.”

Link only rolled that over for a minute before he discarded it, leaning back against the tree and closing his eyes.

“...You're a good friend, Link,” he heard Urbosa say quietly.

Eventually, Link stirred enough to eat, offering Beedle some food as well. Well past the time they should have managed to reach Akkala Lake, they were moving again, slow and ginger. Revali was circling overhead, and every so often Link glanced up to make sure he was still there. He'd seemed to take the surprise attack rather personally.

Mipha stayed right next to Link, step for step; he almost could have reached out and held her hand.

Link loved his friends. Very much.

“I didn't know anyone could kill those monsters,” Beedle said, when they stopped on the climb up the cliff path so that Link could rest and catch his breath. He seemed... uncertain, after their encounter, in a different and less paranoid way than Link might have expected. In reply, Link just grunted, and after a while, they kept going.

They stopped again. Beedle sat down beside Link and pushed up his sleeves to bandage some of the injuries he'd taken – deep cuts, mostly, from being careless with the sharp edges of the cut metal. They were on his legs too; Beedle tackled those next, winding clean strips of cloth around them while Link watched. Link took a healing potion, and most of them improved, some healing over entirely.

“Link,” Beedle asked after a while, “have you fought those things before?”

Too exhausted to dodge the question, Link nodded.

Beedle didn't ask any more questions after that, and by the time they reached the outcropping that reached into the heart of Akkala Lake, it was night. Hudson, Link could see, was still working steadily anyway, hammering away at some rocks clogging up the edge. He turned to them as they approached, and waved. If he was surprised, he didn't show it.

Link lifted an arm and waved back.

Chapter Text

In his own way, Hudson was clearly delighted to show Link around the house he'd built for himself above Lake Akkala. Link was genuinely impressed, too; it looked as beautiful and polished as any of the ones in Hateno, and Hudson must have built it all on his own, entirely in the time since he'd arrived, which couldn't possibly have been too long ago. Link could easily believe that Hudson had wanted to do this for a very long time; both he and Bolson had couched it as a business venture, but- well, Bolson and Karson weren't here, were they?

Beedle poked around the rocks, clearly lost as Link and Hudson signed back and forth, which Link felt a little bad about. But he seemed interested, and more than once Link caught him eying the surrounding area speculatively, as if he were gauging its suitability as a population center.

Every village needs a name, Hudson signed carefully, drawing Link's attention back to him. His eyes were bright in a way his body language didn't quite get across. I think I'm gonna call it-

He hesitated, and Link gave him an indulgent look and tapped his own lips. Hudson didn't really need Link's permission to speak, but some people were polite.

“I think I'll call it Tarrey Town,” Hudson said out loud, and he was smiling, just a little bit. Link smiled back, warm and sincere.

Good idea, he signed back encouragingly, looking around the island himself. It was cluttered with rocks, but those could be broken; it had a decent surface area. It would never be a large town, but it could be a modest and close community, and it would be difficult for monsters to approach, especially if they built a gate. Can I help?

Well. Hudson hesitated, and Link nodded encouragingly. We're kinda low on supplies. Link gestured for him to go on, intent and focused. Wood, mostly. You get me wood, I can do the rest. Ten bundles would probably do it. Got a lot already.

Link gave him a broad, bright smile.

Done, he said with confidence.

In the middle of the night, Link woke up and couldn't bring himself to go back to sleep, heart still racing. He paced for a while, trying his best not to wake either Beedle or Hudson. He stretched, slow and ginger and biting down protests. He looked out over to the waterfall for a while, then at the different deposits of luminous stone, and finally the shrine just over the way – he thought there might be a road up that way. He thought of the village Hudson wanted to build, and all the resources that it would nestle among.

There was also something glowing, very faintly, in the forest off the lake. After a moment, he turned his head away and started on the thin ridge off of the rock island, heading back to the cliff. Then he turned right and wove his way toward it.

The only one of his friends to join him was Daruk, smiling down at him with a touch of sympathy. “Can't sleep, little brother?”

Link shrugged and then shook his head, then pointed at the forest. Daruk cocked his head and glanced over.

“Never been there,” he admitted cheerfully. “Didn't get off Death Mountain much.”

Link hummed, and then said, I don't want to leave without Beedle, but I don't think I'm going back to sleep.

“Mining song's all yours,” Daruk murmured, and then he was gone again. Link smiled to himself.

Before he reached the forest at the high edge of the lake, something flashed in Link's sight. He jerked up, eyes wide, and followed it down into the distant horizon. He was smiling before he truly registered it – a shooting star.

Make a wish, Link, someone murmured in his ear, a soft and affectionate voice – not Mipha's, but-

Something flashed again, and then a column of light, so faint and ethereal that it could have been Link's imagination, rose from the horizon, near where the flash had ended. Like a trail of particles, dancing in the air very far away.

Excitement stole Link's reason away, and without thinking, he changed course and ran – up the road and over the hill, which would take him further, maybe to where he could better see where the light was coming from. He didn't make it halfway up before suddenly all his friends were there, varying shades of confused and concerned.

“What is it, what did you see?” Revali demanded, bristling. Link pointed up ahead, but Revali looked, and it was clear he didn't see anything. He scowled. “Don't pretend you see anything I can't, brat.”

Link dismissed the question out of hand and kept running, and even without knowing where he was going, his friends stayed by him, never far from arm's reach, Mipha laughing soft and musical. Two, three, four times Link tripped and fell and tumbled, his hands and feet clumsy and heavy, and every time he just drank a stamina potion, rolled back onto his feet, and kept running.

For no reason in particular, the rush of wind through his loose hair and the pound of boots on the ground, his eyes on the light in the distance, Link was laughing.

Eventually, he slowed from a dead run and drank another stamina potion, but his eyes were bright and his mood was high. The column of light was getting closer, glittering in the atmosphere.

“Now are you going to tell us what you saw?” Urbosa asked, dubious and hiding her concern. Link hummed noncommittally.

I don't know, he said.

“You don't know?” Revali demanded, before he'd even finished. “Then what the devil were you running for, you insufferable-”

I saw something bright.

“You saw something shiny!” Revali squawked with outrage. Mipha was laughing again.

Link nodded shamelessly, rolling his shoulders with a wince. He didn't know how to explain that it felt important, this light in this distance – like it was special. Like the glow that Farosh gave off, the electricity that rolled off of her – like her, the light had presence. He wanted to find it.

It was barely past the witching hour, he was freezing cold as he walked, the injuries from the day before stung and ached, and he wanted to find that light. (It felt right, like so many parts of his journey had.)

It was nearly dawn by the time he found it, just north of what Mipha said was Ulria Grotto. He was lucky that it hadn't tumbled into the massive cavern below. It was a glowing point of light, like a star fallen to earth; as Link approached the light melted away, and the most delicate little gemstone tumbled down the hill, away from the edge. Link walked up to it, knelt down, and cupped it in his hands, his loose hair falling down just past his shoulders.

It was beautiful.

The little thing still cast off a faint glow, filling his cupped hands like a tiny little lamp. It glimmered, too, even more than a diamond did, its shape made of so many facets that he couldn't even begin to count them. It looked like nothing more than-

“A fallen star,” Urbosa said, soft with wonder. He grunted without looking up, wide eyes on the stone in his hands. “It's a fallen star – or a star fragment, if you'd rather. The odds of finding one are...” She trailed off. “They're legendary.”

She sounded reverent. It was easy to forget how much the Gerudo prized beauty and enchantment both.

Delicately, Link reached down to his Sheikah slate and set the fallen star on the surface, and then let it fall through, into the slate's inventory. It appeared immediately. A star fragment.

Link smiled softly down at it, and then stood up.

His Sheikah sensor went off. He paused, and then looked curiously down into the cavern below, full of steps and updrafts and treasures.

Navigating Ulria Grotto was tricky – it required a lot of climbing and falling and concentration, all of it hard on his body, but he got into Ke'nai Shaka's shrine, took the test of strength in stride, and went back out again; they were getting easier as he kept taking them. It was well morning by then, and Link felt a little bad about leaving Beedle without a word, especially after the events of the day before. So, at a run, he headed for the nearer shrine, the one he'd seen from so far away, and then jumped off and grabbed his paraglider.

It was a rush of wind and his own pounding heartbeat, and it had Link laughing before he'd managed to land back on the rock island, tumbling a little to break his fall. Beedle, who had clearly been just about to leave, blinked at him. So did Hudson.

Link sat up, pushed his loose hair out of his face, and said cheerfully, I couldn't sleep. Then he rubbed his shoulder, wincing.

Beedle and Hudson exchanged a look of perfect understanding. Hudson turned back to the rocks. Beedle offered Link a hand up. Link accepted it, yawned as he was pulled to his feet, and rubbed his eye with one fist.

Beedle started scolding Link for disappearing almost as soon as they hit the road – you could have fallen into the lake, Beedle said – and it had Revali cackling meanly and Link mostly tuning it all out, looking over his shoulder as they turned away from the forest. He felt a pang of regret, and, almost as if he'd sensed it, Beedle paused.

“...Is there something back there?” he asked, with a tinge of doubt. Apparently not a lot of people settled in these parts. It figured.

Link shrugged and cast another wistful look back.

“You're ruining my whole schedule,” he scolded. Link shuffled his feet.

I can go back later, he said, abashed. He really hadn't meant this to take so long.

Beedle hesitated, clearly wavering, and then reached out and patted Link's shoulder. Link started, and Beedle grinned at him.

“I can take care of myself,” he said cheerfully, hiking his backpack up on his shoulders. “You go look around. Be careful on your way back out!”

Link blinked at him, and then beamed, waved, and turned back the other way. He hadn't ever gotten to look into the glowing forest, after all. Revali snorted and shook his head. “After all that fuss about meeting Beedle this morning...”

Link hummed, made as if to tie his hair up, and then winced at the pull of his shoulder and aborted. His loose hair made him oddly self-conscious, but he'd have to let it lie. He focused on the path instead, mentally noting all the ore deposits he could see along the cliffs and below the waterfall, and then looked ahead again. He could even gather the wood for Hudson.

So he ended the morning sitting cross-legged across from Great Fairy Mija, going over clothing and materials, and one enormous finger lingered thoughtfully over the diamond circlet he'd set down in front of him.

“This bears the magic of my sisters,” she said thoughtfully, nudging it. “I'm that they're well. But it will require six diamonds and a fallen star to enchant it again.”

Link blinked, and then deflated, disappointed. But one glance back down the path sent a shiver down his spine, and it was without real second thoughts that he tapped at his slate, released six diamonds and the fallen star from the night before, stared at the last for a long, lingering moment, and then offered them to Mija.

Mija studied him for a moment, expression oddly soft for such an enormous and ancient being.

“...You're young, aren't you, boy,” she mused aloud, and then, “Just this once, I can leave the hollow of the fallen star for you to keep. All I need is its magic.”

Link perked up and beamed at him, whistling his gratitude, and she chuckled quietly before reaching out, leaning down, and enchanting the diamond circlet... thoroughly. Mipha was blushing almost as brightly as Link was.

And Link got to keep the glass shell of the fallen star, fragile and lightless, but still, he thought, beautiful.

The magic of the diamond circlet swirled and wrapped around him, a presence that he could clearly feel, and that was worth more than anything he could hold in his hands.

The rest of the morning went just as well, Link thought. He gave Hudson the wood, and Hudson asked, as hesitant as if he wasn't sure Link would want to bother, if he could try to find a Goron who would be interested in helping – one whose name ended in 'son'. Link promised to do his best; he would be going to Death Mountain next anyway.

He returned to Dah Hesho's shrine to complete it, puzzling briefly over the glowing guardian part that was his prize, and then risked a brief return to Kakariko to handle the shrine he'd abandoned there, the one belonging to Lakna Rokee, which turned out to be a blessing anyway. Then he went back to Akkala Lake and headed east to look into the swirling peninsula he'd seen from up high, which turned out to be a shrine quest as well.

“Oh, by the goddesses,” Urbosa sighed, wearily eyeing the monsters that paced up and down the narrow sand bank, and privately, Link agreed. But he picked up the orb, considered the route ahead, and started walking. It tugged at his tight shoulders, but not so much he couldn't bear it; it was lighter than it looked.

That took him well into the evening, and when he was done, he set up camp right there outside Rutaag Zumo's shrine, laid down, and groaned quietly to himself. Then he rolled onto his stomach and hid his face in his arms. He was sore and achy all over, and exhausted from how little sleep he'd gotten the night before, and how busy he'd been, and he was tired and he wanted to sleep, but the sun hadn't even set yet.

“Link?” Mipha murmured in question. Link gestured vaguely to his body without looking up. “Ah. Then take your rest, Link. All of Hyrule will still be there in the morning.”

Link hummed vaguely, and then slipped off to sleep without even remembering to eat, like all he'd been waiting for was permission.

The walk up to East Akkala Stable was easy but long. He opened up Katosa Aug's shrine first; it was another apparatus, which he appreciated while the weather made him ache. He spent a few hours lingering at the stable, talking to the residents and passers-through, before he moved on, continuing north in the direction Beedle had indicated to him. He still had an old man who made ancient weapons to find, after all.

You said this man's name was R-o-b-b-i-e? Link asked, not hurrying to climb the hill. There were trees around, and rhino beetles, and lizards to pounce on. There were flowers and herbs and bushes. No reason to hurry.

“Most likely,” Mipha agreed, and then made a sign, a pointing finger swiped across her eyes, close to the signs for both guardian and death. “I'm afraid I never spoke with him much, so I don't know a lot about him. Mostly, I know that he and Purah were very close. I'm not at all sure why they separated after the Calamity.”

“Eh, trauma can do funny things to relationships,” Daruk said. “And what became of Hyrule after the guardians were loosed on it – that'd haunt any friendship.”

All of them fell silent for a while, grim and forbidding. Link picked an armoranth flower and gnawed on it uncomfortably. It was going to rain. He could see it in the sky, and more importantly, he could feel it. Akkala wasn't as bad as Faron, but he was starting to miss the desert.

Revali broke the silence when he returned from scouting ahead, still clearly miffed about the near-miss by Akkala Lake.

“I can't tell if any of them are active, but there's an uncomfortable number of guardian remains up ahead,” he warned. “Stay wary.”

Link nodded, growing serious, and dropped his shield to his forearm on the way up. But he didn't end up needing it.

“Oh, you don't want to go that way, dear,” someone said, and he looked over to see a kind woman, older but not elderly, giving him a wry smile. “Are you looking for the lab? My husband runs most of it, I can show you a safe way up – I'm afraid there's a decayed guardian planted along the path, and Robbie lost the energy to handle their ilk over a decade ago.”

Link shot an anxious look up the path, and the woman gave him a sympathetic look and led him around.

“What business do you have with my husband, anyway?” she asked conversationally, picking her way through the corpses of guardians with a paper bag in her arms. Link followed along behind and grunted discontentedly. “Not chasing any rumors, are you?” Link shook his head. “You're awful quiet.”

Link grunted again, mildly annoyed. It wasn't his fault his hands were occupied; the piles of old tech were rather unstable. His attention on the unmoving broken-down guardians, he didn't notice in time when the woman abruptly turned around and grabbed his wrist firmly.

She started to say something, but Link didn't hear her, his ears ringing. On pure instinct, he twisted his wrist and jammed his elbow into her side, forcing her to let go with a gasp, and he scuttled away. In moments, he'd darted up a tree, and one of his hands was white-knuckled around his spear, ready to pull it out and swing.

The woman was looking at his hip. Link scooted further away, heart beating like a rabbit's for... no particular reason, it felt like. She'd just startled him.

“...Is that a Sheikah slate?” she asked faintly. “Is- is your name Link?”

Link bit his tongue, glancing over his shoulder. There was a large valley to his left; he could sail down there if he jumped out of the tree. A couple of monsters in it, but not too many. Nothing he couldn't deal with in his own time. He looked at Urbosa, down below, and she shrugged, pursing her lips. She didn't recognize the woman, but she wasn't certain they were a Yiga, either.

“You should come in, if you're Link,” the woman said, only just loud enough to hear. “Robbie has been waiting for you for a very long time.”

Link hesitated for a couple moments longer, and then, reluctantly, let go of his spear and crept back down the tree. His shoulder was throbbing again; he'd been rough with it when he climbed. The woman waited at the base, brow furrowed and anxious, and from higher up, he could see that the paper bag had machine parts in it, with the odd, matte look of guardians.

He stayed back for a minute, wary of coming closer, but Mipha disappeared up the hill and then returned all at once.

“Robbie is in there,” she said, soft and reassuring. “It's definitely him.”

Link thought of the arrow that had destroyed the guardian in one strike. He let go of the tree.

“That's it,” the woman murmured, and beckoned him onward. And Link followed her toward the lab. “Robbie, look sharp! You'll want to see who's come!”

She pushed the door open, and Link caught it, looking around as they went inside. There was a short Sheikah man sitting at a desk, and guardian parts on shelves. There were pictures pinned up on the walls, and rows and rows of books, and a diagram of a Sheikah tower. There was also an odd machine, distinctly un-guardian-like, in the middle of the room.

“Robbie!” the woman repeated patiently. The man sighed and turned around, looking irritable. That only lasted as long as it took his goggles to find Link, and then he froze.

There was a lingering, awkward pause, and then, all at once, Robbie was on his feet and scampering toward Link, goggles zooming in like a lizard's. Link wavered uncomfortably, glancing at Mipha for reassurance, and she just gave him a helpless shrug, amusement playing across her face.

“Hm? Hm! Hm?” Robbie's goggles zoomed in further. Link stepped back. “Is that you, Link?” Link nodded. “Hm! Hm? If you are Link, I would have something important to tell you, but how could I be sure?” Link tilted his head wearily. Robbie grunted. “Hm! If you showed me the scars on your body from a hundred years ago, then I would be sure.”

Link suppressed the urge to groan, and with effort, he tugged at the buckles of his tunic, undoing them one by one. With a hiss he couldn't bite down, he finally pulled it over his head, and Robbie's wife inhaled sharply. Robbie just nodded.

“Yes- the wounds have healed, but the scars line up with what I remember. You are indeed Link.”

Link didn't answer, holding himself stiffly. His head was spinning, like the newest spike of pain had triggered some other damned malfunction in his body. His vision prickled. Halfway through Robbie's next sentence, he sat down hard, and Robbie stuttered to a stop. Link barely noticed.

“Link, is something wrong?” Mipha asked, only a few moments before Robbie did.

Sorry. Lightheaded, he answered shortly, closing his eyes. It took another minute to pass, and then he exhaled and sat up again, looking at Robbie. What were you saying?

Robbie looked unnerved. “What was that?”

Link clicked his tongue, unfairly impatient. Hurts. It's rainy here. What did you have to tell me.

Robbie stared at him for a moment later, and then looked away. “I'm impressed that you were able to make it to this remote location. I was originally intended to be the last resort point of contact. Have you spoken to Impa and Purah?” Link nodded. “Then you are aware of what must be done?”

Link grunted softly. Yes. Soon.

“As soon as possible,” Robbie agreed seriously. “Have you begun to free the Divine Beasts? That must be your very first step, Link.”

Link sighed heavily, and, still sitting down with his tunic in his lap, started to explain, again, why he wasn't ready yet.

Chapter Text

“I'm afraid this is the best I can do for you,” Robbie said heavily, like Link wasn't staring at the three ancient arrows like they were made of gold. “Cherry- ah, the ancient oven, that is, has been out of commission for over a year now, and these old joints aren't what they used to be.” He shrugged. “There was a time when I could craft every one of these items by hand. But not anymore.”

Link gave him the start of a weary smile, but his gaze was drawn inevitably back to the arrows, his fingers rolling them delicately between them. He could feel his friends watching him, but couldn't bring himself to care.

Robbie, seeming to become uncomfortable, muttered under his breath, “Shouldn't have given that young peddler one of them, what was that frail little twig going to do with it-”

No, it's... okay, Link said at last, after he set the arrows in his lap. Beedle gave it to me, I... used it. Only yesterday. He shrugged at Robbie's startled look, a little uncomfortable himself. A friend of mine is starting a village above Akkala Lake. Beedle and I passed through it, and the fields to the west had...

For once, he could feel the panic starting to take hold of him before it truly had, and he shook himself and rolled his shoulders uncomfortably, trying to throw it off.

I handled it, he said at last. They should still be there. If I... went and took them apart, would I be able to get more of these?

He tapped the arrows gently, and then, with care, placed them into his Sheikah slate. Robbie stared at him, and then snorted, leaning back against the wall.

“I should have known better than to doubt you,” Robbie said, and Link actually couldn't decide how he felt about that. “Yes, if you took down two guardian stalkers in their entirety, there will almost certainly be enough components for at least one more ancient arrow, perhaps two or three if you're very lucky. There will also likely be one or two parts in any discarded guardian you pass as well. In time, you could have a whole arsenal of my special anti-guardian weapons!”

Link smiled faintly. That did sound comforting.

You've really been working on those all this time? he asked after a while. He could tell the question both startled and flustered Robbie, who apparently hadn't been prepared to be called out on his kindness.

“...Not really,” Robbie muttered. “Most of these were developed in the first fifty years. Got too old to keep taking down guardians after that, and...” He shrugged. “No new parts. No new research.” He clicked his tongue irritably. “I should have thought about looking into medicine. We didn't know lynel shit about the shrine's limits.”

Link shrugged. As far as he'd gathered, when the Calamity was looming, everyone had taken a bunch of risks they hadn't wanted to take. Most of them hadn't paid off. ...How do you live with that guardian outside your house?

Robbie wrinkled his nose. “What does it matter? I know it's there, it can't move for shit and it won't shoot me through the walls. I take the back way out and the back way in, and don't tell anybody where I live so no one walks up the front path.” Link kept staring at him. “What? You're not scared of the old rust bucket, are you?”

Terrified, Link said honestly. I don't think I'd be able to sleep here.

There was a long, stifling moment of silence, and then Robbie sighed. He looked tired.

“It's been a hundred years, Link,” he said heavily. “At this point, I've lived longer in this post-Calamity world than I ever did in thriving Hyrule. My wife never lived in a time when our castle was free of that monster. And that guardian has always watched my front door.”

...Are you mad? Link asked. Because I didn't stop it?

Even before he finished, Robbie was shaking his head.

“No one has ever been angry at you for that, Link. There's no man on Earth that could've taken that monster alone, and that was never supposed to be what happened. And I am thankful that you had the good sense to retreat.”

Link smiled a little, and wasn't sure what it did to his face except that it was melancholy and slightly painful.

“It's not like Robbie to be this thoughtful, you know,” Urbosa said quietly. “I think that... perhaps he's thought about you often very over the years. I expect he, Purah, and Impa all have. Goddess knows they've had time.”

Link tried to imagine a time before everything was in ruins.

You have my mark on your hands, he said . To his surprise, Robbie smiled a little.

“Yes, I'm sure you've had time enough to see your own color by now. You certainly bear enough new marks to make one think you've lived a full life already.” He gestured, and Link glanced down at his body. He was wearing his tunic again now, still damp from the rain he'd waited out to bring the torch through, but he knew by heart all the marks he'd gathered in the last two months.

Two months. Had it really been so long?

“Purah and I had to undress you when we placed you in the shrine,” Robbie continued, drawing Link's attention back to him. He wasn't smiling anymore. “It was the first time we had ever made contact with each other.” He gestured again, this time just showing off his green-marked palms, vivid as if he'd dipped them in pigment. “I do believe these are the darkest marks I have.”

Oddly enough, Link understood. He resisted the urge to look around the room.

Had Robbie truly thrown his entire life off course for Link, after the Calamity? It certainly appeared to be the case.

Thank you, he said, without expanding on it. He thought Robbie understood anyway.

Link dropped into the Spring of Power from the north side.

Jana had mentioned it to him, but it had actually been Urbosa who guided him most of the way there. It had been Urbosa who recognized the picture too; she'd admitted that she had accompanied Zelda here a few times.

He didn't pace around right away; he did one swift circle of the spring, curious and uncertain, and then knelt at the base, soaking his knees, and closed his eyes to pray.

World-builder Din, golden goddess of power, I seek the strength of fire. To warm and protect all those I call my own, and drive away my enemies, to fuel my ambitions and to forge my path, and to consider no obstacle insurmountable.

(Link remembered-)

(“I pray to you, world-builder, and ask that you hear me, for I have come to this place of might to pledge myself to your creation. I will respect the land, the mountains and valleys, and treat it with kindness and charity, live in harmony with the earth, and devote myself to you, my goddess, my liege. So do I swear.”)

(Zelda's voice had been exhausted with repetition; he hadn't heard all of the words she said, but he had known them by heart himself, and it was easy to fill in what his sharp ears didn't catch. He had been worried about her. They had been there for hours.)

(And then Zelda had started crying.)

(She talked about how she had dedicated herself to her task, how she had prayed for help, how she had done everything she was told she needed to do to gain her power.)

(She had begged to know what was wrong with her.)

Link opened his eyes, shifted, and sat back to watch the goddess statue. It warmed with Hylia's light, but he only half heard her murmured instruction, and it quickly faded away. That was fine; he didn't have one of Dinraal's scales yet.

He looked down at his hand. Zelda's yellow had gotten a little brighter again.

“Little buddy?” Daruk prodded gently.

“Did you remember already?” Mipha asked.

Link nodded.

I've been here with Zelda, he said unnecessarily. Probably several times. She... tried very hard.

He looked up and met Urbosa's eyes.

I think I understand her better now than I did then, he added.

I expect so, she agreed, with clear melancholy. She nodded towards the actual entrance of the spring. Daruk went to look outside while you were distracted. You'll want to return the way you came instead. There are skywatchers.

For a fleeting moment, Link actually considered going that way anyway – he had the arrows now, and they made him feel a little braver. But sense reasserted itself. He had very few – five in total. He would need to be conservative with them, and if he could avoid conflict, that would be by far the smarter choice.

Then a thought occurred to him, and he smiled.

Soh Kofi next, he said instead, reaching for his slate and tapping through it. He pointed to a blank section of the map just adjacent to Akkala's, and Daruk's laugh contained nothing but the purest delight. Link smiled, and then entered the rune that would let him warp to Soh Kofi's shrine.

From there, it wasn't too far a walk to Foothill Stable, following Daruk's directions; that was good, because night had fallen and every once in a while stalfos would crawl out of the ground to try and drag him under. They shattered easily; Link marveled at the contrast between now and when he'd first dropped down from the Great Plateau, when he had been too exhausted and shaky to brush them off.

Despite the late hour, the stable's inhabitants had not yet gone to sleep. Gaile sold him a few fireproof potions, playing at offense when he brewed a few of his own as well, and Mayro told him all about a painting in the back of the stable, which the owner had made.

Link was still awake when all of the other inhabitants had gone to sleep, though, and after only a little while spent trying, Link rolled back out of bed and padded out to explore the area.

Daruk looked happy. He stared up at the mountain with soft, wistful eyes, and Link thought that he'd missed the place more than he'd ever mentioned. Link would try to spend a little time there, maybe explore the volcano a little bit so that Daruk had time. He had said that one of the photographs was taken somewhere on the west side of the mountain anyway.

The area around Foothill Stable was nice. There was a shrine nearby, high-stakes but not particularly difficult. There was a little tunnel that led out to the lake nearby, blocked by a lizalfos and a couple of fire chuchu; Link took care of all three, disliking their proximity to the stable, and then waded out into the water. There was a shallow rock formation just below the surface, almost like a path, and he looked around. On one end, there was a pile of rocks. On the other, there was a circle of stalagmites.

Link waded to the pile of rocks, hoisted one onto his shoulder with a wince, and took it to the stalagmites. It took three tries, but on the third he got it in, and a Korok popped into existence with a laugh.

“Ya-ha-ha!”

He clapped back three times, delighted, and nearly spun around before remembering he was calf-deep in water, and spinning would probably make him fall. He accepted the seed instead. He hoped he saw Hestu again soon; he was building up quite a few.

“How do you always know when something like that is a Korok ploy?” Mipha asked with some wonder. Link shrugged.

I don't, he admitted easily. Sometimes I just like them. It looked like fun.

Mipha hid a giggle, fond and warm. “Oh, that's so like you,” she sighed, and looked up the mountain. “I haven't been up Death Mountain, you know. It's quite inhospitable to Zora, and no one's yet developed the magic to make it safe.” She glanced at him, suddenly worried. “It might be quite uncomfortable for you.”

I have my sapphire, Link reassured her, and then looked at Daruk as something occurred to him. What's the difference between a fire guard potion and cooling magic?

“Basically what it sounds like,” Daruk said without missing a beat. “Fire guard is kinda like a filter. Like a sunblock elixir! It'll keep you from burning up, but it won't keep you from getting heatstroke. Plenty've folks have made that mistake, too, mind you.”

Link hummed quietly and looked up Death Mountain. He thought he could see a shrine a little further out over the lake, and he waded toward it while his thoughts drifted. After a while, he looked at Urbosa. Have you been here?

Urbosa smiled a little. “Once or twice. The springs at the base were quite popular among my Gerudo warriors, but I was also the only champion willing to visit Daruk in his hometown. Revali and Mipha have mentioned their issues...” She waved. “And you yourself always complained that the texture of the fireproof elixir made you want to scratch your skin off.”

Link stopped smiling. Urbosa did, too, when she registered why, concern starting to crease her face.

After a moment, Link rubbed the heels of his palms over his face, feeling unfairly exhausted by this information. Was it too much to ask that there be more than two or three regions that he could travel through comfortably?

There are flame guard clothes in Goron City, aren't there? he asked. Daruk nodded, looking... understandably anxious that Link would change his mind. I'll make getting those a priority then. Fireproof elixir will do for now.

Relief flooded Daruk's face. “Course, little brother. Should be plenty of loose deposits hanging around, you can pick up some gems on your way through the mines.”

Link smiled wearily, gave him a nod, and pulled himself out of the water to climb towards the shrine. He'd go to bed as soon as he was done.

Link dipped his fingers into the fireproof elixir, winced, and immediately went to the lake to wash it off.

“That bad, huh?” Daruk said ruefully. “No one's ever said anything to me.”

Link rolled his shoulders and grimaced. It's not... it doesn't hurt, it's not freezing or anything. It... He trailed off for a minute, trying to think how to describe it, and finally said, Sticking your hand into a boar's guts, that's gross, right? If you had to carry it around like that, you'd hate it, you'd start to hate everything about it. But it doesn't hurt or anything. It feels like that. He shrugged. I'll put it on when I actually need it, but I'm not wearing it any longer than I have to.

“Link has always had very acute senses,” Mipha reminded Daruk. “The sensation is probably a little exaggerated for him. I've never heard other Hylians mention it either.”

“Yes, well, it is disgusting, so on this one occasion Link is correct,” Revali muttered, and Link snorted.

Besides that, the lower end of the road to Goron Mountain was nice. Unable to resist the temptation, Link slipped into the hot spring at the maw, fully clothed, and cooed in delight at the heat, immediately dropping in deeper. It was nearly as good as going to Romah, soothing his body so completely that it was like pressing on a knotted muscle. He wiggled in to his shoulders and set his forehead against a rock, humming in pleasure.

“Yes, that's about the reaction my Gerudo have always had,” Urbosa said fondly, looking a little wistful as she regarded the water. “I- well, I suppose you have time. It's only been two months out of your six, hasn't it?”

He yawned and nodded, not looking up at her; his eyes stayed heavy lidded as he focused on the water, but after a moment, he conceded, A little over that.

Closer to ten weeks than eight, he thought, but he wasn't completely certain; time had gone hazy more than once. Still, it felt like a very long time to Link. But there were twelve months in a year, and he'd been alive for sixteen years. That was a lot of months. At the same time, it had felt like no time at all. To imagine that he had almost exactly twice as long again as he'd taken already was so difficult to conceptualize that he almost immediately gave up trying.

“Two months of memories,” Urbosa murmured. “Not much competition for a lifetime.”

Link shook his head and turned his face into the rock, rubbing his cheek against it. It felt nice, scraping gently against his skin.

“It feels like it's been another eternity,” Mipha said, echoing Link's thoughts. “So much has changed in that time.” Link hummed vaguely, and Mipha laughed a little. “For you most of all, hasn't it, Link?”

Link hummed again, and for a moment, they were quiet.

“What's your child's name, Daruk?” Mipha asked suddenly.

“Igneous,” Daruk said warmly. Mipha giggled. “Yeah, yeah- I've always been fond of stone names, was a little bitter I didn't get one myself. Came up with the name before I ever chipped the boy off my back.”

Link's mind provided the explanation with a languid sort of laziness; Gorons had children by chipping some of the stone off their back, and putting it into a fire pit until it hatched. The image nearly made him chuckle.

“You had a kid, didn't you, Revali?” Daruk added. “A daughter, right?”

Revali grunted. “Yes. One little hatchling, Thistle, just beginning to leave the nest when...”

He cut himself off, and no one followed it up.

Link's eyes popped open before he consciously registered what had startled him, and then he was pulling himself out, turning to face the path forward. Mipha was on her feet in an instant, the others not far behind as they reacted to his alarm.

“What is it, Link?”

Link wasn't sure, but there was a rumbling sound coming from ahead, like the grinding of a talus. Link grabbed his bow and an arrow and then crept forward. He thought he could hear someone screaming too.

“Ga-ga-G-GUARDIAN! IT’S A FUCKING-!”

Link's blood froze, and there was an instant, just an instant, where he was caught between two instinctive reactions: the one to the hysterical scream, or the one to the scrape of guardian claws against the stone. He took a step back, and a man came skidding around the corner, speed clearly enhanced by an elixir, and still not quite fast enough to escape the guardian targeting his back.

It was muscle memory to reach down, take the right arrow from his slate, and fire. The guardian collapsed to the ground, shuddering for only a few moments before it ground to a halt. The man stumbled over his own feet, tripped, and started sobbing. Link kind of felt like joining him.

Link wavered on his feet, and then dropped to his knees beside the man, making soft shushing sounds, as reassuring as he could, his heart still racing painfully in his chest.

Chapter Text

It was nearly an hour before Link continued on up the mountain. He guided Dayto further back down the trail and sat with him by the springs until he'd calmed down, and didn't realize until Dayto was leaving that he'd regained his equilibrium as well.

He took the guardian apart, getting better about it now that he was doing it for the third time. There was something satisfying about tearing about that shell and ripping out its insides.

Eventually, of course, Link set out up the path again, making his slow way up. He'd gotten an ice rod from a wizzrobe too close to Foothill Stable, and that was good for the fire keese; he took his time gathering their wings and eyes, and carefully gathered up all of the remains of the fire chu he detonated as well.

The air got hotter as he climbed further up the trail, and he knew that he couldn't put off applying the serum forever. He wasn't looking forward to it, but for Daruk-

He hauled himself up, and was met with a wave of glowing lava, pools of it puddled all over the shelf, and a horrible wave of searing heat like a hammer to the face. Naturally, he felt it all the way down his body, a shuddering ripple of hot pain.

He dropped back down and rubbed his face, wincing like he'd been burned already.

Guinevere had made him promise to get any new burns checked out as soon as possible. He had a feeling he would be very, very lucky to get off this mountain without any burns.

Link opened up his slate and started applying the serum, wincing at the awful slimy feeling. Daruk and Urbosa kept up a low conversation to distract himself with, talking about what they remembered of Death Mountain and past chiefs the Gorons had had. Link wiped his hands on his pants, put his sapphire circlet on, and pulled himself up onto the rock face again.

He kept going, walking past the flying embers in the air and the lake of lava flowing alongside the path. Mipha was watching with wonder, wide-eyed at the sights, and that made Link smile a little.

Then he heard the distant sound of another guardian, skittering across the rock, and before he could think twice, he'd scaled the nearest peak and was hiding. After a couple minutes of nothing, he gave Daruk a pleading look, and without hesitation, Daruk went to scout ahead. Within a couple minutes, he returned. Mipha wasn't smiling anymore.

“Looks like it hasn't noticed anything, still on patrol,” Daruk reported, frowning. “You could go around, but you'd have to climb.”

Link was already starting to nod, but then he stopped.

It's on the road, he said after a moment. Daruk's face went blank. Link looked down. Anyone could go up the road, and they would never know what was waiting for them. No one could get away from a guardian unscathed. People can't travel.

“...They probably go around,” Daruk offered gamely. Link swallowed.

He had four ancient arrows. The last guardian had given up a shaft, which would net him another. His fingers tightened on the rock.

“You don't have to, Link,” Mipha reminded him gently.

He didn't have to. Not yet. Not if he didn't want to.

Link let out a relieved sigh, set his head against the rock, and then braced himself, jumped down, and grabbed another ancient arrow.

He played it as smart as he could. He would have more time to aim if the guardian never saw him, so he crept down on it from the mountain adjacent. It didn't, and he ignored the burn starting to nip at his skin to whistle for its attention and, as soon as it snapped to face him, shoot it in the eye. He watched it collapse, and then kept watching it for a while after that, heart racing.

It was another half hour before he got up and moved on.

“But you did well, Link,” Mipha murmured, soft and encouraging. “This is amazing improvement. You did so well.”

Link nodded dazedly, grabbed the rock above him with a wince, and pulled himself up. He walked straight to the tower, climbed it, and set his slate in the middle to download the map. He looked over his shoulder the the path ahead. He felt how hot it was even with the circlet, and how exhaustion was starting to drag at his limbs.

As soon as the map of the area finished downloading, Link put the slate back on his hip, curled up on his side, and slipped off, letting the volcanic heat pull him into sleep.

It was afternoon by the time he woke up again, stretching with a yawn, and sat up.

“You never told us he liked to sleep,” Revali muttered crankily to Mipha, who smiled brightly.

“You never asked,” she teased.

Link hummed in drowsy amusement, and then hopped the rail and down to the volcano again to keep trudging up the path. It was peaceful, for the most part; he learned how to blow up a mountain octorok, found and ignored a bokoblin camp that was down too steep a cliff to matter, and picked up a few more fire chu jellies. There was a shrine in a lake of fire, and he marked it on his map; the waves of heat still hurt, and he didn't want to test his half-recovered body on those jumps.

Where does ore come from? he asked at one point, when he stopped to crack open a few luminous deposits with a drillshaft he'd found. Daruk hummed.

“Depends. The bulk of it, the stuff Gorons dig up, that forms over thousands of years of pressure and heat and all kinds of things – that's why ancient Goron culture had so many scholars, was because we were workin' so hard to figure out these damned rocks. But these things...” He waved at the deposit Link had just shattered apart. “They're just crystallized magic. There's never a lot of it, but it forms some beautiful and powerful stuff.”

Link grunted with enthusiasm, tucked the luminous rock away, and got to his feet again, continuing on down into the next tunnel. Halfway through, the ground rumbled, and Link froze.

But it wasn't a guardian this time. When Link turned around, it was a talus made of lava rock, pulling itself laboriously out of the ground.

Link fired an arrow at it and darted forward. His first attempt to clamber on nearly burned his hand, forcing him away with a hiss, and it took effort to ignore that enough to fumble at his slate.

The next arrow he shot was made of ice.

The others shouted instructions at him as he worked, and he half-ignored them, only paying mind when they called out a warning. At least the talus was familiar; the fight had a rhythm to it. He rolled, fired twice, once ice once normal, and threw himself onto it to beat the ore node on its back. It was blazing hot, and Link was pouring down sweat, and his chest ached from fear and exertion.

Within an hour, the talus' magic faded, and it crumbled to pieces, taking Link down with it, groaning in pain.

Revali was shaking his head at Link, apparently disgusted.

“You get bolder every day,” he said, and Link laughed shakily and pushed himself up.

He was starting to feel the burn again, so he reluctantly reapplied the fireproof serum. He gathered up the gems – most of them were amber or ruby or loose gravel, but there was one diamond that he tucked away carefully. He broke some of the other deposits. He sat down, at some chilly food, and then kept going. When he climbed out of the tunnel, avoiding the magma patches, it was creeping into the early evening.

There were Gorons working down the sides of the mine, chipping away to a mining song. Curious, Link went up to them and started prying.

“They won't like you interrupting their work,” Daruk warned. Link ignored him, humming loudly at each one until they paid attention to him.

“Who are you?” he asked each one – Bohrin, Dorill, Jengo, and Greyson. At that last, Link all but vibrated on his feet, humming happily. None of them would talk to him for longer than it took to introduce themselves, though, so Link resigned himself to waiting by the fire for nighttime.

“What are you doing,” Revali demanded after a while, which was when Link realized he'd started rubbing his cheek and ear against the rock wall like a disgruntled cat, smearing the serum across the stone. Link's cheeks were starting to burn, actually. Link resentfully reapplied the serum, and immediately had to resist the urge to rub it back off. He rocked unhappily, frowning at the fire. He hadn't thought of that; he'd have to wait longer to get to Goron City now, which meant longer with... this.

“It might be easier if you distracted yourself,” Mipha suggested, with a hint of a laugh. Link instantly sprang to his feet and scurried off.

He explored both ends of the little lava stream on the southern edge of the mine. They were narrow and dangerous, but they had good ore in them, and he found more tiny fireproof lizards than he could hold in his hands. He captured a few, grunting in satisfaction, and when he caught the last, he heard someone exclaim.

He looked up curiously.

“You're fast!” the man said, and then strode over, empty handed. He was wearing a full set of armor, heavy and dyed deep red, and he grinned at Link through his helmet. “Hey, mind doing me a favor?” Link tilted his head. “I promised my friends some souveniers from Death Mountain, but the only thing I could really think of was these little scurrying scraps.” He waved at a fireproof lizard. It scurried away, disappearing quickly into a crack. “But I'm not quick enough to catch them. If you can get, say, ten of them for me, I'll give you this.” He tapped his chest plate. Link squinted at him, and the man smiled sheepishly. “It's a nice conversation piece and all, but, uh, a little heavy for me. All I really need to come back up here is the helmet.”

That seemed fair enough, and it would spare Link from needing to reapply any more of the damned fireproof elixir. He nodded at the man and went to chase lizards.

It took less than half an hour to catch ten of them, and he delivered them to the delighted Kima, who happily stripped off his armor and handed it over. Link squirmed into it, buckled it into place, and felt the thin layer of protective magic – not cooling, he could feel now, but protective – close around him. He immediately started scrubbing off the serum with his sleeve. Mipha did him the service of laughing a little quieter than Kima did.

At last, night fell, and Greyson trodded over to squint at Link.

“You're still here?” he said, surprised. Link nodded. “Huh. Well, I'm goin' home for the night. Pelison! We're going home!”

A young Goron, one of the two that had been rolling around bumping into each other, popped open and trotted over. Greyson patted his head and started walking, and Link fell in on his other side and started tapping. Greyson, clearly tired, ignored him until he was finished, which suited Link just fine.

“Do you like working here?” Link asked. Greyson squinted at him and shrugged, trudging down the path at a pace even Link, half his height, kept up with easily.

“It's a job,” he said at last, patting Pelison on the head again. “Something to do, keeps me and my little brother eating granite instead of topsoil, decent place to stay and all. It's work.”

“Do you like working here?” Link repeated patiently. Pelison clung to Greyson's arm, looking at Link with wide eyes.

Greyson stopped and turned to Link, frowning. “What's it to you?”

Link smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck before he answered, slow enough that the silence stretched on and Pelison began to get fidgety before he was done. “My friend is making a town. In Akkala. It has rocks. He thinks a Goron could break the rocks. And your name ends in 'son.'”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Greyson asked, baffled. Link shrugged. He didn't know how Bolson's mind worked. He stared at Greyson expectantly, and Greyson sighed, looking down at his little brother. “What do you think, Pelison?”

Pelison jumped hard enough to shake the ground a little, and then grunted thoughtfully.

“I wanna meet people!” he declared at last, with unwavering certainty. “I wanna live in a little Hylian town!”

Greyson chuckled, reaching out to pat the boy's head, and looked at Link. “I'll have to think about it. You gonna be on Death Mountain long?” Link made a so-so motion with his hand. “Couple days?” Link nodded. “That'll do. I'm not gonna lie, it... sounds good. Would be great to do some work that actually makes this world a better place for once.”

He looked a little bit wistful, but within moments he shook it off and waved Link on forward. Link wondered if the Goron himself noticed he had a bit more spring in his step.

“Come on, it's a long way to Goron City still,” Greyson said. “What's it to you, though? And I mean it this time. What're you going around recruiting people to a little foundling town for?”

Link smiled brightly, moved to catch up, and started tapping again.

“Cover!” Daruk bellowed.

The two of them reacted so quickly that Link actually wasn't sure which of them was responding to the other. Greyson fisted a hand into the back of Link's armor, Link folded down around little Pelison, and Greyson curled around both of them. It wasn't until the whole process was done with that Link fully registered the roar in the distance, and then the meteors that started crashing down around them.

Link flinched as one came toward them, arms tightening around Pelison, but Daruk shouted and stood between them, and quick as lightning, a shield flashed in and then back out of existence, unnoticed. The magma crashed against the shield and splashed away, but it flickered out before it was done, and Link hissed as some of the backsplash seared his arm.

It was almost a minute before the burst ended, and Greyson unfolded quickly, Link a little slower.

“You alright, Pelison?” Greyson asked gingerly.

“The little Hylian hurt his arm!” Pelison piped up.

“Not what I asked,” Greyson said, and physically picked Pelison up and turned him this way and that, examining him for injuries. Pelison started giggling, and Greyson softened and made more of a show out of it, squinting at each part of his little brother until Pelison was laughing freely, and finally, Greyson put him down and looked at Link. “Thanks for lookin' out for him. How's the arm?”

Link had to force himself not to baby the wound, carefully keeping himself from wincing. He shrugged. Mipha clicked her tongue disapprovingly at him.

“Stop being polite,” she chided, crouching down to look at the injury herself. “You were told quite specifically to be careful of burns, weren't you? Ask him where the doctor lives. And move your hand!”

“Scuse ya, I know where the doctor is,” Daruk said, amused, but his expression was pinched, and he was scratching the back of his head as he looked Link over. “Sorry, little buddy, I was hoping I kept it all off you.”

Link shrugged and, reluctantly, released enough of the burn to let Mipha see. In doing so, he also accidentally caught Greyson's attention. Greyson reached out to grab his arm, and Link instinctively skittered back in alarm. Greyson paused, and then slowly drew his hand back and gestured for Link to show him the injury. Link did, a little disconcerted by his own reaction.

Greyson grunted. “It's not a bad burn. You'll be alright.”

“Link,” Mipha said, with a stern tone that made Link jump guiltily.

Sullen and frustrated, Link wanted to just tell her that he didn't want to, dammit. He knew she was right, though, but the thought of trying to figure out how to explain his past injuries and Guinevere's instructions- He wrinkled his nose and patted his arm gingerly, trying to reason his way out of the situation.

Pelison was staring at Link, wide-eyed and thoughtful.

“Greyson, I think he doesn't want to go to the doctor,” he said.

“Good thing he don't need to,” Greyson said, fondly amused. Pelison looked up and huffed at him, stomping his foot.

“No, like- when you take me to the doctor and I don't wanna. But you take me anyway.”

Greyson squinted. “Are you telling me that you think he needs to go to the doctor?” He glanced at Link, apologetic and chuckling a little, but Link just shuffled his feet uncomfortably, and Greyson's smile faded. “That right, little Hylian?”

It was the best explanation he was likely to be able to give. Also, the burn hurt, and something about it made his brain recoil unpleasantly. He nodded, not sure why he felt so embarrassed.

“Well, alright then,” Greyson said at last. “Let's go.”

Still holding his burned arm tightly against him, Link followed him gingerly across the paths that bridged the lava, turning very carefully until they ended up in a little metal hut tucked away in a corner, next to a broad, deep bowl filled with glowing embers and a few large rocks. After a minute, Link recognized it as a Goron nest.

“Here it is,” Greyson said gruffly, nodding inside. “I'll come find ya in the next day or two.”

Link gave him a weary smile and a nod, and tagged on a 'thank you' even though he wasn't sure Greyson would catch it.

The man inside was, as far as he could tell, a relatively young Goron, perhaps younger than Daruk if Link was any judge. He sat up as Link approached and beckoned him over, and Link seated himself on the steel stool across from him, looking around curiously. Most of the equipment in here was foreign to him; it looked more like a pottery crossed with a tinkerer's shop.

“I'm warnin' ya, I don't have a lot of experience with Hylians,” the doctor – Garvel, according to Greyson - warned, but he was already looking Link over, zeroing immediately in on his burnt arm. “I'm not well equipped for burns, but I could wrap it up for ya if you really want. Probably doesn't even need that, though.”

How's your sign? Link asked him hopefully.

“Not in these parts,” the doctor replied, with a touch of regret. Link shrugged and went for his Sheikah slate.

A few minutes passed in silence, and finally Link was able to explain, “I have burn scars on half my body. Rito Doctor said get new burns treated. Extra careful.”

By the time Zelda's voice finished playing, Garvel was looking a little more concerned.

“That's a bit above my paygrade,” he said frankly, though he held out his large hand to examine Link's burn anyway. Link's heart sank, and he bit his cheek. He really didn't want to have to leave early. He had Greyson to talk to and a location to look for. “It looks simple enough on its own, but I've treated maybe two serious burns, ever, in my life. Gorons don't get 'em. Not familiar with complications. If you're really worried, you should probably head back down and get it looked at.”

Link wavered, glancing at Mipha, wondering what she thought. She shrugged at him.

“It's your decision,” she said quietly, which did make Link feel a little better. If she thought Link really needed to go right to a doctor, she'd say so.

He really did need to stay on the mountain. He'd promised Daruk they'd try and find his family, and he really wanted to find the path overlooking the castle. The pain from the burn blended into the rest of his body, with maybe a little bit of extra throb; it was faintly blistered but, like Garvel had said, not terrible on its own.

He held the arm out, and Garvel sighed, then chuckled a little, ducking under his desk to retrieve what turned out to be a roll of fireproof bandages.

“Alright,” he said agreeably. “But you should get it checked out anyway, soon as you can.”

Link nodded, feeling oddly weary. He was getting really sick of going to doctors.

Chapter Text

Link didn't wake up until almost noon the next day, which was fair, considering just how late he'd been awake; it had probably been a good thing he'd napped on the way up. He spent the morning exploring Goron City. The armorsmith agreed to adjust his chestplate to fit him better, which didn't take long, and also measured him for a helmet and boots, which he promised would be ready by the end of the day. Link prayed at the goddess statue and let the cool blessings ease away some of the strain in his body, and sat there for a while longer before finally moving on.

There was a shop selling spices and meat, and Link bought some of each, then went to the cooking pot outside, where Urbosa taught him how to make a vegetable curry. It burned Link's mouth, and he instantly decided that he liked it.

Shae Mo'sah's shrine stood just above the city, but a Goron warned him against going very far past it.

“Little Hylians like you should have a full set of flameproof armor before you go through there,” he said. “And even then it'll be pretty unpleasant. The lava's gotten bad since Vah Rudania, and it's way hotter than I've ever seen it before. There's monsters everywhere too, and with the blood moon...” He shrugged, exhausted. “Can't get rid of them.”

Link looked up, and thought he caught a glimpse of something glowing and vaguely snakelike on the side of the volcano. He pointed, and the Goron nodded.

“Yep, that's Rudania. Wish I knew what had woken her up from hibernation, she's been nothing but trouble.” He huffed. When Link glanced over, concerned, Daruk looked... sad, he thought. Disappointed. “But as I say, if you haven't commissioned a set of armor already, you oughta before you go through here.”

Link nodded, gestured his thanks, and turned back, making his way down to Goron City again. He could linger for a little longer before exploring more of the mountain.

So he went around the city asking about Igneous. Within an hour he learned that Igneous was dead, which made Daruk go and sit by the central lava pit for a while. Link went to sit with him quietly. It was the first time he saw Daruk look truly miserable. The magma flowed far below them, and even with the sapphire circlet and the armor, Link could feel the heat radiating off of it. He even had to pull his feet up and fold them under him when he realized that his boots were beginning to melt.

“Not a surprise, I s'pose,” Daruk said at last, voice rough and gravely. Link looked at him. Daruk shrugged. “Gorons don't live as long as Hylians, and it's been a long damn time. But I guess I was hoping...” He trailed off, then reached up and scrubbed his face. “Damn it.”

He stayed quiet for a while longer. Link picked up a rock and rolled it around in his palms.

“You mind asking around, see if he had any kids?” Daruk finally asked. “I'm gonna... sit here for a while longer.”

The central lava pit was where the Gorons placed their dead, letting them slowly melt back into the earth. Link nodded and got to his feet, brushed the ash off, and got back to work.

Igneous, it developed, had had a daughter, Jasper, and she had passed too. But it was when Link finally stumbled across the Goron chief, Bludo, and asked him that he finally struck gold.

Igneous had a surviving grandson, Daruk's great-grandson. Yunobo.

“If you want to talk to him, he should be up in the northern mines,” Bludo said, scratching his head. “He's taking a mighty long time to get back. He went to get my painkillers almost two hours ago. Damn pumice-headed little moonraker...”

Link went to the armorsmith and asked if the armor was done. It was; apparently he kept several pieces half-assembled for quicker turnaround. Link paid him, strapped the armor on, and set off toward the north mine.

He was going to make sure Daruk met his descendent.

When Link didn't get back to the city by nightfall, Mipha appeared beside him, clearly concerned. Link quickly tried to hide the fact that he was crying, cheeks turning red with humiliation as soon as he noticed her. He was sitting with his back against a shrine's activation pillar, still trying to coax himself into taking the rickety mining cart back over the lava.

Don't tell Daruk, Link said instantly. I'm fine.

What happened? Mipha prompted gently.

It's nothing, he insisted, but it was a little more exhausted. I- there were guardian scouts in there. Mipha looked puzzled, and Link shrugged helplessly. He didn't get it, either. Groups of four. I... wasn't ready for that. He swallowed. It's harder when there are lots of them.

A scout's beams didn't hurt like a full-sized guardian's did, but Link had still taken a few more burns, stinging and painful. And they felt like they fired very fast, when there were four all doing it out of sync. Like he was being swarmed.

Mipha quickly glanced at the shrine, and then reached forward to touch Link's hand. She ghosted right through. It looks like you managed it just fine.

Link laughed raggedly, wiped his eyes, and nodded. Yeah. It, I- there were puzzles. I liked those. Fun.

What kinds of puzzles do the shrines have? Link hesitated. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.

...It varies, Link said at last, calming down a little as he mulled the question over. A lot of them are coordination tests, or problem solving. This was... I had to light all of the torches with a blue flame, like the labs had. Most of them had tricks to them, so I had to light two at once, or with an arrow, or before or after doing something. The last one I had to spin on my heel and light about six at the same time, and if I missed one, they'd all be extinguished.

Mipha looked surprised, and then hid a giggle, looking guilty. Link gave her a wan smile. Scouts aside, he'd really liked the puzzles in this shrine.

That sounds more fun than I expected, she admitted.

Link smiled a little, and, encouraged, said, The one in Zora's Domain had... a slope of running water, and obstacles, and a walkway set above them where I could see it all pretty easily. And I had to guide a huge Sheikah orb down the slope without letting it fall into the abyss, and then knock it left into a Sheikah switch to open the gate.

Excuse me, the abyss? Mipha asked, startled. Link snorted.

A lot of them have kind of... He gestured vaguely. Endless falls. I don't know why. It's not as if I'm scared of heights.

Clearly, Mipha said, looking faint, and Link chuckled again. He was startled to realize he felt better.

He looked at the rickety minecart track, and then down at his slate.

I don't even have to go back over the lava, he realized, vaguely annoyed with himself. I'm going to warp back to Shae Mo'sah's shrine, can you reassure the others that I'm okay?

Mipha hid a laugh and nodded, disappearing a split second later. Link smiled for a few moments more, and then tapped away until he vanished too.

Link was almost cheerful when he returned to Goron City, if sweaty and sore; he could already tell that wearing this armor for days at a time would not be something he wanted to do often. But Daruk waved to him from the edge of the lava pit, and Link waved back before looking around. He found Bludo's house and beckoned Daruk, who appeared quick enough to make Link jump.

“Find something?” Daruk asked anxiously. Link smiled at him.

You have a great-grandson, Link informed him. Y-u-n-o-b-o, son of Jasper, daughter of Igneous.

Daruk's eyes got a little misty, and he laughed from his belly, wiping them away carelessly.

“Atta boy,” he murmured. “You know where?”

Link made a so-so motion, and then beckoned him again and ducked into the open doorway of Bludo's home. Bludo was leaning heavily against the wall, grunting unhappily while Yunobo watched and tapped his fingers together anxiously. Link caught Daruk's attention and indicated Yunobo, and Daruk's face split into a massive grin. He immediately went to lean down and examine Yunobo, though his grin took on a taint of sorrow when Yunobo, of course, did not notice him.

Where's Revali? Link asked Urbosa, concerned when he realized he hadn't seen the Rito in a while. Urbosa's lips pressed together.

He's brooding, she signed. I think... I don't mean to pressure you, Link. Link nodded encouragingly. I think he would like to see his family as well. Rito have lifespans closer to Hylians than Gorons, but not by much.

Link nodded again, more firmly this time. He'd make sure to do the same for Revali as he'd done for all the others.

“Ah, you're the little traveler who went looking for Yunobo earlier, aren't you?” Bludo grunted, sitting up with a clear wince when he noticed Link hovering. Almost in unison, Yunobo and Link both gestured for him to lay back down. “Bah! You young people.” But he leaned back against the wall anyway, looking worn. “Appreciate you rescuing the little slacker. Monsters didn't give you any trouble, did they?” Link shook his head. “Good. About time they calmed down a little... Anyway- rrgh!”

Yunobo and Link both jumped, and then looked at each other with matching expressions of concern, then at Bludo. Bludo grunted grumpily.

“A curse of Din on my goddess-forsaken age-cracks...” he muttered. “I'll go up to the springs tomorrow, see if that helps any. Traveler- I owe you one. That armor, you get it today?” Link nodded. “I'll pay for the helmet. Thousand rupees, isn't it?”

It was twice that, but Link gave Bludo a bright, grateful smile and nodded. Bludo grabbed a large pouch and a small one, counted out five silver rupees, and tossed the small pouch to Link.

Thank you, Link signed, pleased. Are you going to be okay?

Bludo squinted at Link, and Link flushed, embarrassed, and hoped it wasn't too obvious past his helmet.

“He asked if you're going to be okay!” Yunobo piped up unexpectedly, and then scratched the back of his head sheepishly when Link gave him a surprised look. “Um, someone told me my great-grandfather, the great Daruk, learned sign for one of his friends, so I thought, I thought I would too.”

Daruk grinned widely. Link's face heated with embarrassment, but he smiled too. He took his helmet off and set it in his lap – it blocked enough signs to make speaking kind of a pain – and looked at Bludo, who grunted again.

“As I ever am,” he grumbled. Link sympathized heavily. “Don't worry about it, brat, it's nothing I'm not accustomed to. These old crags erode a little more every day, is all. Now, shoo. Not gonna serve anyone for you to stay here any longer.”

He still sounded grumpy; Link was pretty sure he just wanted to be alone until the painkillers kicked in. Link looked at Yunobo and tilted his head to the door in invitation, and Yunobo nodded so hard Link thought his head would fall off, then hopped off the chair and scurried toward the door. Smiling a little, Link slipped out after him.

“You wanna go eat some rocks?” Yunobo asked hopefully, signing it only a little slower. Link nodded (Mipha buried her face in her hands) and followed Yunobo to a rocky corner behind the general store. Yunobo sat down, broke a chunk off the wall, and chewed happily. Link grabbed a couple of pebbles that had fallen when he did and popped them into his mouth.

“It's not like it hurts him,” Urbosa said to Mipha.

“Rocks don't have calories,” Mipha protested, muffled through the webbing of her fingers. “He doesn't even like them!”

It was true. Rocks didn't taste very good. They didn't taste bad either, though, and Yunobo had seemed happy when Link agreed.

Link met Daruk's eyes and tilted his head toward Yunobo, and Daruk's eyes lit up.

“Ask him what he's training to be,” Daruk all but demanded, his voice hushed in a way that would be amusing if it weren't sort of sad.

Is Boss your mentor? Link asked Yunobo, and Yunobo smiled bashfully and nodded hard. What is he training you for?

Yunobo laughed a little and rubbed the back of his head before he answered. It changes a lot. We're not really sure what I'm good at yet. So far it kinda seems like nothing. His smile faded for a long moment before turning back up to full brightness. I really like watching Boss fix the cannons though! I'm just not any good at it. Don't have the dexterity, Boss says.

Link looked down at his own hands, then at Yunobo's massive ones, and then said, Your dexterity is just fine. Sign requires a lot of it, you know. He smiled at Yunobo's startled expression and popped another rock into his mouth. Liking something is the first step to being good at it. If you keep doing it, you can't stay bad forever.

Yunobo grinned, wide enough to split his face from ear to ear. You're right! I'll ask Boss if I can help him next time! That way he can talk me through it!

Link gave him a smile and an encouraging nod, and then kept talking.

At some point, Link ended up explaining to Yunobo what he was looking for. Not all of the details, of course, but he described the picture, and the amnesia, and that he was hoping he would remember something. Yunobo had promised right away to take him there, and they set out late the next morning.

“You didn't tell me Hylians don't eat rocks!” Yunobo was complaining. Daruk was only a few steps away, Mipha and Urbosa both right by him for support. Revali was still conspicuously missing. After a moment, Yunobo started, and then repeated his words in sign.

Link gave him an indulgent smile. It's fine, I snack on rocks sometimes too. And you don't have to sign if you don't want to. I know a lot of people who use sign first can't, but I can hear you just fine.

It seems inconsiderate, Yunobo signed fretfully. Link laughed, quiet and soft. He thought he liked Yunobo quite a lot, too.

A little bit, he admitted freely. He shrugged, pausing to figure out how to explain. It depends on the situation. But most people who don't speak sign language by preference aren't fluent enough to use it while walking, or to catch everything everyone signs if they're talking in a group, and especially not both. So if I'm the only one signing, it's easier on a lot of people even if they do know it. I don't mind.

He watched Yunobo mull that over for a while, looking thoughtful, and finally, Yunobo grinned at him.

If you keep doing it, you can't stay bad forever! he signed cheerfully, and Link beamed at him, so wide his cheeks hurt.

That's true, he said warmly, and he didn't bring it up again.

So the two of them kept talking as they climbed down Death Mountain, Yunobo following the route as if by second nature. At Daruk's request, Link asked about his friends, about what he liked to do, and if he'd ever been off Death Mountain.

No, never, Yunobo admitted with a bashful smile. I don't really like adventuring. I like looking at it from up here though! It all looks really pretty.

Link nodded his agreement, and they kept climbing.

A couple of times, they ran into monsters; once, right before the bridge over the Goronbi river, it was a whole camp of them. Link made Yunobo stay back, out of sight, and then climbed a nearby mountaintop and shot the weaker ones down, one by one, then went in with a Stone Smasher and handled the rest. Yunobo spent the next ten minutes rambling about it, recalling it play by play, until Link's cheeks were hotter than the lava around them and Daruk was laughing, loud and booming.

Eventually they dropped low enough that the air stopped burning, and Link stopped Yunobo so he could duck behind a rock and change into climbing gear, which would not only make it easier to climb but also didn't hurt as much as the armor did. When he came back out, Yunobo gasped. Link cocked his head, confused.

That looks like it really hurts, Yunobo signed stiltedly.

Link looked down at himself and immediately understood. The fireproof armor had covered him completely. The climbing gear, though, exposed his knees and calves, and both arms all the way to the shoulder. The worst scarring was still hidden, but there was plenty to display all the same.

It's fine, he assured Yunobo hastily. It's... old.

Yunobo didn't look certain, but he did keep going, which was good enough for Link.

Eventually they crested a tall slope, and Link made out the swirling form of Hyrule Castle. Then he looked past it and inhaled sharply.

“Is that the Lost Woods, Link?”

He heard the words in Zelda's voice, as clear as if she were right beside him; he even turned his head to look, but there was of course only Yunobo, who, oblivious, gave him a big grin.

“Isn't it cool?” he asked, hushed. “I've always wanted to go in there. Uh, except not really. But I want to know what's there!”

Link looked out toward it. He felt a visceral pull to the cloudy forest. It was so strong he nearly dropped down and sailed toward it, all other tasks be damned. He resisted, barely, and eventually gave Yunobo a small smile and a nod.

I'll tell you, he promised confidently, and Yunobo looked delighted.

The edge of Death Mountain was craggy and steep, and there was enough up and down to hurt like hell. More than once, putting it off for longer each time, Link had to ask Yunobo to stop for a while so he could rest. Yunobo was very sweet about it, but Link still hated needing to lean against a boulder and gasp for breath in the thin, hot air.

The last time, he got very dizzy, very quickly, and had to sit down hard. Yunobo sat down with him.

Are you sure you're okay? Yunobo asked, pressing and fretful.

Link pressed his palm against his forehead, trying not to think about the fact that he was genuinely struggling to catch his breath. After several minutes, it finally evened out, and he dropped his hand with a sigh of relief.

Sorry, he said, even though no one seemed annoyed. He felt small and frustrated again. I'm getting better, but my stamina's been touch-and-go since... He gestured towards his injuries, and Yunobo, thankfully, just nodded sympathetically.

Boss has days like that too, he said earnestly.

They spent the next few hours taking it more slowly, until the sun was dropping lower in the sky. Link was starting to seriously wonder whether they would have to return before they found the right place, and then he looked down over the military camp and-

(Link remembered-)

(He and Zelda had been sitting together on a slope, littered with the corpses of dozens of monsters. Zelda had been bandaging his forearm, reassuring him that he'd be alright.)

(She'd told him to be careful, and he'd felt nothing but affection over it.)

(She was so worried about the Calamity. So Link tried his best not to be.)

Link shuddered, shaking his head to bring himself back to the present, and then lifted a hand to his mouth and felt his smile. Yunobo, who had been looking at him fretfully, broke suddenly into a renewed grin.

“Did you remember!!” he asked excitedly, bouncing on his toes. “Did you! Did you!”

Link gave in and laughed, bright and pleased, and nodded, looking down over the castle and the tower and the woods.

Another piece slotted into place, and the yellow on his hand grew brighter.

Chapter Text

“Foothill, then South Akkala, then East Akkala, then south,” Greyson muttered, and looked up to give Link a firm nod. “That sounds like a plan. Thanks, Link. Probably never would've gotten out of that damn mine without you.”

Link gave him a smile and a nod, and then stood up to watch he and Pelison leave, a peculiar joy filling his chest.

“What are you smiling about,” Revali groused; he'd finally returned from his brooding.

Nothing, Link said, and then, bashful, I'm really excited about Tarrey Town. Hudson seemed so passionate about it. I think... it would be nice, if he managed to build it all. If a new town sprang up.

“Yeah, it would,” Urbosa agreed softly, giving him a small smile of her own. “A good omen for Hyrule, I think.”

Link nodded, and then turned to look at Daruk. I don't have any more business here, but I can still stay a few days if you want.

Daruk chuckled softly, scratching the back of his head. “I appreciate the offer, little guy, but you don't gotta. You seemed pretty interested in the forest down the way.”

It was true. Even just the mention made Link perk up a little, looking over his shoulder as if to see the forest.

“Besides,” Daruk added, a little more gently, “it's really not comfortable for you up here, is it?”

Link's smile fell, his shoulders slumping a little.

I really want to figure out how to handle that, he admitted, frustrated. It feels like everything hurts. But I can't just run away from everything. I need to be able to spend time in places like... He waved at Death Mountain. Without feeling like my skin is tearing apart.

“Have you been keeping up with your care routine?” Mipha asked, concerned.

Link looked away guiltily.

I'm going to go to Hateno, he said without answering, and hastily warped to the shrine up the hill from the little town. By the time the others were at his side again, he had the flamebreaker armor off and was pulling on the Gerudo vai outfit in its place, and damn the cold or the rain.

“Link-” Mipha started.

I know, he said, frustrated. He curled up down around his knees, shuddering involuntarily. Days of the heavy flamebreaker armor had left him stiff. I know, it's stupid. But I hate it. I hate the idea of spending two or three hours every day just trying to make my body work. I don't want to stop moving five times a day so I can stretch. I don't want to have to make a new batch of salve once a damn week and put it on before bed every night. I don’t want to drop everything every time I get a little burn. I don't want to... He trailed off, not sure why he was so upset, and gestured unhappily.

“You don't think you deserve to spend that much time focusing on yourself,” Mipha said quietly. Link hid his face. “Link, it's okay. Your body needs more care than it used to, but you need it. You're not doing anything wrong by being gentle with yourself.”

Link didn't answer. Mipha sighed.

“Give him time,” Daruk said to her softly. “It's hard for any man to accept his limitations, and Link has more on his shoulders than most.”

Link huffed against his knees, and then, slow and stiff, pushed himself up. The cool, damp air of Hateno felt good against his overheated skin. On slightly shaky legs, he started to make his way down to the main village.

He waved when he saw Bolson and Karson by his house, and Bolson started and then lifted a hand in return, which made Karson turn around to look at him.

“You got back quick!” Karson exclaimed, surprised. “You really had time to go to Akkala and back?”

Link shrugged and nodded, not interested in going into the full details of it, and tilted his head down the road. Karson chuckled and waved him on, understanding, and Link turned to head toward the doctor.

He knocked on Kukiel’s door and waited for her to call out, and then let himself in. Kukiel seemed to be doing inventory; she’d run through most of the monster parts he’d brought her, but in return she had a beautiful new stock of elixirs, most of them red. She smiled at him. He thought she looked a little younger than he had the last time he saw her.

“Link, wasn’t it?” she asked. He nodded. “Come in, what can I do for you? I’m afraid I haven’t quite the funds to buy another batch the size of the last, but I certainly wouldn’t say no to a few.”

Link shook his head, stepped inside, then reconsidered and nodded. There was a chair across from her, and he dropped down into it with a grunt and a wince, and then pushed his sleeve up and held out one arm to show her some of the burns he’d gotten on Death Mountain. With surprisingly gentle fingers, she touched his arm, and then tilted it a little in the light, frowning.

“Guinevere passed through a few weeks ago,” she said at last, unexpectedly. “She mentioned that she had encountered a swordsman with significant burn scarring. I suspect that’s you?”

Link flushed with shame and nodded.

“Hm.” She resumed her inspection with his reluctant cooperation, including his other arm and then his left shoulder when he leaned forward, all defensive injuries. “Would it trouble you to stay in touch for the next few days? Ordinarily these would be comparatively minor burns, but you’re more likely to get infections than most, and these have an unusual degree of swelling and redness for burns their size.”

Link whined to himself that he didn’t want to stay in Hateno. Ever since he’d caught sight of the Lost Woods from atop Death Mountain, he’d been itching to go there, antsy and eager. He had to go; his sword was there.

Reluctantly, though, he nodded. The last thing he wanted was to fall ill like he had in Zora’s Domain.

Kukiel tried to chuckle, but mostly she just looked pensive again. “I know, dear. It’s always hard for a boy your age to stay still. Just get plenty of rest and then you’ll be free to run again.”

Link sighed and nodded. He doubted he was getting out of it, anyway.

“You did the right thing, Link,” Mipha reassured him, and that made Link settle a little despite himself.

So Link stayed in his Hateno home, now partially furnished, for the next few days. He sold some things and bought some things, had dinner with Bolson and Karson and asked them to add a few more things to his house. He slept for a few hours at a time, whether it was night or day, and a couple times didn’t spend more than an hour or two awake before he napped again. Twice he woke up shivering for no reason at all, feverish and uncomfortable, and a few more times from restless nightmares. This, Mipha explained, was the fault of the infection.

All in all, though, it wasn’t bad, and on the fourth day, Kukiel gave him the all-clear to start traveling again. Inside of an hour, Link was at Foothill Stable again, heading eagerly west. He wanted to look for the shrine the Foothill stablemaster had painted.

He found it north of Trilby Valley, then kept heading west, eyes on the tower he thought he'd seen near the Lost Woods. He crept past a few large monster camps, thick with silver bokoblin, and he guessed people didn't often travel through Trilby Valley. A thick tree attracted his attention as soon as he was out of it, and a man named Russ nearly made him jump out of his skin, then taught him how to shield surf, which turned out to be even more fun than it sounded. (Link maybe broke a couple of shields before he forced himself to move on.)

North of that was Woodland Stable, and Link dutifully handled the shrine there (a precision-focused thing that made his shoulders ache worse but also gave him a few extra hammers) then sat by the lake and ate a bowl of vegetable curry, watching the water.

Sesami said that my sword was probably in the Great Hyrule Forest, didn't he? Link asked after a while, without turning around.

“Excuse me, come again?” Mipha asked, and Link turned to face her better and repeated the question. “I believe so, yes. You've mentioned it yourself as well. Oh.” Mipha's expression softened. “You're looking for her?”

Link nodded, heart fluttering nervously. When... I saw the forest from above, I heard Zelda. I think I was remembering. She said... Those are the Lost Woods, aren't they, Link? And that was it. But it sounded like I had been there before.

“I believe so,” Mipha agreed thoughtfully. “I never have, myself. It will be interesting to see it, I think.”

“It's supposed to be dangerous,” Urbosa agreed, more thoughtful than concerned. “Impossible to find your way through, as the name implies.”

Link hummed distractedly, his mind lingering on the thought of his sword. A purple hilt, the weight of her, the sense of confidence that filled him when he wrapped his fingers around her hilt- Goddess, he was so close. He almost wanted to get up and run, and not stop until he reached the woods. Before long, he got up and started moving again, restless and impatient.

An hour or two north of Woodland Stable was another tower; it was surrounded by a monster camp, and Link was so anxious to move on to the Lost Woods that he almost skipped it entirely. He considered it for several minutes, in fact, and only the distracted thought that he might need his map of the area forced him into action. If he didn't do it now, he'd have to double back for it.

He spent a while circling it, surveying the area, and finally found a way to cut right through most of the camp and end up right by the tower. He knocked the moblin and the bokoblin into the murky mud below, and then climbed with single-minded determination.

By the time he reached the top, it was night. He put the slate in its place and scowled at the sky.

“What are you gonna do?” Daruk asked, leaning against a pillar to survey the sky as well.

Link considered it for a couple of minutes, then sat down, ate some glazed fish and mushrooms, and grabbed his paraglider, resolution filling his chest. Daruk chuckled.

“You really are raring to go, aren't you?” he said fondly. Link let himself smile a little and nodded sheepishly.

“It makes sense,” Urbosa said, just as warm. “It will be a huge step forward if he gets his sword back – both in his goals and, I expect, for his heart as well.”

Link bobbed his head, bashful and pleased, and then jumped off the tower and sailed down.

Thoughts of his sword tickled the edge of his memory. There was affection there. There was trust, there was comfort. There was possessiveness there, and pride. And Link wanted all of it back.

None of the others objected as Link kept walking through the night. The closer he drew to the forest, the more Link's chest swelled with excitement and anticipation. The sound of his sword's voice was just on the edge of his memory, dancing and teasing, and he could almost feel his hand around her hilt. He was so close, and he walked a little faster with every step.

By the time the air turned to mist around him, he was almost running, and he skidded to a halt.

“What's wrong?” Mipha asked immediately. But Link was smiling. The mist... meant something. It meant magic and destiny and Lady Hylia. It meant Koroks, it meant...

He kept walking, more slowly again, thoughtful and cautious. But his chest still fluttered happily. Glowing motes floated through the air, glittering and beautiful. He could taste something like a blessing in the air, heavy and cloying. The others had gone conspicuously quiet.

There was only one way forward at first, hemmed in by tall stone walls. It led him to the start of a ruin, a doorway into nowhere, and Link, on something like instinct, stepped through. There was an unlit torch. He looked right, and found two more, both lit, leading him further in.

He followed them.

The wind seemed to coax him deeper into the woods, billowing gently around his back as he looked for the next torch, picked it out, and followed it into the swirling mist of the woods. Once he made a mistake, cutting toward the first torch he saw instead of the nearest, and the mist swallowed him with a Korok's giggle. When he opened his eyes again, he was next to the doorway to nowhere.

Unfazed, Link followed the torches, as if drawn by a magnet.

After a while, there were no more standing torches, just two standing like a gate, and one that he could hold in his hand. He picked up that one and turned it over thoughtfully in his hands. Looked left, looked right- no more torches.

It was almost like a shrine, except it felt... older. Much older than a Sheikah-made shrine, and much closer to his goddess.

Without hesitation, having all but forgotten his friends were there, Link lit the torch, closed his eyes to feel the wind, and then opened them and looked.

Everything, the motes in the mist, the grass, the ash and smoke from his torch- it flowed to the left. Link followed it.

The wind blew right. He changed course, checked the grass and the smoke and the mist, and followed it.

“What is he doing?” Urbosa asked, very quietly.

“I believe he's following the wind,” Revali murmured, just as soft. Link ignored them, feeling almost in a trance.

It felt like an eternity before the mist cleared. Link actually heard the music first, the distant song of Koroks cheering and dancing. When the path closed around him, he smiled and put the torch away. He'd made it through the woods.

He turned to his friends, smiling widely, and Mipha reacted first, blinking rapidly before she smiled back, just as warm.

“Go, Link,” she murmured, and he started, nodded fiercely, and cut forward, making intently for the center. When his Sheikah sensor began to chirp, he silenced it. There was one thing he wanted out of this forest first and foremost.

In the heart of Korok Forest was a pedestal. In the heart of the pedestal was Link's sword. A few of the others inhaled sharply.

Link, in his bright green tunic and his glittering diamond circlet, strode forward and dropped to one knee beside his beautiful, razor-sharp sword, gleaming with her power. He still had his torch on his back, and a lizal bow, and a cracked lizalfos shield.

He gripped the sword, and then gasped, jerking back as images flashed through his mind – all of Zelda, tired, proud, determined, worried... “The fate of Hyrule rests with you!”

He was still blinking the images out of his eyes when he heard a low groaning from above him, like a tree protesting in a storm. He looked up as the great tree mumbled and murmured sleepily before he roused entirely.

“Is that you, Link?” the tree asked at last, raspy and croaked. “Well, well. You have finally decided to return. You certainly took your time, didn't you?” The tree yawned, and Link pulled back uncomfortably, feeling something icy deep in his gut, keeping his eyes on the tree. “After a hundred years, I had nearly given up on you ever coming back here. Even my patience has limits. But here you are... and yet you do not seem to recognize me.”

The tree talked. It told Link it was called the Deku Tree, and it had watched over Hyrule for a very long time. It told him what he already knew: that this sword belonged to Link, that he needed to draw it to fight the Calamity, that Zelda awaited his rescue and that it had been such a very long time to wait.

“But beware,” the tree added, more thoughtful than anything. “This sword cares not for enhancements or physical might, only your true strength, the strength of your spirit. As you are now, weakened by your long sleep, I could not say if you are worthy. All you can do is try. But if you fail, you will die where you stand.”

Hot determination burned in Link's chest, and he nodded firmly. Without hesitation, he gripped his sword again. This time, there was no flood of memory, only a painful, sucking drain as the sword pulled on something deep inside him.

It was harder than he expected. He pulled her out, painfully slowly, inch by inch, all of his focus on drawing his blade.

He heard the schick of the blade leaving the stone.

He could feel the resistance fading. He was almost there.

“Enough!”

Link's fingers released his sword without thinking, and a wave of dizziness swept over him. He collapsed sideways, took a breath, and started coughing, deep and rough, trying to catch the breath he hadn't realized he'd lost.

The Deku Tree sighed, blowing away a few Koroks through the air, and spoke before Link had completely cleared his lungs.

“Perhaps this was too much to expect of you,” he said mournfully. Link pushed himself upright, twisting to look up at the Deku Tree, eyes wide with incomprehension. “A hundred years ago, it would have been a trivial matter to claim this sword. But now you are as weak as a child, stumbling blindly through the world.”

Link's breath hitched, then caught. He felt cold, the start of panic fluttering in his chest. His hand went instinctively to his chest, like he could force his heart rate to slow, and he looked down at his sword, still trapped in the stone pedestal.

She had pushed him away. His sword had pushed him away.

He wanted to speak, but for once, his hands were as frozen as his mouth, and he couldn't look away. He felt as though he were teetering on the edge of something dreadful. He felt alone.

A few moments of quiet passed, and then the Deku Tree sighed again. It sounded weary.

“You must strengthen yourself before you return, Link, or you will fail. And I will not stop you partway through a second time.”

It took Link another few seconds to process the Deku Tree's words, and then misery and humiliation crashed over him in awful, drowning tidal waves. He bent his head, avoiding looking at his friends, who had followed him this far because he was supposed to be the hero, because he was supposed to succeed where all else had failed, because they had died to help him.

And now, when it had come time for Link to claim back his sword, after everything he'd put them through, he'd failed.

No matter what Link did, he was just too wea-

His sword flashed and chimed. Through misty eyes, Link looked up.

“Master Link.”

She chimed again. As soon as Link heard her voice, he knew it to belong to his sword, and the tension drained out of him, shifting slowly into puzzlement and hope. He cocked his head, put one hand flat on the stone, and leaned closer.

“Master Link. I am happy to see you recovering. It has been too long since I last saw your eyes.”

Link softened, his eyes closing to better listen to her. She sounded like... trust. The way Zelda had, the first time Link heard her voice. Link would follow this voice to the ends of the earth.

“Do not take this as failure,” the voice coached, gentle and soft. “My magic is old, and your body and spirit still hurt. I have no desire to harm you... any more than you have already been harmed on this quest. It is my hope that you understand that my intention has never been, and never will be, to do you harm.”

Link pulled himself closer, attentive and desperately hopeful. He nodded. Somehow, when he heard her voice, all of his fears of rejection and failure had, at least for now, fled. He believed her.

“Master Link, you must heal the best you can before you return if you hope to wield me. And...” Her voice softened. “That includes learning to work with your body instead of against it. You are in your best condition when you stay well within your limitations, not at the outermost edge of them. Take care, and when you return, I promise you will hold me in your hands again.”

Link blinked at her, but she settled in her pedestal, and she did not speak again. His ears almost seemed to ring, and for a long time, he stayed there, watching his sword. He blinked the tears out of his eyes.

Then, impossibly, he smiled and gave her a tearful nod.

I promise, he said to her, and he meant it. He really did.

Chapter Text

The next day, Link did his stretches first thing in the morning. Then he brewed – three batches of the ordinary salve, one of the fire-chu ointment. Then he stretched again. He made enough meals to store almost two weeks' worth, and stretched twice while he was waiting. Then he went to Hestu, and traded all of his stored-up Korok seeds for storage space.

Altogether, it took the entire day. He went around, talked to some of the Koroks, and then went to sleep inside the Deku Tree.

Then the next day, Link woke up, and he did his stretches.

Are you okay? Mipha had to ask, and Link only had to glance over at her genuinely worried expression before he chuckled bashfully, finished the last few, and crossed his legs.

I'm okay, he promised her. I just... He stopped, put his hands down on his thighs, and considered for a while, trying to figure out how to articulate it. She helped me understand how to move forward.

It took Mipha a moment to connect the dots. Your sword did? What did she say?

“What the hell do you mean, his sword?” Revali snapped, suspicious and vaguely doubtful.

“He's mentioned his sword speaking to him before,” Mipha said to Revali. “He's always been extraordinarily fond of her – we've talked about it before, but never for very long. I'm... on further thought, I'm not surprised she was able to help him.”

She returned her expectant gaze to Link, who spent another minute or so thinking about how to explain.

She said that I needed to work with my body, and not against it, Link said at last, falling back to the wording his sword had used. And that I'm not really in my best condition when I'm about to break.

Mipha laughed quietly. Trust her to know exactly how to get through to you, she signed, smiling warmly. I'm glad.

Link gave her a small smile, and then he hesitated, and then he said, I'm going to make another pass at Zora River soon, to find some ralis root. Guinevere mentioned a couple other herbs...? He trailed off, glancing up at Mipha uncertainly, but her eyes were soft with understanding, and without hesitation she started to run through what she knew.

There were a few shrines in the forest, all of them fairly light and fun. The Great Deku Tree did not speak to him again, and Link leveled all of his focus on exploring the Lost Woods, catching a few stealthfin trout when he noticed them in the water, and then going on to play with the Koroks for a while, noting down their silly little quests with all the seriousness he could muster. They seemed delighted by his attentiveness, and Link promised himself he'd bring them all back what they'd asked for.

Three days after he came into Korok Forest, he left through a mysterious tree that one of the older Koroks led him to, and in only a few steps, he found himself outside of the Lost Woods.

“We're going west, of course,” Urbosa prompted him, giving him a small smile even as her voice lilted expectantly. He grinned back, feeling light and almost cheerful. He nodded.

Rito Village, then Tabantha, he said decisively, then paused and amended, Well. Rito Village, and then I'll see how I deal with the cold. I might explore Hebra before heading south. There's probably shrines there.

“You're sure shrines are what you need?” Mipha asked him, concerned, and Link hummed.

Not really. But I feel better with every blessing I collect. They certainly can't hurt.

Contrasting the single-minded determination he'd maintained on his way to the Lost Woods, Link let himself meander a little, going down the path. There were razorshrooms and lizards, a couple of hearty radishes, some butterflies. He shot a wolf and butchered it, and then climbed up to survey the land off west. After a moment of thought, he broke off the road to cut across, lingering by the edge of the water and skirting past the broken training camp.

That took another day. The route north of Hyrule Castle was rocky and vaguely mountainous, and Link spent a lot of time going up and down, though he noticed with pleasure that it was much easier than it used to be. He paused often, sometimes to eat and stretch, but usually to pick mushrooms or catch a butterfly. Once he curled up and took a nap, waking up an hour later with a stretch and a yawn.

It was a good day; it was a peaceful day. His friends talked among themselves, sometimes about Yunobo or Sidon, Riju or Revali's daughter Thistle. Revali's husband was named Augus, and he'd been a deep cobalt a few shades off the night sky. They talked about the military camp and its fate, and about Link.

Link wasn't unaware of how close he was passing to Hyrule Castle itself, though, and after a while, when he was almost directly north of it, he turned and sat on a hill to look.

The monstrous being twisted around it, he could see, was massive but thin, a formless mist caught in an invisible trap. Large swathes of sky peeked out from behind its broken mist, and whatever contained it, it did not waver. Zelda was holding strong.

After Tabantha, he said abruptly, I think I'm going to go to the castle.

His friends hushed. Mipha came to sit by his knee, Daruk approximately kitty-corner to him, and the other two never far either.

“Not to fight,” Mipha said, not truly a question. Link hummed, rocking a little as he turned the situation over, his contemplation for the first time without the burn of disgust and terror, and shook his head.

No, he confirmed. I don't think the first time I go to the castle should be the time I approach Ganon. It's too thick with guardians, I'd be hysterical before I ever breached the sanctum. But I think if I went there and... explored, and got used to it, I think the second time would be easier. The third. He hesitated for a moment, picking at his sleeve, and then ventured, I thought. That I handled them okay, by Akkala Lake. With Beedle.

“You sure did, little brother,” Daruk said confidently, earning a small smile from Link. “Asking for help like that, that was a huge step. And you showed both of 'em who was boss, too!”

Link relaxed, and then nodded decisively, pleased. Rito Village, then Hebra. Then I’ll go for some of the shrines I’ve missed, and then Central Hyrule, he signed. And by then it'll probably be fall, won't it?

“You know, I think it will,” Daruk said thoughtfully. “Nearly been three months already. Felt like a whole 'nother lifetime.” He laughed, belly-deep.

Link nodded, looking down at his arms. At some point he'd started to accumulate marks he hadn't even noticed – faint, transparent colors from people he'd just passed by, brushed against, nudged for attention or directed. Some on his torso, a few on his legs, but mostly, they were on his arms, shaded from shoulder to fingertip in a glimmer of color.

“Yeah,” Mipha agreed quietly, though he hadn't said anything. “That looks right, doesn't it? Even as a child, this was how I always knew you.”

Privately, Link had to agree, smiling softly to himself. It felt right.

Eventually, he got up and kept going. Dusk was beginning to fall, but after his nap, Link was hardly tired, and Urbosa had said that the Irch Plains, where Pikango said one of the photos might have been taken, was not too far away.

Mipha seemed to be looking for something herself, and after a while, she gestured to catch Link's attention, kneeling in the grass. Link cocked his head, then went to kneel beside her, curious. She cupped a flower in her hands, a sweet-smelling cone-shaped bloom with wide petals.

“Hylian lavender, Link,” she said quietly. “I know how to make a tincture out of it, if you want.”

Link hesitated, and after a moment, went from kneeling to sitting, which brought everyone a little closer as they prepared to settle. Mipha shook her head at them, and Urbosa gave her a long, lingering look before nodding and leading the others off to give them privacy.

I'm not sure, Link said hesitantly. Guinevere said it was really strong, and the ralis root worked well.

The ralis root made you functional, Mipha corrected gently. Lavender should make you comfortable. It would help you sleep at home, or in towns between legs of travel. You don't have to use just one or the other.

Link still wasn't sure, but he had to admit that the thought was tempting – the idea of taking something that would soothe him until pain was a distant thought. He hadn't liked how spacy and silly the minish seed had made him, but it had been an incredible relief. I don't know. I've never tried it.

He realized how silly the remark was a moment after he said it, but luckily Mipha just gave him a sympathetic smile.

I know. Why don't you harvest some, make a tincture, and you can decide another time if you want to use it? I'm sure Guinevere or Zayla would be happy to have extra if you brought it to them. You're not used to using painkillers regularly anyway, so it's better to ease into it.

Link considered for a while, and then nodded, took one of the slate's seemingly endless supply of empty bottles, and started to carefully pluck the large, tremulous blooms. When he'd filled the jar, he sealed it away, stood up, and moved on without looking back. This didn't feel like a failure, exactly, but he wasn't sure it felt good either.

The sun was low in the sky by the time Link found the pond. It didn't trigger anything immediately, so Link took his boots off and started to wade around in the shallow water. He picked some lotus seeds, mourned the lack of fish, flopped down in it to sit for a while – the heat of summer was beginning to set in – and then, at a flicker of movement, turned and lunged to grab a hot-footed frog.

(Link remembered-)

(Zelda had loved the camera on the slate, and she had taken pictures of everything, enthusiastically telling him about the wildlife and flora. He'd been happy. It was rare to see her so openly excited.)

(She'd been especially happy to find a silent princess, telling him about it in hushed tones. It was her favorite flower. Link hadn't known that before he saw her hold one.)

(She'd caught a frog, too, and gotten so caught up in her excitement that she tried to feed it to him then and there.)

The frog slipped out of Link's limp grip, and he propped himself up on one muddy elbow and laughed, open and carefree.

As soon as he hit the road again, Link ran into Beedle. Beedle pointed at him.

“I'm not traveling with you again!” he declared sternly, and then smiled at Link and, with a wave, invited him along anyway. Link laughed and fell in next to him, then pointed ahead and cocked his head. “Serenne Stable's up that way! And then Snowfield after that, and Snowfield is always in need of supplies – if you have some to share, I'd be more than happy to buy!”

Link nodded agreeably, looking up ahead to examine the road. It looked peaceful; most of the roads were, really. It was in the stretches in between that monsters camped and swarmed.

“There hasn't been a blood moon in a while!” Beedle said cheerfully, and then tapped his head with his knuckles. “Knock on wood! But there should be fewer monsters around than normal. Oh, but you don't want to go off the path up ahead – there's a lynel due northeast of Serenne Stable, and that would be a challenge even for you, my friend.”

Link hummed thoughtfully. It would be a challenge, wouldn't it?

He remembered that there had been at least one lynel in the ravaged mob, so long ago on Death Mountain. He'd taken it down and not thought anything of it. And if he was planning on eventually taking on Calamity Ganon, he would certainly have to be at least strong enough to manage a lynel.

He didn't mention his thought process to Beedle, but he fiddled with the pretty silk gloves, now frayed and worn, that Vilia had given him, and wondered.

There was a bit of a commotion at Serenne Stable when it came into sight, so Link sped up a little, hurrying ahead to see what the fuss was about. But before he was even within earshot, he relaxed, waved to Beedle, and slowed down again. There were three people having an argument, gesticulating wildly, but no one seemed upset and everything seemed friendly. He stopped to collect a few mushrooms on the way, and then went to listen.

“I'm telling you, all of the evidence says it was an ice age-!” one man was protesting loudly. Another rolled his eyes.

“Everyone says everything went extinct in the ice age! Why do we have so many records of them, then? Hm? All of the pre-ice age records were in Hyrule Castle, and no one's been reading anything from there, least of all you.”

“Oh, like volcanic activity is any better,” the first complained, but he reached out to ruffle his friend's hair, looking exasperated and fond.

“I'm telling you-” the third broke in.

“Your drought theory is stupid,” the other two said in unison, and the third crossed his arms and huffed.

“Sorry about them,” the stablemaster said to Link, visibly amused. “They've hit a dead end on their research, and they decided to rest here for a bit while they figure out where to go from here. Apparently most of the records were kept in Hyrule Castle. You're a new face, where you from?”

Before Link could answer – not that he would have had a good one anyway – Beedle caught up and announced, “This is Link! New to the roads, just been around a couple months now, but I swear to you, Sprinn, he's got to be the best swordsman I've ever seen!”

“Better than Oliff?” the stablemaster asked, raising an eyebrow. Link heard Revali make a very uncharitable scoff.

“Head and shoulders,” Beedle confirmed, making Link's cheeks heat up. “I ran into a couple of guardians on a new route, and Link made scrap out of them!”

Sprinn's eyebrows flew up. “You're shitting me.”

“Not even a little,” Beedle said. “I just about pissed my pants, but Link didn't make a peep until the things were in a million pieces. He's something out of this world, I'm telling you!”

Sprinn grunted, looking impressed and even a little excited, and turned his gaze on Link.

“No need to be shy, I don't bite,” he said. “That's a pretty impressive reputation you've built for yourself, and so quickly too. I don't think I'll really believe it 'til I see it, but I've never known Beedle to tell a lie. Where'd you train? With the Gerudo, maybe? Condition Hyrule's in, they might make an exception for a talent.”

Link shrugged and shook his head, and without thinking he signed, But that's a good idea, I should take up Gerudo Captain on her offer. She did suggest a couple times that I stand in.

He winced at Sprinn's blank look, and Beedle intervened, “Oh, he's mute as a fish, he's been speaking in the old sign. Plenty friendly though.”

“Huh,” Sprinn said thoughtfully, and then, “Why don't y'all come in? I don't think those guys are finishing up anytime soon.” He jabbed a thumb at the three arguing academics.

Inside, Sprinn turned down most of Beedle's supplies, professing that, with spring turning to summer, they were well able to live off the land, but he was worried about Snowfield. Link did his business with Beedle, bought out his arrows and some warm darners and sunshrooms, and then sold him twice as much in return – things he'd accumulated faster than he ate them, apples and mushrooms and radishes, bird thighs and eggs and a dozen cuts of butchered meat. Beedle shook his head with wonder.

“What I wouldn't do to have that tech of yours,” he said wistfully.

Link mostly hung around and listened after that. The three leviathan academics apparently weren't very good at compromise, and they seemed to be arguing about which location was least dangerous, Hebra or Death Mountain or the Gerudo Desert. Link whistled to catch their attention, and then prodded Beedle until he paid attention too.

“What d'you want?” one of them asked, with good humor under the grouch.

Not Gerudo Desert, Link signed to Beedle, slow and clear. Leviathan skeleton, very deep, sandstorms, monsters.

Beedle squinted, but it only took him a couple seconds to work out what Link wanted, and a minute more to break down the sign.

“He says not to look for the one in the desert,” Beedle reported at last. “It's in there pretty deep, and, uh- I didn't make that all out, sorry Link, but it's dangerous. Lots of monsters.”

Despite Beedle's words, all three of them perked up. Link cocked his head.

“You've seen it?” asked the man who said they died in a drought, sounding positively gleeful. His two friends looked a little put out. Link nodded, watching them curiously with a plate on his lap, and the man grinned. “And if you've been to such a dangerous place and come back fine, you must be pretty good at handling yourself!” Link nodded again. “Then you can find the ones in Eldin and Hebra too, and maybe draw us a picture or something, can't you?”

He sounded downright ecstatic, and Link smiled indulgently, leaned back, and mulled the possibility over.

...He still had time, and Daruk had an idea of where the Eldin skeleton was already, and he could go straight to the one in the desert. And he couldn't draw, but he had his Sheikah camera. With a small smile, he nodded at them, chuckling as all three cheered like children.

“You'll be well compensated for your efforts!” one of them tacked on eagerly. “Just make sure you get their heads and their surroundings, alright? So we're sure, you understand!” He sounded so gleeful that Link wasn't sure he cared about the science of it at all.

Link chuckled and nodded, and then turned back to his food, eating through it steadily.

“Stretch, Link,” Mipha reminded him, quiet and fond, and he hummed agreement. He'd remember.

He did stretch, slow and careful through motions that were rapidly becoming more familiar to him, and then stayed outside until everyone else in the stable had gone to bed, sitting next to the cooking pot. One by one, he made about five more batches of blue chu salve, and two more of the red chu even though he hadn't used any yet. Then he started to survey his ingredients.

“I should think you have more than enough meals in there by now to last you over a month,” Revali said, dry as bone. Link hummed.

These are just for tomorrow, he signed.

“What's happening tomorrow?” Daruk asked, plopped down to look over Link's shoulder. “I thought you were just going on to Snowfield Stable with your friend.”

Link shook his head. I'm going to take a detour. He tapped the screen thoughtfully, switched to his armor, and considered it. I really need to get to the northern Lomei Labyrinths. I think the rest of the barbarian armor is there. He tapped it.

“That's one hell of a detour,” Daruk said, faintly doubtful. Link shook his head dismissively.

No, I'll handle those when I'm more in the area. I think for tomorrow... soldier and barbarian armor, the diamond circlet, amber earrings. Maybe hearty mushroom omelet for breakfast, honey-glazed staminoka bass for lunch. Some fried bananas as snacks. Hearty clam chowder for dinner. A mighty potion, maybe a hasty one, a couple of hearty potions – I have plenty of moblin livers left, I'll use those. And I still have both the fairies that joined me last time I visited Cotera.

“You're expecting a fight,” Urbosa surmised, interested. “You're looking for a fight.”

Link nodded, tossed some butter into the pot, and started to filet the bass. When he'd laid that into the pot, he signed, I'm going to go fight the lynel Beedle mentioned.

It was a little funny, how quickly his friends all burst into outrage. He waited them out, turned the fish over with his knife, and when they were finally settled again, he explained,

I used to be capable of beating lynels, right? And that was when I was healthy. He scooped the fish onto a plate and tucked it into his slate. Fingers still sticky, he continued, I'm not healthy yet. But I've been getting a lot better. I'm miles past where I was when I woke up, and I'm not sick, and I'm not upset. He flashed them a small, pleased smile. I have the slate if I need to leave quickly. But I'm going to try.

They were all silent for a while, and then Mipha made a low, stressed noise.

“Oh, I hope you know what you're doing,” she murmured.

Chapter Text

“Where did you learn those sigils?” Mipha asked curiously, watching Link carefully paint the symbols onto his stomach, taking care not to let the wrinkled skin create any cracks. “Oh, no, don't stop on my account – tell me when you're done.”

Link gave his stomach a small, distracted smile and finished up before he answered, There was a diagram and a pot of paint with the armor. I think I can get some more in Gerudo Town, but I haven't worn it often enough to need more.

“That's because it looks absurd,” Revali sniped, and Link snorted. It wasn't like Revali was wrong.

When he was done, he climbed to his feet and took careful stock of himself. It was a good pain day so far, no ache or strain beyond the norm. He was nervous but not scared. The barbarian armor was actually easier on his torso than the soldier's armor was, even if it looked a little silly. And he'd eaten well enough that he felt a little stronger than normal.

He nodded firmly, took a deep breath, and started walking. His friends' nervousness was palpable; Link tried not to let it get to him, keeping his mind on the task ahead, his best bow on his back and a royal claymore he'd picked up on his back. He skirted around a couple of silver bokoblin – no time for that now – and focused on ahead.

He'd only gotten glimpses of the white lynel on the Great Plateau. He'd seen a bit more of the red on Ploymus, but been so preoccupied with sneaking around that he'd mostly missed it. Somehow, it still surprised him when he caught sight of the sheer stature of the white-mane ahead.

“Are you sure you wouldn't rather tackle a weaker one first?” Mipha asked anxiously.

Link shook his head, set into firm determination, and swallowed down a mighty and a hasty elixir. He wasn't going to run away.

It didn't take long for the lynel to spot Link; he wasn't exactly hiding. It bared its teeth and bellowed at him, and when it charged, Link dove out of the way, rolled, and, as if in slow motion, nocked an arrow, aimed at its face, and fired. The lynel screamed, half-crumpling to the ground as it clutched at its head in obvious pain.

Link used the opening to make room between them, focusing intently on the beast. His friends were deadly quiet, letting him pour all of his concentration into the fight.

Link had missed the eye; what had he hit that had caused the lynel such pain?

One of its hands was hooked around the base of its right horn, clutching at it, and then it dragged it away, roared at him, and drew its enormous steel bow. Link ducked down behind his shield, and so missed it changing tactics until he felt the pounding of its hooves on the ground. He barely had time to brace himself before it slammed its spear forward, and still only managed to keep his shield from slipping and letting the spear impale him. He was bowled over, rolled again, and shoved himself to his feet.

He bared his teeth at the lynel in return. Link had stumbled out of his grave and clawed his way to where he was now. Every weapon he had, he'd scavenged and won. He'd learned to rip apart the mechanical creatures of his nightmares. No mere monster was going to best him.

It took the better part of the day. The lynel's hide took brute force to break through, and though blood streamed down its sides, it seemed like forever before it was even beginning to struggle. The sun was high by the time Link figured out that hitting the base of its horn would send it reeling long enough for Link to mount it, giving him room and leverage to carve viciously into its shoulders and neck until it managed to throw him off again. Blood was plastered all down his front and smeared on his greaves. His torso screamed with a throbbing burn that took unrelenting focus to power through.

The lynel wasn't going down easy, for sure. Even with his friends' help, Urbosa's lightning and Daruk's shield and a few last-minute rescues from Revali, Link took a couple of bad hits. Once the lynel threw him off hard enough that his head cracked against the ground, and one of the fairies fluttered out to help before he could pass out. And partway through, he had to hide long enough to swallow down a hearty elixir, closing several deep gashes and sweeping away the dizziness of blood loss.

But eventually, when the day was slipping into evening, and the lynel was stumbling and swaying with exhaustion and injuries, roaring in pain, Link swung his heavy body onto its back. It collapsed to the ground, and Link pitched forward, grabbed the far end of the claymore until it cut into his fingers, and heaved backward.

The claymore slid across the lynel's throat, and it burbled before it finally tipped over and stopped moving.

Soaked in blood from head to toe, Link rolled off of the enormous corpse and landed on his back, panting with pain and exhaustion. But when his friends came to check on him, all looking varying degrees of concerned, Link let his eyes close, his head tip to one side, and grinned. He'd beaten a fucking lynel, and he felt on top of the world.

“You did it,” Mipha murmured, with amazement and the start of genuine joy creeping into her voice. “Link, you did it!”

Punch drunk and dizzy, Link rolled onto his stomach, moaned in pain, and then huffed a sound of pleasure and nodded. He felt like he could pass out right then and there, but instead he took out the dinner he'd prepared the day before, and he started eating. When Daruk started narrating a play-by-play of the fight, loud and delighted, Link's cheeks heated up, and even though he was on the verge of passing out, he couldn't stop smiling.

The adrenaline didn't start to drain away until it was dark, and the general good mood took even longer to settle, all of them feeling a little hyped and chatty. Link drifted in and out of sleep for a bit, caught between the two, and dreamed of pain.

The dreams had him shivering and a little bit chilled, and at some point during the night, he stayed awake for long enough, rearranging his inventory, that Mipha came to check on him, soft-voiced and worried. “Link?” Is something wrong? Is it the pain?

Link hummed. No, but he really did need to make a trip to Zora River for ralis root. His body throbbed like tearing, and he'd forgotten to apply the salve in his exhaustion, and he felt too unsettled to do it now.

I could have died today, he signed, more pensive than fearful.

You didn't, Mipha said back. Link grunted, and rolled a ball of fire chu jelly between his hands, then pressed it to his shoulder before he replied.

Do lynels kill people quickly?

Mipha was silent long enough that Link glanced up, and found her expression concerned. She joined him prone on the ground, sign a little awkward with her elbows seeming to support her.

Usually, yes, Mipha said at last. Their raw strength is unbelievable. Plenty of their victims are dead before they hear more than their roar. But your body is sturdy, magically reinforced, and you have battle experience. I don't think you would.

Link's shoulders dropped a little. Can you keep a secret?

Of course.

I'd rather die fast, Link said bluntly. Mipha made a small sound, and Link gave her an apologetic, faintly ashamed look, but he didn't want to keep this locked up. If he didn't say something, he thought he'd go mad. I'm still having nightmares about being taken to the shrine. I. It hurt. I've... He hesitated. I've started having other nightmares too. About dying in pain like that. He swallowed, glancing away quickly, color coming to his cheeks. I... I don't think I want to die like that ever again.

Mipha swallowed twice, and Link saw her eyes glimmer. He wished he could hug her.

I understand, Mipha signed back, very small, and glanced away. I think, for my part... I think my greatest regret was that I died alone. But it was very quick.

None of the champions had ever spoken about their deaths before. Link reached out, placed his hand in Mipha's, and then stayed still.

Eventually, he fell asleep again, and he didn't wake until morning.

Butchering a lynel was a pain in the ass.

Link hadn't washed off after the battle the day before, so there was dried and crusted blood all over him, and cutting into the lynel just added more. He couldn't even use his hunting knife; he'd had to resort to taking a guardian sword and dragging it through the monster's skin and bone. Mipha talked him through it, showing him where to cut and what to take, and Link followed along intently, frowning.

He was still in the process of digging out the lynel's heart when someone came running. Uncomfortable and irritated, pain and icky discomfort and lingering weariness clogging up his head, Link made a grouchy sound and sat back on his heels, looking over at whoever was approaching.

“Oh!” Mipha exclaimed, sounding more surprised than alarmed.

“Oh Goddess above, you're covered in blood,” the figure yelped, and within a couple of seconds, Link recognized them as Oliff. Link cocked his head wearily, and Oliff skidded to a halt, stumbled, and collapsed next to Link and started patting him down, sudden and random touches that made Link feel like crawling out of his skin. “Where are you hurt? Oh, dear Goddess, this is so much blood-”

“Oh, no,” Mipha giggled ruefully, covering her mouth with one hand. Silently exasperated, Link had to agree.

Link caught him by the wrists, glared, and then let go. Oliff, thank the goddess, stopped patting him like a puppy. Link took a breath, let it out, and then tipped his head toward the lynel. Oliff swallowed and nodded.

“I'd hate to meet whatever could do this to a lynel,” he said hoarsely. “Think it was one of those guardian bastards? I didn't think there were any here, but...” Link gestured irritably, leveraged his sword, and cracked a couple more of its ribs, which he ripped out and tossed aside. “Wh- You aren't saying you did this, did you?”

Link almost rolled his eyes. What was the alternative?

He knew he was being uncharitable. Oliff had trouble with bokoblin, let alone a lynel, and there weren't really many more Hylian swordsmen. Even his friends, who knew he had once been capable of it, had been unsure. Of course Oliff was doubtful.

Oliff's eyes landed on Link's hand. Link paused, and then looked down.

He wore gloves so often he'd entirely stopped tracking how brightly the mark on his hand was glowing. Now, after all the shrines he'd completed, it stood out starkly against the skin of his hand, and Link thought it would probably glow in the dark. Oliff swallowed thickly, and for a long moment, Link didn't look up. When the silence stretched on, he leaned forward, messily cut out part of one lung to toss aside, and finally managed to retrieve the heart, which pulsed faintly in his hands, humming with magic.

“Oh,” Oliff said softly, and then, “I ran into Nell a couple days ago. He said he'd met you.”

Link relaxed a little and nodded, then pushed himself to his feet and turned to look at Oliff. Oliff hissed, and Link frowned. It took him a moment to work out what Oliff was reacting to, and then he pressed a hand to his scarred stomach. Of course. He looked at Mipha.

“You don't need to tell him anything,” Mipha reassured him. “Go wash the blood off, Link. You'll hate yourself all day if you don't.”

Holding down a chuckle, Link shook his head at Oliff, and then mimed washing his hands, indicated his whole body, and turned to walk away. Oliff hesitated, and then jogged to catch up with him. He didn't say anything else, just quietly kept pace with Link, and Link decided he didn't mind the company, another flesh-and-blood Hylian amid his ghostly friends. Before long they were at the lake that bordered the Great Hyrule Forest, and Oliff silently moved to keep watch while Link dipped into it, fully clothed. Even with the rest of his friends doing the same, looking out over all directions, Link found he appreciated it.

It took a while for Link to get clean. With that first dunk, he tried to get most of the encrusted blood and... assorted organ goop off of himself, scrubbing with his hands. Then he pulled himself out, stripped off his clothes, and dipped back in to get the rest of the blood and charmed paint off of himself. He pulled himself out again, changed into clean clothes, and leaned down to start scrubbing at the filthy clothing with rocks, and still Oliff stuck around.

Finally, feeling much more amiable, Link put the washed clothes away and climbed to his feet, took his slate, and went to move on, inviting Oliff to accompany him back to the road with a wave of his hand.

“Where are you going?” Link asked at last.

“Just my usual rounds,” Oliff said, more rueful than proud. “I'm trying to make sure nothing's settled between here and Snowfield Stable – but I think Beedle's ahead of me, which is unfortunate. I'm not sure I'll be able to clear the Tabantha Village ruins before he reaches them, and it's been... a few blood moons since I last checked on it.”

Link hummed sympathetically. “I can help,” he assured Oliff. He doubted they'd be able to outpace Beedle, who was very purposeful in his rounds, but at least Oliff wouldn't be clearing the road alone.

Oliff laughed uncomfortably, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I'd've thought clearing roads was a little below your paygrade.”

Link tilted his head, and then shook it decisively. “They need to move. Hunt.” He frowned contemplatively down for a moment, thumbing through the communication rune to search for the right words to convey his meaning. “Be safe.”

“Yeah, they do,” Oliff said softly, and Link relaxed a little when it seemed like he understood. Oliff shook himself off after a moment and asked, “Are you... suggesting we travel together for a while? I'd be honored.”

Link gave him a small smile, and the two of them reached the road together and turned right to climb the hill.

“Why are you there?” Link asked, indicating where they'd just come from.

“Ah... I couldn't see much from over here,” Oliff said, embarrassed. “I just saw that there was someone on the lynel's territory, and I got worried.”

Link nodded thoughtfully, warmed by Oliff's concern, and swept his gaze thoughtfully across the ground. There were a few mushrooms at the foot of most of the trees, and he broke off to kneel down and harvest them. Visibly confused, Oliff slowly knelt down nearby and started to do the same. Link hummed curiously.

“Oh, dear,” Mipha said, poorly hiding a laugh behind one hand. Link cocked his head. “Link, I think he might just be copying you.”

Link glanced at Oliff and had to bite down a chuckle. Oliff was frowning contemplatively down at the mushrooms, as if he didn't actually want them. It was possible Mipha was right.

The two of them wove up the path like that, making their slow way along. Link in particular bobbed back and forth, scaring off a wolf here and grabbing a mushroom there, turning to look back at Hyrule Castle or kneeling to peer over a cliff to a strange flat structure that was setting off his Sheikah sensor. It was sweet and peaceful, like much of the time spent traveling, and Link found himself relaxing. His friends were even laughing and chatting, lighthearted. They stopped to stretch a few times, and Link had to bite down a laugh when he realized that Oliff really was imitating him, following along with intent focus.

“Do you use all this stuff?” Oliff asked after a while, when Link was returning from a climb down to reach some luminous ore. Link nodded. “Huh.”

When it started to get cold, both of them ducked off just out of sight to change. Link came back in his doublet and ruby circlet. Oliff had an interesting set of cozy-looking clothes that Link examined curiously. To his surprise, Oliff smiled a little.

“It's snowquill armor,” he explained. “The Rito make it from old down. They're the warmest clothes you'll ever wear.” Link hummed in interest. “Are you on your way to Rito Village? You can get some there.”

Link nodded, pleased, and looked back ahead as he heard the howl of a wolf. An arrow by its paws sent it scurrying away.

It had been dark for a while by the time they reached Snowfield Stable, but between the two of them, the stalfos were easy to keep off and there weren't any other monsters on the road. Link did see a shrine behind the stable, and he nodded to Oliff before heading toward it intently.

The puzzle inside wasn't hard to solve, but it did take several tries to actually complete, and Link was a little worn from running back and forth by the time he emerged. Daruk was on him almost as soon as he was out, and Link tilted his head curiously at Daruk's odd expression.

“You're being talked about,” Daruk said after a moment, jerking his thumb toward the fire, where a few people were gathered and chatting.

Link hummed curiously, but when none of his friends moved to elaborate, he headed toward the gathering, listening on the way.

“You're being childish,” a woman said crossly to the man beside her. “A sword doesn't make a hero, and it's definitely not going to make one out of you.”

“Hey, that's uncalled for,” the man protested, hurt. “I just think it sounds cool, okay? Can you imagine having a sword that just- wham!” He made a meaningless broad gesture. The woman rolled her eyes.

“Such a child,” she muttered. “I'd be happy just to have a sword that cuts, on these roads.”

“Well...” the man trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Oliff was with them too, frowning deeply and clearly conflicted as to whether to step in, and Link had to hide another smile.

“A sword doesn't make a hero, but it belongs to him,” Oliff said after a while, quietly, and the woman grunted in disgust.

“Not you too, Oliff,” she complained, though not without a touch of affection in her voice. “I didn't think you were into those old legends.”

Oliff hummed noncommittally, and then fell abruptly silent when Link moved in to sit nearby. There was a cooking pot set over the fire, and Link crossed his legs, set his wooden forest dweller's shield flat on his lap, and considered the group for a moment. It wasn't very late, just dark, but they still might have eaten already.

“I'm cooking. Do you want some?” he asked at last, and smiled when all three of them perked up.

Chapter Text

“There were no other children in the stable when I grew up,” the old man explained, brushing down what he could reach of his horse's coat, “so my only friends were horses. My parents scolded me quite harshly for being so careless with them- horses are not so surefooted as Hylians, you understand, though much better at outrunning monsters.”

Link hummed his understanding, setting the hoof pick aside and patting the horse to let her drop her hoof again.

“Thank you, son,” Monkton added, smiling at him wearily. “I'm afraid that rock has been stuck in her hoof for weeks. My knees aren't at all up to such a task, and she wouldn't let anyone else near her. You have quite a way with horses.”

Link clicked his tongue a couple of times, contented, and thought of a sweet bay mare for but a moment before the memory slipped through his fingers. Instead, he got to his feet and gave the old man a nod, and then headed back to the fire where Oliff was idling quietly, still a little dozy after the late night.

“If I didn't know better, I'd say you're fond of this one's awe for you,” Urbosa teased, eyes glimmering with amusement, and Link flashed her a smile without replying. It wasn't untrue that Oliff's open admiration left him warm.

He got Oliff's attention and gestured down the road, and Oliff got up without hesitation to come with him.

The road in Hebra was quiet, and Link liked it. Soft snow covered everything, wolves were easily startled away, and every so often there were copses of trees. Sometimes the trees had lizalfos hiding around them, but those were easily dispatched too, and the copses usually had berry bushes. He shared the bounty with Oliff and put some of them away. He thought that wildberries, sweet and half-frozen, might be one of his favorite foods, and Oliff was smiling in a way that said he didn't indulge in them often.

Revali looked the most homesick he had in all the time Link remembered. Link would make sure not to take any detours on the way to Rito Village.

Link nudged Oliff when they reached the base of the hill where the tower rested, and then made a hard left, hauling himself up the steep rocks with a grunt. Oliff hesitated, and then followed just behind.

“...Mr. Hero?” Oliff ventured. Link made a face at him, and Oliff relaxed a little, looking more bashful than anything. “Link. Where are we going?”

Link pointed. The tower shone orange above them; there would only be three left after this, and one of those was the tower in Akkala.

“Are we... do you want to look ahead?” Oliff asked, uncertain.

Link gave him an indulgent look, and then turned and kept climbing. When he got up, Revali was already there, shaking his head in disgust.

“Ice,” he said to Link. “You'll be here until the height of summer if you wait for it to melt. I don't suppose you have a flameblade or some such with you?” Link frowned. “No, I didn't think so. You'll have to build a fire.”

Link stuck his tongue out at Revali, and Urbosa elbowed him gently. “You know he hates being given the answer.”

“I want to go home, thank you,” Revali said tersely, which shut Urbosa up.

Link softened, knelt down, and built a fire. Revali started pacing, restless and frustrated, and then disappeared out of sight. Mipha gave Link a nod, and then went after him, which reassured Link that Revali would be in kind company. He probably needed it.

Oliff sat with him, looking a little confused again, and Link started moving through his stretches, slow and careful. Oliff stretched in time with him, watching carefully, which meant, of course, that he noticed every time a shiver made Link wince, or when he slowed down, or stopped to reach up and rub his shoulder, cringing.

“I... usually travel faster than this,” Oliff said haltingly, an implied question in his voice. Link hummed noncommittally, twisting in place, and Oliff pushed, “Are you always so... distractible?”

There was no point in lying; Oliff had already seen him go off the road to chase a winterwing butterfly more than once. Link nodded.

“Why?” Oliff asked.

Link frowned. He wasn’t sure exactly how to explain. It was just what came naturally to him; the world was full of things to do and people to speak to and things to collect. He didn’t want to miss any of them just because he was impatient.

He finished his stretches without answering and then beckoned for Oliff to move closer. Oliff did, and Link showed him his Sheikah slate and started to flip through the adventure notes. He showed Oliff the note about the academics who wanted pictures of leviathans, and a few shrines he’d heard rumors of but hadn’t gone after yet, and even the notes about helping Koko cook and clearing the beach by Lurelin.

Oliff didn’t look like he understood, exactly, but he did look more thoughtful. “You like to think about the little things.” Link nodded, pleased. “I… wasn’t expecting that.”

Link shrugged, thought for a minute, and then tapped out carefully, “A forest is made of trees.”

Oliff fell thoughtfully silent, and Link relaxed a little, watching the ice melt.

“Don’t stretch with me,” Link said after a while, and smiled sympathetically when Oliff jumped, looking guilty. “I do stretches for my injuries. They won’t help you.”

Oliff’s eyes flashed down to Link’s torso, and Link held steady. Oliff didn’t comment.

When the ice melted, Link gestured for Oliff to stay and climbed up the side of Hebra Tower. Aside from the ice, it was refreshingly straightforward, and he made to the top without incident, set his Sheikah slate into place, and watched the tower light up blue.

He dropped back down afterward and showed Oliff his reward – a map of the Hebra region. Oliff’s face lit up with wonder.

A few miles down the road from Hebra Tower, there was a wreck of a village that Oliff called Tabantha. Revali disappeared inside without comment, looking around, slow and visibly furious.

Oliff was pale. “They’re all silver,” he whispered, like Link hadn’t noticed. Link just gave him a sympathetic look, tossed him a mighty elixir, and took his own before he went inside as well.

Nearly every monster was a silver monster, but none of them had weapons; they had mops, soup ladles, torches, and the jewels of the dead, and it made rage burn in Link’s belly. He ignored Oliff through the fight and broke three weapons on the tough hides of the silver monsters, two spears and a two handed sword.

He turned on his heel at the first touch and Oliff recoiled from him, looking startled. Link frowned at him and cocked his head.

“…I don’t know if there’s an upper limit to what you can do,” Oliff said, very quietly. “But there’s a gold monster on the other side of the village.”

A deep frown slashed across Link’s face. He’d never seen a gold monster before.

He rifled through his slate for a few moments, took a tough elixir, and tossed Oliff a hasty one with a stern look. Then he grabbed his bow and headed to the far end of the road.

He meant to surprise it, but it noticed him too quickly; almost before he found it, the beast was turning toward him, shrieking its threat. It had a woodsman’s axe clutched tight in one hand.

Link was ready for it, though, and in quick succession, he fired an electric arrow, then an ice into it, and while it was still reeling, fighting the thin layer of ice that had closed over its shoulder, he dove forward, grabbed its weapon, and slammed it into his slate, out of the bokoblin’s reach. With a gold monster, he wasn’t willing to risk even a frail axe of a weapon in its hands.

It was still a hard fight. Nothing seemed to slice very deep into its hide, and the first hit it got in cracked a couple of Link’s ribs; the second cracked his arm. He hated to think what they would have done without the elixir.

But Link had a savage lynel sword, and a bow to match, and bomb arrows. Eventually, he got it on the ground and ran it through, and it died bleeding.

It had a ruby necklace around its neck, and Link ripped it off and put it away. Then he sat down hard. Snow crunched, and when Link looked up, it was Oliff, holding out a red potion, looking unsure.

Link softened, gave Oliff a weary smile, and accepted the elixir, drinking it in gulps. He felt his breath even out again, ribs healing in a surge of heat, and then his arm too. He relaxed and gave Oliff the bottle back.

“…Can you teach me to do that?” Oliff asked, quietly. Link abruptly remembered that Oliff and Nell had been all Hyrule had to clear its roads for years now.

Link tilted his head, and then shrugged and made an unsure motion with one hand.

He’d never taught anyone before. He could try, though.

Link was surprised to see Kass when they reached Rito Stable. For once, Kass seemed equally surprised to see him.

“Link!” he exclaimed, turning toward him and Oliff. “You’ve caught me in a pensive moment – this is my hometown, and I found myself struck with a bout of homesickness. Are you traveling with Oliff now?”

For a few days, Link replied, a little surprised to find himself giving Kass a warm smile. I haven’t seen you in a while. Did I miss you by mistake?

“I’m afraid so,” Kass chuckled. He didn’t seem bothered. “That is perhaps my own fault for not telling you where to look. If that would not cause undue stress…?”

Link hesitated, and then sighed and nodded, giving Kass a weary smile. I was going to head into the village. Will you be coming? We could try and arrange something there.

“I had not planned to, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt,” Kass said cheerfully.

Link looked at Oliff, who seemed a little lost and uncomfortable. Link winced.

“Ah, we are heading into the village to arrange a later meeting,” Kass explained to Oliff. “I did not realize you did not know sign.”

Oliff shrugged, embarrassed. “I’m from a stable, not a soldier family. Everything I learned, I learned keeping monsters well away from the cattle. Tabantha Stable,” he added, before either of them could ask. “It’s not as bad as Snowfield or Highland, but you have to be careful.”

“Link,” Revali said tersely, the first any of Link’s friends had spoken in a while. Link winced, apologetic, and tilted his head up the road, and without question, the other two started heading to Rito Village.

They ended up on one of half a dozen platforms, sitting together at a table. Kass listed off all of the remaining song locations he could think of, and they settled on an order in which Link would visit them. Kass admitted that he could not stay constantly at those places, but he promised to return there as often as he could until he and Link met there.

Link had almost forgotten about Oliff by the time the man called out, startling him.

“Teba!” Oliff said warmly. “There’s someone I want you to meet!”

Link tilted his head, and followed Oliff’s gaze to a serious-looking white-feathered Rito, who was already turning off the stairwell to hop toward them, arriving with only a few decisive beats of his wings.

“You look like a warrior,” was his greeting to Link, and then, to Oliff, “What is it? I was just going to train at the Flight Range.”

“You should take Link,” Oliff said immediately, startling Link, who cocked his head. “You use a bow too, don’t you?” Teba cocked an eyebrow, and Oliff smiled with some embarrassment. “Right. Teba, this is Link, he took down a lynel just a couple days ago and acted like it was nothing.”

“Is that so?” Teba asked Link with undisguised interest. Link shrugged, embarrassed, and then reached for his slate, fidgeted, and produced a hoof to show Teba. “Impressive. It’ll be good to see you on the roads. Is the bow your primary weapon?” Link shook his head. “Are you good?” Link nodded. “Then I’ll see you at the Flight Range.”

Teba took off, and Link looked at Oliff, who seemed pleased.

“Teba’s the best Rito warrior around,” Oliff explained to him. “Don’t mind him if he’s a little abrupt – he’s a descendent of Revali, and by all accounts that guy was way worse.” Revali squawked. Link hid a smile. That had been easy. “Are you going to meet him? You’re going to, right?”

He sounded a little anxious. Link gave him an indulgent smile and a nod.

He didn’t go straight to the Flight Range, though Revali did. Kass led him to the Brazen Beak, where he was measured yet again, this time for snowquill armor – it was the most expensive of the Rito down clothing, but also the only set meant to hold up in battle. He sauteed some peppers, since the snowquill armor wouldn’t be ready in time to meet Teba, and invited Oliff along with a tilt of his head.

Oliff wanted to turn south and go the long way around to the flight range. Link rejected this idea wholesale, turned north, and started climbing. After a little bit of spluttering, which Link ignored, Oliff followed along.

“You didn’t take as long as I expected,” was Teba’s greeting when he heard them coming. He was sitting inside the landing, restringing his bow, from the looks of it, but he turned his attention on them as he approached. Revali was watching from one of the corners, expression unreadable but distinctly pensive. “How do you want to do this?”

Link looked out over the course, which was in a vertical wind tunnel, with nowhere to put your feet except perhaps if Teba took him to stand on the central pillar. He considered it for a moment, and then took his paraglider off his back and showed it to Teba.

Teba almost smiled. “Alright. Show me what you can do.”

Link smiled at him, met Revali’s eyes, and then turned to hop off the end of the landing. He caught himself with his paraglider, and looked up just in time to see Teba lean back again, apparently satisfied that Link wasn’t going to immediately crash.